Advice From A Courier

I'm a receptionist for a law firm. There are four lawyers and two paralegals in the firm. Both paralegals are women as is one of the lawyers. At night, I'm taking classes to become a paralegal. The firm is paying half of my tuition. After a couple years as a paralegal, I plan to go to law school.

Maybe it was my fault my husband stopped spending as much time with me as he used to. When we were first married, George would fuck me two or three times a night. Many a morning I went to the office sore as hell between my legs and yawning from lack of sleep. It was heavenly. That was three years ago.

I got too engrossed in my work and my career. Although I was only the receptionist, I did a lot of typing when the caseload became backlogged. I often got home late. George would already be asleep. Our love life went from hot and heavy to cool and light.

Couriers came to our office every day. I signed for whatever they were delivering, and they left. I usually didn't see them for more than thirty seconds at a time. There was an older man from the courier service who came in frequently to pick up outgoing briefs and other packages. He was a pretty upbeat guy, always smiling, always cheerful.

One morning I was feeling down. It had been a week since George and I had made love. I had been trying to rekindle the flames between us, but he hadn't responded to anything I had done. I tried sleeping in the nude, wearing shorter skirts and t-shirts with no bra so my nipples showed. Nothing worked. I was beginning to fear he was having an affair.

This driver popped in around ten. He gave me one of his grins and said, "Smile. It doubles your beauty quotient."

I looked up and gave him a halfhearted smile. "I'm sorry," I said glumly. "I've got a lot on my mind."

"Hmmm," he said rubbing his chin. "Judging from that expression and your voice, I'd say it's marital."

"Am I that obvious?"

"It's the most common problem people bring to work. Somebody's not performing his husbandly duties?"

I looked down at my computer screen to hide my embarrassment and nodded my head slightly. "Easy fix, assuming you want a fix."

"Of course I want to fix things. I don't know where to start. I've tried everything I can think of."

"Walked around naked? Thrown yourself at him?" I nodded my head. "Too blatant. You have to get him to initiate things. It's a very simple two-step procedure."

"What are the two steps?"

"First, I have to be sure you really want him. How far are you willing to do?"

"I'll do anything."

"Anything? That covers a lot of territory."

Was he hinting he intended to proposition me? Maybe if I had an affair, George would find me more desirable. "Yes. Anything."

"Okay. After you've performed the first step, I'll tell you what the second step is."

"Why can't you just tell me what both steps are?"

"Because if you skip the first step, the second one is pointless. It's also the toughest. Most women won't do it."

"Let me guess. I'm supposed to sleep with you."

"No, that's not it. It is a pleasant idea. I'm not going to touch you. I'm married, too, and I don't want to jeopardize my relationship with my wife."

"What makes you think you have the perfect solution?"

"My wife and I were in your place once."

"All right. What's the first step?"

"Give me your panties." He said it so matter-of-factly I knew he was serious.

"You have to be kidding!" I gasped.

"I told you the first step was the hardest."

"You were certainly right. I can't do it."

"I understand. It took my wife a long time to work up the courage to take the first step. I'm glad she did because it saved our marriage."

"Why can't you tell me what the second step is first?"

"You have to be prepared for it, otherwise, you won't go through with it. The first step is your commitment to your husband and to your marriage."

"I'm sorry. I can't do it."

"Aren't men supposed to be the ones afraid of commitment?"

For the first time in a week, I smiled. He was right. I had been afraid of committing to George. I had only been going through the motions of trying to seduce him. I had been so committed to being a liberated career woman that I had forgotten about him and his needs. I prayed I wasn't too late. I stood up and reached under my skirt. I pulled my panties down past my hips and let them drop to the floor. Stepping out of them, I picked them up and handed them to him.

My eyes locked on his when he put my drawers into his pocket. This man whom I had only seen in passing as a simple functionary suddenly had become my savior. My pussy tingled in anticipation. I was still fully clothed, except for one garment no one ever saw, yet I felt as though he could see my naked body, especially my pubes. "Now what do I do?" I asked breathlessly.

"You're going to call your husband...."

"And tell him I gave you my underwear."

"No. I'll tell you what to say."

I took my cellphone from my purse and dialed George's number. I couldn't believe what I was doing. A strange man had my panties in my pocket, and I was about to tell my husband.... "Hi, Honey," I said softly.

