Delivering the Virgin(7)

I nodded, really impressed. Shit, Laurie was the real thing. I'd come in  for a quick fuck because the woman was just my type with a curvy body  and horny, slutty ways, but I'd stumbled upon a gold mine by accident.  The brunette was smart, resourceful, sweet, and not at all stuck-up,  helping new immigrants access public resources.

And I growled again, barely able to believe my luck, but I had no time to process it just now.

"Listen, what happened was amazing and I'd love to chat with you more,  but I gotta fly," I said, checking my watch. NYC Concierge tracked us  with a fucking GPS service and they could always see where we were, how  long we stayed at each stop. And right now, I was already way over my  limit, if someone was watching there'd be some hard questions to answer  once I got back. "I gotta jet, okay? It's been great, but it's my ass if  I don't."

And the girl nodded slowly, watching with wide eyes as I hauled my  massive form off the bed, fumbling for my boxers, pulling on the grey  jacket and baseball cap. Yep, I was just the delivery man, anonymous in  nondescript clothes. But I didn't want this to be fly-by-night, so I  leaned down and kissed her, pressed my lips against her soft, plush  ones, the pink pout opening slightly, inhaling the sweet scent of her  breath.         

     



 

And fuck, but Laurie was so delicious, so curvy and nubile on that bed,  still nude, still flashing her tits and cunt that I almost ripped off my  clothes and jumped back in with her, ready to stroke, to take, to  devour. But I couldn't. Fucking Homer from Human Resources was going to  be on me if I didn't get my ass moving, so I forced myself to stride  into the living room and pick up my bag by the door, the canvas grimy  and careworn.

The brunette followed me out, this time wrapping herself in a bedsheet, her curvy form only highlighted by the swaths of cloth.

"Thanks for delivering my package," she said softly, those caramel eyes  warm, limpid, nodding to the brown box lying on its side on the floor.

And I bent to kiss her again, breathing deeply of the essence of this woman.

"No prob," I rumbled, my eyes alive as I took in that sweet, sweet figure. "No prob at all."

And just like that I was gone, taking big steps down the stairwell as  the door closed softly behind me. But what Laurie didn't realize was  that I had every intention of seeing her again. I'd made my delivery,  sure, deposited loads of my semen onto her, spraying that curvy form  with creamy, viscous white  …  but I hadn't gotten into her body yet and  couldn't wait to begin.





CHAPTER EIGHT


Laurie




I sat at my desk, my chin propped in my hands, staring at the gray acrylic fabric while seeing nothing.

"Laurie, Laurie, Earth to Laurie," chimed my friend Tanya.

I sighed, spinning my chair around. Tanya stood in the doorway to my  cube, her scrawny frame propped up against one of the cube walls.

"Tan, you gotta be careful," I sighed again. "I know you weigh like  ninety pounds, but these are cubes, not real offices. If you lean  against the wall like that, it's gonna collapse and you're gonna be in a  pile on the floor."

Tanya snorted while twirling a piece of frizzy blonde hair. The tiny  woman was one of my most beloved friends and had a funky style all her  own. She mixed and matched her clothes, coming up with eclectic  combinations that clashed but somehow worked. And she always, always  wore a pair of statement glasses. Today's frames were angular and  purple, almost like goggles if you asked me but hey, that was Tanya.

And you couldn't keep my friend down, especially not when she was feeling sassy.

"Good, if this thing collapses and I get injured, then I can file for  workers' comp and retire on the payments," she snorted. But the blonde  straightened, taking her weight off the gray fabric at least.

"How was yesterday?" she asked, a concerned look sweeping over her face. "Your move go okay?"

My friend was the only person at work who knew about the horrible  betrayal by Gary, so she was asking with good intentions, inquiring into  the fucked-up soap opera that was my life. But how to explain? That  Gary had been blown out of my head, my heart, by one amazing experience  with a stranger? That I'd let the delivery man come in and fuck me so  hard, so thoroughly that I didn't care about Gary anymore, my past be  damned?

