I have a confession. I am dreadful at waiting for things. Most of all, I hate waiting in for couriers, postmen, workmen etc. I loathe how my life has to be fitted into their time frame-. The words, ‘We will call between 9am and 6pm’, drive me nuts! As if I don’t have a life to be getting on with!!

This is why I am so grateful to the courier boys who regularly bring work related deliveries to my home- for in return for the occasional top up of their tea flasks, and the use of the bathroom, they always call me and tell me when they are heading to my home, so that I can get out and about and on with my life. Plus, they pass on as many story ideas as their naughty little minds can think of! They are my muses, and they never let me down! Without them, there would be no Not Her Type at all!

Young couple, isolated on grey background

Blurb-

When Jenny’s regular film courier, John, reveals how she has become the centre of his sexual dream world, Jenny’s quiet existence is thrown into an arena of desire that she thought she’d long since abandoned. 

One unexpected, head swimming romp later, and Jenny is left wondering if her courier will ever visit her again, and if he does, will he mention the hot sex they had on her living room floor that Tuesday afternoon, or will he pretend that it hadn’t happened?

When the following Tuesday arrives and John reappears on Jenny’s doorstep, the scene is set for a continuation of intensely kinky weekly meetings. There is only one problem. John really really isn’t Jenny’s type…

The kindness of my own little troop of delivery men however, doesn’t mean I am not still at the mercy of the couriers I don’t know (believe it or not, I don’t them all!!). Having to wait, trapped inside my home, not being able to concentrate on anything I am doing properly in case I have to stop and sort out whatever is being delivered, a feeling of cabin fever usually grips me within an hour. The frustration of my own inability to settle to a job drives me nuts.

I drew upon this feeling of frustration- the annoyance of constant waiting- when I came to describe Jenny’s feels as she sits at home trying, and often failing to work, hoping that one o’clock on Tuesday afternoon will come around quicker, so that her lover, John will arrive. This frustration flows into the rest of her week, as she continually hopes he’ll turn up unexpectedly on a different day.

It is a while before Jenny realises that John is just as frustrated with the weekly gaps between their meetings as she is, and that he looks forward to seeing her as much as she does him…

Sexy - hands on back

At the sound of a van being parked in the driveway, Jenny flung open the front door, her heart thumping against her ribcage, her palms dotting with perspiration. Striding quickly from his vehicle toward his customer, John stepped into the narrow hallway; the expression on his face spoke volumes, reassuring Jenny that this, whatever it was, wasn’t over yet.

Before either of them had spoken a word they were rolling on the living room floor, speed being of the essence. Mouths glued together, their hands, legs, and tongues were a tangled mess, everywhere at once. Jenny’s psyche swam with a heady mixture of sensations, fuelled by the never ending surprise at how much lust she felt toward her visitor, and how much desire he seemed to feel toward her in return.

Taking her shirt from Jenny’s shoulders, freeing her luscious breasts from their delicate cream bra, he sighed, and suddenly Jenny realized that he had been looking forward to this as much as she had. Up until now, she had convinced herself that he didn’t think about her over the course of the week. It was like a mantra of self preservation in her head that she repeated over and over: I must remember I’m just convenient to him. We simply use each other for sex.

Roughly pulling at each other’s clothes, they were soon totally naked. Stepping away, Jenny gazed hungrily at him. He is just so yummy, so sexy, so… This was the first time she’d seen him completely nude. Previously, in their haste, trousers and boxers had remained around ankles, shoes and socks had been simply ignored. It was a minute frozen in time, as she examined him and he examined her; their appreciation was obviously mutual.

Drawing on a condom, John lowered Jenny back against the carpet, lying above her so his hard dick nudged at her skin, tantalizingly close to her clit, sending mini shocks of expectant electricity through her body…

***

When I wait in for parcels that I’m expecting, for the boiler to be serviced, for the plumber to arrive etc, I try so hard to relax- but I am hopeless. I like to be out of the house. I write best in my local café, and if I can’t get there I am a nightmare of unproductiveness! Thank goodness for my well trained couriers!!!

If you want to read more from my courier kink, then you can buy it from all good book and e-retailers including-

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-Delivery/dp/1484881184

http://www.amazon.com/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-Delivery/dp/1484881184

***

Happy reading,

Kay xx