"Hi," he said. "Is something wrong?"

"Why would you think that?"

"You never call me during the day."

"There is something unusual. I just discovered something. I can't believe I did this."

"What's going on?"

"When I was getting ready for work this morning, I -- damn, this is embarrassing -- I forgot to put on my panties."

The line was silent. Almost silent. I could hear his heavy breathing. After a minute, he said, "Are you sure?"

I had to laugh, "Of course I'm sure. Oops, someone just came in. Gotta go. Love you. Bye." I closed my phone before he could respond. I looked at the courier. "Are you sure this is going to work? He's not going to think I'm cheating on him?"

"Would you have called him if you were having an affair? Just do as I told you."

My phone rang. I looked at the screen and saw George was calling me back. I let it ring. I looked at the courier and said, "May I have my panties back now?"

"No," he said. "You would put them back on. That would undo what you want to do. Plus it would destroy your credibility with your husband. The most you would get out of this would be a small laugh. That won't get you laid."

"I don't understand how this is going to fix things between us."

"That was him calling you back?" I nodded my head. "Good. He wants to know if anyone can tell you aren't wearing your drawers. Has anyone noticed you don't have a panty line? Has anyone seen anything? His imagination is going into overdrive. Prepare to be raped when you get home. See you Monday."

He was out the door before I could ask him when I would get my panties back.

My cellphone rang again. The screen displayed George's office number. I started to answer it, then stopped and let it ring until the voicemail picked up the line. A minute later the phone on my desk rang. One of the paralegals was watching me, so I had to answer it. "Sara," George demanded before I could use my greeting, "what do you mean, you forgot to put on your panties?"

"I forgot," I said quietly into the phone. "That's all. It's no big thing. I have clients in the lobby. I can't talk now."

"Can you join me for lunch?"

"I don't think so. I have a lot of work to do."

"Okay." His disappointment was evident in his voice. "I'll see you tonight."

The rest of the day, I couldn't stop thinking about George. Was he suspecting me of cheating on him? Was he visualizing my uncovered pussy? I was. Was he contending with a stiffness in his pants? I hoped so. He called again at noon to find out if I could get free, but I turned him down, even though I had nothing to do. He didn't say anything, but his voice, again, was filled with disappointment. I stood up every few minutes just to pull my skirt down. The hemline never slid up any further than it did any other day, but I felt unusually self-conscious that day.

Five o'clock finally came. George was waiting at the entrance to the subway station as usual. For the past year, he had greeted me with a quick peck on my cheek. On that particular evening, he wrapped his arms around me and planted his mouth firmly on mine. I was stunned, but I knew better than to fight him off. My arms wrapped around his neck, and I returned his passionate kiss enthusiastically. We ignored the whistles and catcalls in the background. "I've reserved a room at the hotel down the street," he whispered.

"What's gotten into you?" I asked him as he led me away from the subway. His strides were so long I had to run to keep up with him. A minute later we were standing at the check-in counter of the hotel. Two minutes later I was laying on my back on a bed. "George, would you mind explaining what we are doing here?"

"Pull your skirt up," he demanded.

My eyes locked on his, and I slowly drew up the sides of my skirt until my bare pussy stared back at him. His breathing was labored. "Do you have any idea of the torment you put me through today?" he asked. "I couldn't concentrate on my work. All I could see in my mind was what I am looking at now, your naked pussy. How could you have been so foolish?"

"I was in a hurry." I told the lies the courier told me to.

"I mean how could you have been so foolish to tell me? Didn't you realize I would not be able to focus on my work?" He was tearing his clothes off as he spoke.

He dove onto the bed between my thighs. Roughly he pushed my knees wide apart and buried his face in my pussy. The five o'clock shadow on his face scratched my thighs, but I didn't care. His tongue probed my slit in search of my clit. My pussy was dripping with anticipation. George lapped at my nectar. My pussy lips opened on their own. His tongue traced the edges of my open gash and circled my rigid clit. My breathing was ragged. I filled my hands with his hair and tried to hold his head up to the level on my clit, but he pulled my hands away and kept on working on my opening. A couple minutes later a wave of extreme pleasure surged through my loins. My legs involuntarily closed around his head. His open mouth was drinking the juices I squirted out of me. "Where is it?" he mumbled.

"Where is what?" I asked.

"His cum."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your lover's cum. You must have used your douche."

