By Paz Edwards

Copyright © 2008 | All rights reserved

Contemporary Erotic Romance

After several failed relationships with blue-collar men, artist Kaylin Addison decides to increase her chances of romantic happiness by centering her dating energies solely on professional men.  Her new plan is side tracked by her inability to stop fantasizing about her hunky UPS deliveryman, Enrique “Santi” Santiago. Her attraction to him grows stronger with each delivery. 

Santi’s had his eye on Kaylin for months.  He’s elated when he finally gets an opportunity to spend a night with her – until he realizes how she feels about dating blue-collar men. To win the woman he loves, he’ll have to convince her to accept one final, special delivery from him – the love and devotion of a passionate, blue-collar man determined to make her happy.

EXCERPT

“Yes!  That’s it!”

           My body felt on fire as long thick fingers separated my labia.  Then a velvet-like tongue stroked my swollen clit before gently sucking it.  I widened my legs and felt humid breath on my pussy as a nose nudged it.

            “Oh, yes!” I repeated as the mouth on my dripping cunt began to eat me out.  I raised my hips to show encouragement.   Up until then, I’d gripped the headboard bars, but I wanted more and brought my hands down to clutch the head covered with long silky black hair.  I pressed it into my pussy as I continued to raise my hips into his face. 

“Taste me!  Eat me! I’m all yours!”

“Delicious,” he spared a second to tell me. 

As good as it felt, I soon wanted something longer and thicker than a tongue in my pussy.  “I need you inside me,” I begged.  “Please.  Now.” 

He circled his tongue once more around my clit, kissed the juicy slit of my pussy before raising his head and moving on top of me.  Soon I felt the head of his cock probe my opening.  Whimpering in anticipation of his delicious cock filling me, I couldn’t wait to feel him stretch and stuff my pussy.

All of a sudden my alarm clock sounded.  He stopped moving.  

“Don’t… Don’t stop!”  I cried out.  I raised my hips to try to get his cock into me but this time I couldn’t feel him.  His body weight became lighter and lighter, till he disappeared. 

Shit, I’d been dreaming of Enrique Santiago – Santi – again!  This fine-looking Latino brotha was my UPS deliveryman.  I’m an artist and work out of my two-bedroom apartment.  He frequently delivered supplies to me.

The first time we met, I felt an instant physical attraction, starting with the sound of his voice and ending with the way he looked.  I wet my panties at his tone of voice.  He had a deep, melodic, sexy voice that caressed my ear and triggered all my senses. The timbre in his voice always got me hot and bothered.  “I have a package for Kaylin Addison.” 

I signed for it and tried to discreetly check him out.  Six feet, long black hair secured at the nape of his neck in a neat ponytail, smoldering brown eyes and a seductive smile captivated me.  As one of my Spanish-speaking friends would say, “¡Que mango!”  What a mango!  He looked juicy and mouth-watering, like a mango, my favorite tropical fruit.

As I did with a mango, I wanted to peel his brown uniform off, get a good taste of his cock, and have his cum explode in my mouth.  I wondered if he’d been with a black woman before and what he looked like nude.  Were his abs as flat as they appeared to be under his brown uniform shirt?  Were his buns as tight and his thighs thick and firm underneath those brown shorts?  Did he have a large and handsome cock as I’d envisioned?  Was he cut or not?  Would his cock live up to my fantasies?

 I fought my attraction for almost a year because I didn’t want to date a man who wore a uniform.  What?  A sista’s not allowed to choose who she wants to see and not see?

After several failed relationships with blue-collar men, it was time to try a professional man like a lawyer or doctor.  This is a free country, ain’t it?  I was simply exercising my right to free will.

                Every one of my relationships had ended in heartache and I wasn’t about to let that happen again.  All my ex boyfriends were blue-collar workers.  Once into the relationship, each turned out to be jealous, possessive, and or unfaithful.  I figured that I had a better chance dating a professional.  After my experience with blue-collar workers, I figured a man who worked as a professional had to be supportive, loving, and faithful.  He’d be someone who wouldn’t hurt me.  It was worth the effort to try and find out. 

           In the meantime, I found myself deeply attracted to Santi.  I couldn’t get his stimulating deep voice, hot uniformed body, or friendly manners out of my mind.  Despite his good-looking appearance, he didn’t act like a conceited jerk or jock – the way some other good-looking guys I knew behaved.

The next few months Santi made deliveries to my place, we exchanged pleasantries and soon began to say more than a few words to each other.  After months of his “Ms. Addison” me to death, I finally told him to call me Kaylin.  He gave me a slow, sexy smile, and nodded.  “Okay.  I will.  If you’ll call me Santi.” 

I believe he was attracted to me, too.  Always respectful with me, I could have sworn that on at least one or two occasions, he looked at me with a passionate gleam in his eye.  The look would disappear after he glanced down at the electronic device that he would ask me to sign for the delivery.  Another time, I couldn’t help but notice his cock bulging in his uniform shorts.  Long and thick, it looked impressive.

The buzzing alarm clock broke through my thoughts.  I got my bearings and realized that I lay spread eagle, buck-naked on my bed.  The covers had been thrown off and my hands still clutched the headboard behind me.  I finally moved and shut the alarm off.

I reached in my bedside table drawer and pulled out the only thing that had satisfied me for quite some time now – B.O.B., my battery-operated boyfriend.  My vibrator. A girl’s best friend when she’s left to her own devices.  I’d recently bought this one when I started having fantasies about Santi.  Massive with life-like bulges, veins, and heavy balls, I called it Santi Jr.

                I gripped my new vibrator and brushed it against my cunt.  I pretended it was the real thing and rubbed it against the lips of my pussy.  I teased my clit before turning the speed up higher.  Pushing it in and out of my wet pussy several times, I enjoyed the vibrations.  When I used my other hand to rub my clit, I imagined that it was Santi’s hand that brought me pleasure till I moaned his name and came.  My B.O.B did its job.  I felt better but still wanted the real Latin cock.  Next time, I planned to approach Santi.