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Special Delivery

A special delivery turns out embarrassing and ends intimately.
You wouldn’t believe what has happened to me! I really thought you were kidding about the panties! Now, while I’m typing this, my cheeks are still burning and my fingers tremble with every letter I enter into the message window.

I mean, you told me to be prepared for the shipment. You didn’t tell me what you wrote on the package though. But you know that yourself.

* * * * *

It was this morning, around nine, on a perfectly lazy Saturday. I had just crawled out of bed, slipped into my white terry-cloth robe and thought about a long, hot soak in the tub when the doorbell rang. As it was far too early for any of my friends to show up unannounced - they knew my weekend habits by now - I hesitated for a moment, thinking I should really put on something more decent and brush my hair, which stood away in the oddest directions.

The bell rang again, and I ran out of time. “Coming!” I shouted and hurried down the stairs and across the living room.

I opened the door and there she stood. Barely eighteen, blonde and looking incredibly cute in that light brown uniform consisting of short pants which barely covered her bum and a tight top which exposed more of her upper body than it hid. The logo on the front of her baseball cap read “UPS”, and she had a small parcel under one arm.

“Morning, Ma’am, got a parcel here for you!” I thought I heard a strange undertone in her voice while she smiled at me with clear, blue eyes, but I blinked and told myself that I wasn’t really awake yet.

It was hard not to stare at her boobs, two small oranges that were just the right size for her sleek body. Their shape was perfectly hugged by the top, and they appeared just so firm and inviting.

“Uhm, come in, please,” I stammered and stepped to the side.

“I’ll just put it on the table,” she said, sashaying past me, “then you need to sniff, uhm, sign on the pad.”

I looked at her, first startled, then curious. What a strange slip of words! But then my gaze fell on the parcel under her arm and I grew dizzy with embarrassment. There, written in huge, bold letters, stood, “Used panties. Handle with care!”

“Oh my god!” The words left my mouth faster than I could think, and I blushed even more. I really had thought you were making fun when we were chatting. I swore myself there and then that I’d give you the verbal reaming of your life the next time we met online.

A thumping sound pulled me from my musings.

“Oops,” the girl said, and her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Now I’ve dropped it. What a shame!” And while she bent over to pick it up, the shorts stretching over her full, tight bum, her eyes met mine and fixed them with unbridled glee. “Now we’ll have to look inside, to make sure nothing has been damaged.”

My breath hitched and my voice shook. “That’s - that’s really not necessary,” I quickly declared.

“Nonsense.” She gestured to me as if brushing something away. “It’s all there in my rule book. Article twenty-three, paragraph four A - ‘If the packaging gets damaged or there is reasonable cause to suspect damage of the contained goods before the recipient has acknowledged receipt, a check on the delivered wares must be performed in the presence of the recipient to assert any causes for due liability.’”

“No, really, that’s not necessary!” I hastily objected. “I’ll just sign the receipt and everything will be okay!”

“Sorry, Ma’am, I can’t bend the rules.” She set the package down on the dinner table.

My heart hammered like mad. She wouldn’t really open the package? She was surely making this up to pull my leg. I felt finally able to move again, left my spot next to the entrance door and walked over to her.

But before I could reach her, she had pulled one of those small, yellow cardboard cutters from her pocket and ran it across the sealing tape with practiced ease. I started to tremble.

“Let’s see if there is a delivery list we can check against.”

“No!” I wanted to shout, but my words got stuck in my throat when I saw her pull out your letter. I tried to snatch it from her hands, but she simply turned around and presented me with her back, leaving me helpless and trembling.

She began to read aloud, slowly, dramatically. “...to think of me while you smell them. I’ll be imagining you, lying in your bed, pressing the stained crotch to your nose…”

I prayed for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow me whole.

“...breathing in deeply while one hand strokes the well of honey between your legs…”

“Stop, please!” I choked out, embarrassment surging through me in waves and bringing me close to tears.

To my relief, she put down your letter onto the table and turned around. It was short-lived, though.

Before I knew what happened, she had snatched a pair of pink, frilly panties out of the opened box and held them up with both hands, flipping over the crotch area and looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

“We’ll have to check if they are in working order, Ma’am.”

The rush of blood filled my ears. If I had been less shaken at that point, I might have simply pulled them from her hand, put them back into the cardboard box and told her to leave.

Instead, I just stood rooted to the spot, like a deer in the headlights, my eyes wide and my body trembling.

“Article twenty-four, paragraph one. ‘All feasible checks on possibly damaged wares must be performed before liability can be transferred to the recipient.’” While she recited the rules, her hands - and the panties - came closer and closer to my face and my breath started flying.

“It’s for your own protection,” she whispered.

And then the fabric pressed against my nose, softly, tickling it, and goosebumps exploded on my back and raced up and down, making me shudder and gasp.

“Sniff them!” she urged.

I inhaled. My chest drew the air in hard, and your delicious smell filled my senses and made me dizzy.

“Seems to work just fine,” the delivery girl commented, and her words were like a slap. A slap that wasn’t hard enough to quench the fire between my legs though.

“Let’s check the next one.” She put that one to the side and pulled out the next - a tiny thong, bright yellow, with a smiley on the front. I trembled all over.

“You know,” she suddenly said, holding the panties just inches from my faces, tempting me to lean in and push my nose into the bright fabric, “we should try to simulate as much of the practical application as possible.”

I was barely able to hear her, much less make sense of her words. Shame and arousal warred inside me and shook my core.

When she lowered her hands and I felt her pull on the slip knot in my belt, it became clear.

“God, no!” I protested meekly, even while the robes fell apart and exposed my naked body to her calculating eyes, my slightly saggy, too small tits and the spare ten pounds around my hips. I blushed so hard, my cheeks and chest prickled and burned.

