Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With a Delivery Man Read Online Free PDF

his face between her legs morphed into dreams of Jo.
The girl she’d once known. The girl she’d sort of told John about, but not
properly—not yet.
    Within the confines of her night-time
restlessness, she had pictured John sitting on her armchair, his cock in his
hand, wanking off as he watched Jenny come beneath the ministrations of her
ex-girlfriend. His eyes were on stalks as he studied the striking redhead
cradling Jenny, her tongue lapping at Jenny’s breasts, her hands drifting over
Jenny’s stomach…
    By the time she’d awoken from her fitful
slumber, Jenny felt as if she’d spent the entire night with a vibrator and
half-dozen pornographic books.
    Now, taking a steadying breath, Jenny drew
her shoulders back and headed to the parked lorry. Abnormally conscious of the
clatter of her heeled boots against the tarmac, she weaved between the parked
cars.
    A broad grin lit John’s rugged features on
her arrival at the passenger’s side of the truck’s cab. ‘I thought you’d be
late.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘You’re a woman, aren’t you?’
    Jenny peered at him over the top of her
sunglasses, ‘I’m me, and I’m always on time for everything.’
    The smirk at the corner of his smile told
her he accepted this information, but didn’t necessarily believe it.
    ‘So?’ Feeling self-conscious as she climbed
into the van next to her delivery man, Jenny said, ‘Obviously I got your note,
then.’
    John’s dark eyes pierced her own. ‘I didn’t
think you’d come.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘I’m not the sort of guy you’d normally be
seen with, am I?’
    Briefly Jenny considered lying to him,
telling him not to be so stupid, but the little they knew about each other
confirmed it to be a truth not worth denying. John was without a doubt the
lowest educated person she’d ever been with. Male or female, all the others had
held degrees, and many were doctors of some obscure subject or another.
    ‘To be honest, no, you’re not. But then, I
don’t suppose I’m the sort of person you’d usually be seen out with either, am
I?’
    This time John laughed out loud, ‘This is
true.’ He placed his palm over her knee, and despite the fabric of her
ankle-length skirt, his touch all but singed her. ‘I don’t tend to do posh,
Jen.’
    ‘Posh? Me? You have to be kidding!’
    ‘You watch foreign films, read novels, and
unless your TV watching habits have changed since we last exchanged a coffee,
you don’t even like soap operas. And I bet if a world-famous celebrity walked
in front of us right now you’d have no idea who they were. That’s posh where I
come from!’
    ‘That’s not being posh, that’s having good
taste!’ She gave him a teasing sideways glance. ‘Well, if I’m posh, wouldn’t
that make you my bit of rough? After all, you have two tattoos, which makes you
virtually a criminal by my grandparents’ standards!’
    ‘You’re kidding!’
    ‘Nope,’ Jenny laughed. ‘So, why the
tattoos, then? What do they mean?’
    ‘Haven’t a clue. I was pissed and, well, it
seemed like a good idea at the time.’
    ‘Did you never try and find out?’ Jenny was
already keen to know what secrets were scarred into his arms.
    ‘Nope.’ John gave her a quick look that
told her the tattoo conversation was over, and simultaneously conveyed precisely
how difficult he was finding it to restrain himself from leaping on her there
and then. He tore his eyes from the passenger seat, and stared blankly out of
the window.
    Directing them back to the matter at hand,
Jenny asked, ‘Why did you want to see me today?’
    ‘I wanted the chance to get to know you
outside of sex. To ask you about you .
To see if you exist on a Friday as well as a Tuesday. Is that okay?’
    Jenny nodded, and took her chance to say
what she badly wanted to say before she chickened out. ‘Look, honey, I know you
like that I’ve had sex with women, but that hardly makes me unique. Loads of
girls try it with other women – it’s fun, so why