But that was hardly a PC answer especially with a million people buzzing  away in the cubes around us. So I just smiled and said lightly, "Yeah, I  survived. It sucked moving things five stories up without an elevator  because I probably strained my back, but I survived."

And Tanya just laughed then.

"Tell you what, we both file for workers' comp and then take a vacation  together. How about it, hon? Whaddya say?" she asked, crossing her eyes  at me.

And I had to laugh then. We'd be such a cliché, government employees who  milked the system for all it was worth, getting disability checks while  sunning ourselves on a Caribbean cruise. But I knew my friend was  joking so I giggled again.

"Nah, I'm okay, I'll survive," I said. "But listen, what does Saunders  want with us today? I thought our signs were really great, I mean people  don't need that much help with restroom directions."

I was talking about the icons we'd designed with the outline of a man  and a woman on them, along with the words "washroom" in various  languages. They'd be mounted in various government buildings like City  Hall and the public library, but honestly, you don't need translation  for this stuff. People can already tell from the pictures which one is  "Men's" and which one is "Women's." But our boss was an idiot of  Dilbert-like proportions and didn't hesitate to create unnecessary work,  making things up just to drive us crazy. And Tanya didn't hesitate to  mince words either, nailing it on the head.         

     



 

"That fucker has lost his mind," she whispered, rolling her eyes.  "Saunders is such a fucking douche, always wanting us to stay late yet  yelling at us to ‘be more productive.'"

I nodded. Because of course our manager was the proverbial government  lifer who had nothing better to do than push papers around while lording  it over us, his subordinates. But he was the boss, so what could we do?  I sighed, resigned.

"Listen," continued Tanya in a hushed voice. "Let's play hooky today.  Let's leave at four and tell stupid Saunders it's because we're checking  out those new signs up in the Bronx. That way we'll have an excuse to  leave early, and you know what? I live up in the Bronx so we'll head  there afterwards and drink wine. Wine, baby, wine, everything's good  with wine."

And I giggled softly as Tanya boogied down in my cube, shaking her ass  while doing a dance of joy. Normally I would have taken her up on the  offer because checking up on our signs was part of the job, and it was  only too easy to swing by my friend's place afterwards for a sip of the  good stuff. But I actually had plans tonight.

"Um, thanks Tan, but it's a no go, I have some business to get to," I said, biting my lip and going slightly red.

Tanya didn't even hear me, she was still getting down, twerking against  the gray cube wall, bouncing her butt against the soft fabric. I just  rolled my eyes again. Seriously, my co-worker really wanted the cube to  come crashing down with the way she was bumping and grinding.

"Tan," I said louder, raising my voice. "I can't tonight."

This time she heard.

"Why not?" she asked, making a pouty face, her lips pulled in a frown,  standing up straight. "Red, red wine not good enough? You want white?"

And I laughed while shaking my head again.

"No, I have plans already, you know, stuff that I committed to ahead of time," I said pointedly.

The blonde pouted again, but changed her tune on the turn of a dime.

"Oh my god, you mean divorce stuff?" she whispered, her eyes suddenly  wide. "Sorry, honey, didn't realize. Sure no problem, tell Gary to fuck  himself, he deserves it," she added.

And I tried to keep my expression neutral. In fact, it wasn't divorce  stuff I had on my plate, but it was easier to let my co-worker think it  was, distract her from the real story. So I just nodded soberly.

"Yeah, I have some papers to sign and all that," I mumbled, dropping my head as if devastated. "It's really tough."

And Tanya was immediately repentant.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," she cooed, putting an arm around me, her hand  warm and reassuring. "Like I said, tell him to fuck himself. Tell Gary  DeGroot that Tanya Smead says ‘fuck you.'"

And I had to laugh again.

"Okay, I will. How about the Bronx tomorrow?" I asked to appease her.  "We should check out our handiwork at City College, who knows where they  hung the signs this time?" And it was true, last time our stuff was  posted in a utility closet where absolutely no one could see it.  Literally, in a dark closet with the door shut where it'd be no good to  anyone. God, sometimes I just didn't know how the world continued to  function, what City government was coming to.