“Oh yes!” Her voice changed into a drawl. She lifted the panties again, brought them closer and closer. “Do it!” she commanded, and her voice held no doubt that I would.

I drank in your heavenly scent again, and it was all the aphrodisiac I needed to make my last inhibitions crumble to dust. My hand sneaked between my thighs and found my snatch hot and dripping. Fresh shame welled up when I ran my fingers through my slit and spread the moisture all over my pussy lips, but it mixed with the delicious feelings that my own touches evoked and the naughty, forbidden lust in smelling you so intimately, reforming itself into something wonderful and breathtaking.

“Just like that,” she whispered, spurring me on, and I hardly noticed when she switched to a different, black pair of panties.

My fingers flew through my folds and took me higher and higher towards that summit of lust that called out to me. I moaned and shivered with arousal while I diddled my clit mercilessly.

She held my arms and stopped me. My lips were parted, my eyes heavy-lidded, a thin sheen of sweat had formed on my skin and my chest heaved.

She stared into my eyes. “I think we need to do a, uhm, comparative check.” It was getting harder for her to keep up the charade, I noticed that, even in my lust-filled stupor. Yet I couldn’t grasp what she meant at first.

Until she opened the button and fly of her shorts, that is, and pushed them down her lean, well-tanned legs. Her panties were of the thin, expensive white cotton kind, fitting snugly over her plum. I licked my lips when I saw the wet stain on the front that made them almost see-through. She was beautiful.

“Let’s see if that was the desired effect,” she purred and pushed lightly down on my shoulders.

I folded like a puppet whose strings were cut, and seconds later, my nose was buried between her legs, pushing against the moisture and filled with the arousing, youthful scent of her sex. My fingers started their dance again, and I could hear a soft moan above me.

“Oh my,” she giggled. “Such a naughty lady. But naughty ladies tend to give the best tips, don’t you?”

Her fingers pushed her panties to the side, and my tongue didn’t need prompting to slip between her soft, slick folds and taste her honey. I licked in long, hard strokes, all the way from that soft, forbidden patch of skin underneath her sex to the very top, making sure to run the full length of my tongue over her swollen nub. Her pelvis rocked against my mouth and she moaned, spurring me on.

Her fingers buried themselves in my hair and pushed my face hard into her pussy. I licked and suckled with abandon, my own fingers flying wild and feverish through my own folds, and the air was filled with slurping and moaning.

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Yes! Yes! Yes…” The last shout ended in a long, shaking, lustful groan, and she pushed her pussy almost painfully against my face, soaking it with her juices. I came as well, my body exploding with heated lust and my pussy clenching against the two fingers I had shoved inside.

She pushed my head back, and we both struggled to restore our breathing.

“Wow,” she gasped, grinning at me, “that was something new!”

My cheeks flamed up again. “Tell me about it,” I replied, unable to look her in the eyes. “Would you like a drink?”

“A water would be nice.”

“I’ll be back in a mo.” I re-tied my robes while I went into the kitchen to pick up a bottle of water and two glasses, and I took my time to even my breathing and wait out my post-orgasmic trembling.

She had, meanwhile, sat down on the table and started filling in a form. I set the glass down next to her and poured the water before taking a seat myself.

“Thanks.” She took a big gulped and let out a sigh. “Wow.”

“You’re writing an awful lot into that form,” I commented.

“Well, I have to give an exact account of the damage assessment procedure.” The corners of her mouth twitched.

“God!” I felt that dizzy feeling again. “You can’t! I mean, that was… improper!”

She just giggled. “Don’t worry, the only person who gets to read it will be my boss, Joanne.”

“Still,” I argued, “isn’t this against… uhm… company protocol, or such?”

She ran a fingernail over the back of my hand, and the small touch felt like sparks on my skin. “Anything that furthers customer relations is a good thing, Joanne always reminds me of that.”

“But… this is embarrassing!”

Her eyes twinkled. “As embarrassing as licking a girl’s pussy in front of the open entrance door?”

Fresh mortification washed over me. I had, in fact, completely forgotten about the door. Anyone walking by could have seen me! I had trouble breathing.

“Relax,” she soothed me, “nobody came by. I kept an eye out.”

“Thank god,” I whispered, looking at the floor.

“Now, please sign here with the pen, Ma’am.” She pushed the finished form in front of me and tapped her nails against the table top.

My hand shook. She had really written a detailed description of my - no, make that our - depraved actions! My cheeks were aflame when I scribbled my signature at the bottom of the page, but something compelled me to do it. She let me sign once more on that bulky computer thing she carried, and then your panties were, finally, officially mine.

“Thank you, Ma’am. I hope you’re happy with our customer service and will recommend us to your friends.” It was the usual spiel. But not quite. “Please don’t be surprised if my boss comes by for a follow-up check, she is very focused on quality assurance.”

“Your boss… here…”

“It’s all part of the customer service,” she piped while she put on her pants again. “Bye, Ma’am. Have a nice weekend!”

Then she was gone, and I sat there, shaken and still - or again - horny. I finally thought to close the entrance door, and then I made my way up the stairs with your gift in my hands. I spent almost all of the day on my bed, picturing the delivery girl whose name I don’t even knew, imagining what else our tongues and fingers could have done to each other. Then I’d switch fantasies, picturing you while I naughtily drank in your scent. I can’t remember coming so often in one day.

* * * * *

I don’t think you could have imagined what the words on the parcel would set in motion. But I can already picture the gleeful excitement in your eyes while you read my report. It’s going to take a while to get everything written, because just thinking of it makes me horny like hell - and because one of my hands is again busy between my legs.

Small moans escape my throat while I type my message to you, letter by letter: “You wouldn’t believe what has happened to me! I really thought you were kidding about the panties…”

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.


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