Full Package

Her husband nods sagely.

“Mail can have a way of bringing you down,” Josie chimes in. “Unless someone sends cookies, money, or candy.”

The woman laughs. “Now, that would be a good mail day.”

They exit on the fifth floor. When the elevator slows at our floor, I return to Josie’s last text. “What did you have in store for me tonight?”

A flirty look is her answer as she exits and leaves me with this enticing command: “Come find me in ten minutes and you’ll see.”





25





A lustful kind of anticipation camps out in my body. This is the adult equivalent of waiting for Santa Claus. And I was one hell of a fan of the jolly man in red. But right now, as I knock back a glass of Scotch in the kitchen and check the time, I’m confident that whatever is waiting for me under the tree that is Josie’s bedroom will be better than any bike, Star Wars toy, or game of Operation I’ve ever received.

And I did love Operation.

But I love sex way more.

Let me amend that. I love sex with Josie way more than any gift. More than nearly anything.

The sound of a slow, sexy song drifts through the apartment. I close my eyes, listening. It’s low and seductive, and I can’t make out the words from here, but I recognize an invitation when I hear one.

I finish the amber liquid, set the glass on the counter, and follow the sound of the honey-voiced singer.

Our place is small. It doesn’t take me long to reach Josie’s room. The music grows louder. Sounds like one of those female crooners with voices that ooze sex appeal. The words and lyrics do the same, too. Joss Stone maybe, singing about the higher you take her.

The door is ajar. A sliver of light shines into the hall. I rap lightly.

“Come in.” Her voice is smoky, like this song.

When I push open the door all the breath rushes out of my lungs. “Jesus fucking Christ,” I groan, as my cock thickens.

Josie rests on top of the white covers, her brown and pink hair fanned out on a pillow. She wears pink lace panties and one of those bras that cover only half her miraculous tits. Demi-something, I think it’s called.

Actually, I don’t give a shit what her lingerie is named.

I’m renaming this ensemble the most arousing thing a woman has ever worn. Though, what makes the sight such an immense turn-on is the location of Josie’s hands.

One cups her right breast, kneading.

The other? Dear God in heaven. The other hand plays between her legs. Her busy fingers stroke the wet panel of her panties.

My dirty reel has come to life. She meets my eyes, and the glint in them beckons me.

I swallow dryly. My throat is parched, and I grab the tail of my shirt, tug it over my head, then unzip my jeans in a flash. I set a new record for undressing when my briefs come off a nanosecond later.

“You,” I rasp out, as I get on the bed at her feet. “You’re so fucking sexy we’re going to need a new word for it.”

She smiles at me, her finger rubbing the outline of her swollen clit. Breathily, she asks, “Is this the kind you like to watch?”

I set my hands on her knees, opening her legs more as I stare at the gorgeous, erotic, beautiful sight in front of me. My girl in pink, her panties wet, touching herself because she can’t help it.

I shake my head. “I don’t like this. I fucking love it, Josie.”

Kneeling, I take my throbbing cock in my hand, running my palm down the length.

Her hips shoot up. “Oh God, that’s so hot,” she moans.

“Yeah?” I do it again, stroking my dick as she watches me.

“That’s what I was picturing before you walked in.” Her fingers move faster. I can’t look away from her. Not that I would. I’m not insane. I am, however, insanely aroused because she’s so fucking wet. She’s become my greatest fantasy. “You jerking off on me,” she says.

Jesus Christ.

I was wrong.

This is greater than my hottest fantasy.

Because she’s not just getting off—she’s getting off to me.

“Take these off now.” Reaching for her panties, I tug them down her hips, along her luscious thighs, and over her ankles. Her fingers immediately return to her pussy, but I shake my head.

“I want you naked. Bra, too,” I tell her, and as she unhooks it, I press my hands to her thighs and part her legs farther.

My dick is so hard right now, it’s fucking aching for attention, but this—her bare pussy is the stuff dirty dreams are made of. She’s slick and wet, and so wildly turned on by thoughts of me.

I’m floored—fucking floored—by the utter dirty perfection of this woman.

Now that her glorious tits are freed and she’s as naked as I am, I tip my chin in the direction of her pussy. “Now resume doing the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”