"I don't have a lover. Why would I want a lover when I have you?"

He propped himself up on his elbows, and then sat on the edge of the bed. "I realize I haven't been very attentive lately. I figure you gave your panties to another man as a souvenir after you had your way with him."

"You sound like you want me to sleep around." He didn't respond. "Honey, I really did forget to put on my underwear."

"I'm sorry, Sara. I should know better than to think you cheated on me. After your call this morning, all kinds of crazy things began going through my mind."

I sat up on the edge of the bed beside him. "Should we order room service, or do you want to go out for dinner?"

"You don't have your underwear."

"So what? Who's going to know?"

"I will. I wouldn't be able to eat. All day I thought of nothing but getting you into bed."

"That doesn't sound too bad. After the way you reacted to my call, I may never wear panties again."

He stood and tore my clothes off. Within seconds I was on my back with his rigid prick buried in my cunt. His thrusts were so hard he hit my cervix with each stroke. His balls slapped my bottom. We both screamed with ecstasy when his seed exploded into my womb. Our climaxes left us gasping for breath.

Several minutes later he rolled off me. "Damn," he said, "I don't remember ever having sex that good."

"Me either," I said. "I wouldn't mind an encore."

"Not now. I can't move."

"Where's the phone?"

"Don't tell me you want to keep going. I'm going to need help. Go ahead. Call for reinforcements.

"No, silly. I'm going to call room service. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. Of course," I added with a sly grin, "you've already eaten."

He looked into my eyes. "I think I'm ready for seconds," he said as he began lapping at my dripping pussy. He wasn't aware he was eating his own cum.

Around midnight, we stopped having sex long enough to order dinner from room service. Neither of us bothered to put any clothing on when the server knocked on the door. His gawking at my naked breasts was enough to set George off again.

At some point Sunday night, I managed to squeeze out a minute to set the alarm to get us up Monday morning in time to go home so we could change clothes and go to work.

Around ten o'clock, the courier came in for the morning pickup. "I see somebody is smiling," he said with a grin.

"I don't know how to thank you," I said. "I had an incredible weekend."

"That smile says a lot. I'm glad it worked."

"You saved my marriage. I have to do something to show my appreciation."

I stepped back from the counter enough for him to see down to my knees. Making eye contact with him, I raised the front of my skirt until my bare pussy was completely exposed. "Are you sure there isn't anything?"

He swallowed hard as he stared at my slit. I dropped my skirt and stepped out from behind the counter. I took his hand in mine and led him to a conference room.

After placing the 'occupied' sign on the door, I shut the door and locked it. I cleared away the note pads and pens from one end of the table. Shoving a chair aside, I hiked up my skirt and sat on the table.

I laid back with my legs spread wide open. Without speaking he lowered his face to my slit and began tracing the line with the tip of his tongue. His arms wrapped around my legs and lifted them over his shoulders. The first stroke of his tongue sent a shiver up my spine. I started getting wet when his tongue passed my clit the second time. He continued licking my pussy lips in a slow, deliberate manner that had me dripping in a couple minutes. My labia swelled open giving him direct access to my nubbin. Quickly my passions rose to a peak, and my thighs involuntarily closed on his head. His tongue didn't stop. Within seconds I flew over the edge again. I stuffed my wrist into my mouth to keep from screaming. He continued to devour me, and I continued to cum.

After a few minutes, I was begging him to fuck me. I grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged firmly. His pants dropped to the floor, and he rammed his dick into my cunt. He showed my pussy no mercy, pounding me with his turgid prick until he could no longer hold back the inevitable. His meat became a solid shaft. His back arched, and he slammed fully into me and froze in position. His seed splashed into my womb. He shot more cum than George did. Completely spent, he collapsed resting his weight on his elbows and gasped for breath.

Several minutes passed before either of us could move. Slowly he stood up and tucked his wilted cock into his shorts, then pulled up his pants. His cum dripped out of me onto the table. He handed me his handkerchief. "This is all I can offer you to clean up with," he said.

I gave the handkerchief back. "That's okay," I said. I went to the telephone and dialed George's private work number. He answered on the second ring. I had left the phone on speaker. "Hi, Honey. Guess what I forgot this morning."

"I was hoping you were going to say that," George said. "Why don't we have lunch together today?"

The courier smiled as he left the room.