“The Package, Part I” a (mostly) true smutty tale by DearGemma

[De****]

The condo door opened, and my heart quickened. A shadow towered over the front stoop, and me. “Hi…” I barely got it out. I didn’t like to think in stereotypes but ‘tall, dark and handsome’ came to mind. “Sorry to bother you, but I used to live here, and I think a package was delivered here for me instead of my new address.” Why was I sweating? It wasn’t hot out today. “I remember. You were packing up the attic when I came to tour the place, and I couldn’t stop looking at your ass in those yoga pants.” He looked down at my legs and back up. “I have it here somewhere, come on in.” Despite the voice in my head shouting “Fool! Do not go in! This is how you end up on Dateline!”, my feet carried me over the threshold as if possessed. While I ***d myself to make small talk, I became increasingly aware of how wet my thong was at this point. His deep voice answered my questions politely, but I wasn’t hearing him. At 5’4, all I could think about was what it would feel like for his 6’7 frame to pick me up and set me on the kitchen counter. “Get it together,” I scolded myself. “Just get the package and leave like a normal person.” He walked toward me holding the package I had come for. Could he tell I was soaking through my yoga pants? Could he hear my heart hammering its way through my muscles, my shirt? I managed to take the package from him without dropping it, our fingers grazing each other just briefly. They were huge hands, and before I could stop myself I pictured them holding my ass cheeks. He felt it, too. His eyes twinkled with mischief and desire. Before my knees could betray me and give out, I thanked him and walked back out of my old front door. Back in my car, hands shaking from the electricity between our bodies, I prepared to go home and take a cold shower. “Hey, wait,” his shadow darkened my driver’s seat. He leaned down resting his arms on the door. His breath smelled like mint and… lemon? Oh fuck me he smells like a summer day, too?? Before he even asked I already knew I was going back inside.

[Ch****]

Nice start

[Mr****]

Im excited to see the rest 😁

[De****]

“The Package, Part 2”
A (mostly) true smutty tale by DearGemma

Back inside the condo I quickly glanced around my former living room. Tidy. “He owns maybe twelve things total and nothing matches, so definitely single,” I thought. He offered me a drink and as he prepared it in the kitchen, I sat in the only chair he had. It occurred to me only too late that when I stood up, he would see the wet spot where my body craved him without my permission. He walked the five feet from the kitchen to me and handed me the drink. I don’t remember what it was, but I drank it all, hoping it would cure my sudden dry mouth. He made polite small talk but I heard nothing. The outline of his cock in the grey basketball shorts betrayed his neutral facade. He sensed I had no interest in last night’s football game or the weather and abandoned the small talk. He sat on the back of the chair, and there it was again, his shadow, reminding me that he is so much bigger than I. This could be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Or it could awaken something in me I didn’t know was dormant. Before I could decide, he brushed my hair to one side with his massive, gentle hand, and a wave of butterflies seemed to race from my neck to my toes. “I… I should go,” came out of my mouth, but it was purely obligatory. I had no intention of missing out on whatever this chemistry was. “I wish you wouldn’t,” he said softly as I stood. His eyes went to where I was seated. There, in a perfect outline of my ass and pussy, was a wet spot where my yoga pants had officially given up trying to contain my honey. His arm swung around my hips and he set me down on the edge of the chair. His breath was quicker now, and he was visibly restraining himself, just like I was. A switch had flipped in him, too. Our lips crashed into each other and I clawed off his shirt as he pulled my hips closer to his swelling cock. He barely got out the words, “Oh my god, you’re so wet. I have to taste you.”