Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures with a Delivery Man

By Kay Jaybee

When Jenny's regular delivery man, John, reveals that 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 it didn't happen?

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's only one problem: John really isn't Jenny's type. For one thing, he's a man...

• Language: English
• Publisher: 1001 Nights Press
• Release date: Jan 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310137402

Kay Jaybee

Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETOKay received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.Kay Jaybee has over 200 erotica publications including, The Fifth Floor - Book 1 of The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (KJ Press, 2017) , The Collector (KDP, 2016), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2013), Digging Deep, (Xcite 2013), Take Control, (1001 NightsPress, 2014), and Not Her Type (1001 NightsPress, 2013).The Retreat (Book 2 of The Perfect Submissive Trilogy), Knowing Her Place (Book 3 of The Perfect Submissive Trilogy), and The New Room (a novella length addition to the Fables Hotel story) will be re-released in 2018.Details of all Kay’s short stories and other publications can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.ukYou can follow Kay on -Twitter- https://twitter.com/kay_jaybeeFacebook -http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthorGoodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybeeBrit Babes- http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk/p/kay-jaybee.htmlKay also writes contemporary romance and children’s picture books as Jenny Kane www.jennykane.co.uk and historical fiction as Jennifer Ash www.jenniferash.co.uk

Book preview

NOT HER TYPE

Erotic Adventures with a Delivery Man

Kay Jaybee

Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures with a Delivery Man

Copyright © 2011 by Kay Jaybee

First published by OC Press, a division of JordanSade LLC

Second Electronic Printing, April 2013, by 1001 Nights Press

Cover design by Hilary Stojak and CoverDomme

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Adult Content Warning

This story contains sexually explicit acts involving consenting adults. It is not intended for minors under the age of eighteen.

Table of Contents

Tuesday: It Begins

Tuesday: Again…

Tuesday: Fantasy

Tuesday: Frustration

Tuesday: Late

Friday: The Van

Still Friday: Confessing

Tuesday: The Plan

Tuesday: Ripped Off

Tuesday: Sharing

Wednesday: Silence

Tuesday: 120 Seconds

Tuesday: Solo

Tuesday: Cold Calling

Tuesday: Returning

Tuesday: Christmas Eve - Concluding

About the Author

Tuesday

It Begins

What the hell am I doing? I’m a good girl; I just don’t do things like this.

A tiny fraction of Jenny’s conscience screamed at her. The remainder of her brain sent her hands on a thorough exploration of the densely haired chest that had unexpectedly appeared from beneath her companion’s polo shirt. The fact that Jenny had never liked men with hairy chests seemed irrelevant.

Standing in front of her, diving a hand under Jenny’s top, John squeezed her left nipple hard, wonderfully hard, making her squeal with pain-tingling gratification. Removing her shirt at top speed, John freed her breasts from their confinement.

Moving as if on auto-pilot, Jenny’s fingers visited the waistband of his trousers, but in her haste she couldn’t get his belt undone. Rescuing her from her embarrassment with a smile, John mumbled something about it always being difficult to open and undid it himself. Jenny barely heard him as a neat pair of charcoal grey boxers appeared, swiftly followed by—Oh My God—the most beautiful dick she had seen in years – perhaps ever.

As she knelt before him, the voice in Jenny’s head continued its rant, reminding her that she hated giving blowjobs. Since her first experience as a college student, she had liked neither the taste of cock nor the sensation of being gagged. Now, however, working on instincts she’d never known she had, Jenny took John deep into her throat. She felt his fingers drag urgently through her knotty brown hair, raking her scalp as she greedily worked him around her mouth.

‘Hell, girl, have you any idea how often I’ve dreamt of you doing this?’ John confessed. ‘Night after night I wank about you, about you holding me in your throat like this.’

Jenny was consumed with a perverse pride as she listened to John’s words, wondering if she should admit to the stolen moments she’d spent alone with a silver vibrator and her own filthy fantasies – fantasies contrary to her normal imaginings, fantasies that often featured him.

His penis felt fantastic in her mouth, but the restless ache in Jenny’s pussy was becoming unbearable, and she pulled away, panting. The instant she let go of his shaft, John tugged her back to her feet and grasped her butt, kneading it in a way that would give her bruises for days to come, while kissing her as if his life depended on it.

Conveniently forgetting that she didn’t like the feel of stubble against her skin, Jenny relished the burn of his unshaven face grazing her, scraping her cheeks as their lips and teeth clashed together.

Her head buzzed, her nipples were tickled by his chest hairs, and Jenny began to feel as if she were overdosing on desire. She badly wanted to slow everything down, but at the same time, she needed to go faster. She wasn’t far from climax, and the mere idea of their illicit situation was enough to send Jenny to the very edge of orgasm.

Recognizing how close she was, John shoved his customer’s knickers unceremoniously to her ankles. ‘I want to see you on your hands and knees,’ he ordered.

Sinking against the carpet as instructed, Jenny’s breathing snagged as she heard the sharp rip of a condom packet being opened. Seconds later, Jenny found her courier’s thick cock sliding into her from behind. She was about to tell him how fantastically full she felt when John wiped all coherent thought from Jenny’s head by jamming his thumb up her arse.

Nuzzling his mouth against Jenny’s neck, John thrust against her, holding her hips as they frantically moved together. Trembling, Jenny’s knees began to buckle and her elbows quaked. Seeing she was about to collapse to the floor, John eased out of her body and flipped her onto her back before plunging his dick inside her again. She clung onto his tattooed arms (ignoring her lifelong aversion to body art), relishing the glorious warmth of her orgasm as he shot his spunk into her naked body.

As their breathing levels returned to normal, John knelt close to Jenny, teasing out the springy curls of her hair as he spoke. ‘I’m sorry Jen. I don’t like just walking out on you, but I have to go. I’m behind with my rounds.’

Jenny watched her courier dress with lightning speed, leaving in a flurry of promises and assurances that he’d return the following week.

The living room seemed so large, so empty, once John’s bulky frame had gone. Stunned and disheveled, Jenny stared at the space around her as delayed shock kicked in. How the hell had that happened?

It had been years since Jenny had had sex: twelve years, in fact, if you discounted one brief and unsatisfactory encounter three years ago. That was four thousand, three hundred and eighty days of a self-imposed embargo after one-too-many broken hearts. She had survived by surrounding herself with friends, reading hundreds of erotica books, and giving in to countless masturbation sessions. But now, out of nowhere, right in the middle of her lounge, when she should have been sitting at her little desk checking other peoples’ accounts, she’d been thoroughly and expertly fucked.

Standing perfectly motionless, very aware of her pulse pounding against her chest in the eerie quiet, Jenny tried to figure out what on earth had just happened. How their usual coffee break, with each of them sitting on either side of her dining table, had developed into a semi-naked romp on the sofa.

John had been in her home for only thirty minutes, and twenty of those had been spent discussing the DVDs that he’d come to deliver, just as he did every Tuesday. Then, he’d said something about how much he enjoyed their weekly chats, how hers was the only home where he was received as a friend, and how he always felt strange leaving her without so much as a hug.

Thinking back, trying to make sense of it all, Jenny thought that perhaps she’d laughed nervously when he said that, and told him she liked their ‘putting the world to rights’ time as well.

That was when he’d actually hugged her for real, and she’d looked up into his wide, dark brown eyes; and in all of her thirty-three years, she had never felt a twist of lust like the one she felt then. It had burnt into her like some sort of erotic radiation.

How did I not see that coming? How bloody naive have I