The inspiration for my courier connected story came from many of the tales that the various delivery men that visit my home have told me over the last fifteen years. I swear their list of kinky ponderings is non-stop!
Since writing Not Her Type I have got to thinking about all the other professions where there is an opportunity for a spot of sexy ‘hit and run.’
How many of you out there have coveted the man who’s come to service the washing machine? Fancied the plumber- standing just that little bit too close to his bent over backside while he attacks your blocked u-bend?
What would be the ultimate challenge in doorstep seduction? The window cleaner?- Bit too cliché perhaps? The guy or gal who turns up at your front door trying to flog you double glazing or convert you to a ‘definitely cheaper- honest’ electricity supplier? The Avon Lady? The fit young student earning pin money trying to get you to sign up to a monthly charity donation scheme?
Surely the ultimate challenge to end all impromptu seduction challenges would be the Jehovah’s Witness?- A step too far perhaps?? Fair enough.
Each and every one of these scenario’s can form the potential kick off for a juicy new short story. Even as I type this blog, my erotica cogs are a turning…so much material…so little time…
It is from such ponderings as these that Not Her Type was born, after hearing more erotic (and downright pornographic and frequently physically impossible), fantasies and confessions from the delivery men who have visited my home over the years with various work related packages every week. (Not including my current one I should add!)
Such is the nature of the courier’s tight schedule, that any lust he or she has the opportunity to release during the course of his or her day, will be very quickly delivered indeed.
Jenny, the customer who becomes the centre of every sexual fantasy her courier, John has, in Not Her Type, discovers very early on that no matter how much she looks forward to her lusty encounters with her fuck-me handsome lover- it’s rarely going to last more than five minutes!
…Jenny had been ready for an hour. Dressed as per his request. Black jeans, black low-cut shirt, black bra, black knickers.
A rare text from John late the night before had warned her that even compared to normal, they wouldn’t have long. But then, we never had long.
He was already speaking as he came into the house, his tone hectoring, “No time to explain. I have a stupidly large new van and company. A new assistant to train. He’s practicing parking. We’ve got two minutes until he manages to get the truck into a space. Then he’ll be knocking on the door.”
Jenny’s mouth opened to argue, to say that two minutes was impossible, but she didn’t have the chance to say anything as she was driven to her knees with the order, “Suck my cock.”
In the back of Jenny’s mind, the countdown began….
So, if you are a connoisseur of the daytime quickie- then perhaps delivery men, Avon ladies, or window cleaners are the folks for you!!
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Happy reading everyone!!
Kay xxx
Nessa
You have me intrigued. Can’t wait for work to be over so I can start reading!!!
Kay Jaybee
Bless you Nessa – I have to confess- of all the books I have written, this one is my personal favourite! xx