Special Delivery

By Sara Jayne

Casey Jenkins is working from home as a product tester and secretly crushing on her regular delivery guy.
She doesn't know how to move forward until one day he knocks on the wrong day, with a very special delivery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sara Jayne
• Release date: Dec 11, 2018

Sara Jayne

Hey there Lovelies.I am Sara and I'm here to share some delicious fantasies with you.I play dirty right here in the UK and you can follow my in all the usual social media hangouts.Just throw my name into the search bar and look for my favourite heels ;-)

Book preview

Chapter One

Hi, My name is Casey Jenkins and I am a professional product tester. No, that’s far too formal...

Hi, I'm Casey, I'm thirty-four and work from home. Ridiculous and unimportant.

Hi, I'm Casey. Oh for goodness sake, this is complete nonsense, he clearly knows I'm Casey, since he brings my parcels every single week and has done so for the last year. I am such a social reject!

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So here's the thing, right, as you know I'm Casey: thirty-four years OLD, working from home as a professional product tester. I test...well, I test...let’s call them personal products, shall we? I work for a large company, whose advertising states: all products are shipped in discreet packaging; so don't be shy...You with me? Oh, hell! Sex toys, okay? I get paid to try out sex toys. Pretty awesome, right? Well, yes it is. Obviously, my sex life is great, but only in so far as it can be, as a solo activity. Thing is, working from home doesn't exactly come with a banging social life—pun intended. I don't meet anyone, and I'm starting to forget how to talk to people, I think. Or maybe it’s just that the delivery guy is super fit. It’s pretty ironic, I'm sure; I have a huge crush on the guy who brings me new sex toys to play with every Tuesday. I would be totally lying if I said he never featured in my fantasies.

But reality is, I am not getting any younger. If I don't pull my finger out—again, pun intended—and find someone, then I will almost certainly end up alone and withered like a dried up prune after all my solo orgasms. Like really, if I could have a conversation with a Rabbit then I probably wouldn't even care but, at this point, I have started talking to the fridge. This delivery guy though, he is absolutely gorgeous, I keep hoping to bump into him somewhere when he's not working, but then of course, he probably wouldn't even talk to me since he doesn't have to.

He took over this round about a year ago, after the previous guy retired. It was a shame actually, because Harry was a lovely old boy, but I tell you, that first delivery, I literally dropped my phone. There was the usual knock and there was me shuffling to get the door, first coffee in hand and hair all over the shop. And there he was, standing there for all the world, looking like some kind of Adonis in a high-vis rain slicker.

As I looked up into his crystal blue eyes, I felt my jaw drop and my phone slip from my hand. At least it wasn't the coffee, but still, I felt like a complete fool and was left hoping he was the new, regular delivery guy—also that he wasn't—because I was mortified.

Obviously, he did turn out to be the new guy, and I have made a concerted effort to look good on a Tuesday ever since. After a couple of months filled with stuttering my thanks and blushing furiously every week, he surprised me. Where previously he'd been polite and professional, this time seemed a bit different. As I went to take the parcel, he held onto it until I looked up and into his eyes, and oh my goodness, my knees went weak all over again, and I'm certain I probably blushed.

My name's Cameron. I literally had no words other than to squeak and run away, as usual. Well, that was four months ago and I have yet to pluck up the courage to continue any kind of conversation. My ritual now is to be dressed and presentable on a Tuesday, ready for that knock on