Special Delivery
Nothing.
'Shit.'
Joel resigned himself to remaining on hold with customer service; though he realized after checking his watch, it had already been an hour, he knew it was a very delicate matter and he needed resolution. He had ordered an adult toy online, it had been scheduled to arrive that week, he had even received a text message confirming its delivery, but, much to his chagrin, the package was nowhere to be found. Possible scenarios raced through his mind, each adding to his indignity as the days went by; what if some kid stole it as a prank, could he get in trouble based on what they found? What if he ended up on a sex offender list and had to report in for the rest of his life? 'No,' he'd talked himself down off this ledge logically, 'the kid would have stolen my mail... that's a federal offense... still...'
It wasn't a conversation he'd enjoy having with local law enforcement, even if it was with that cute little red head who'd let him off with a warning for speeding last week.
He'd eyed his neighbors cautiously as they'd waved their hellos and he wondered if there was a particular smirk on this or that person's face... had they received his package by mistake? What if they'd opened it before realizing it was addressed to him?
What would they possibly think of the hand-woven, single tailed whip and matching leather cuffs, each embossed with his chosen moniker in the quiet kinky underground just beyond his straight-laced, suburban home? Would they guess at his hidden proclivities? His solid oak armoire; creatively displaying ropes, crops, and an impressive set of silver plated knives, it appeared as any other bit of a bedroom set, from the outside, one might expect that it held a revolving tie rack, cufflinks and a cedar block to keep the moths away. But this was his treasure chest and adding to the collection generally meant he'd soon be searching for new mate with whom to play.
Sadly, his latest relationship had devolved from a lack of stimulation outside the dungeon, as one might say. The chase withered into mediocrity, the challenge to predictability and the lovemaking to celibacy outside of the occasional event, at which time they always played with someone else. The split was amicable enough, no hard feelings, equal division of anything collected in their time together and a little extra in the form of a non-disclosure stipend for the next five years. He did, after all, have a reputation to protect.
On the outside Joel was a button down professional, his etiquette and decorum were top notch. He worked directly with high-level business people from many cultures and had learned how to chameleon into each society's traditions, as well as having a passing conversational grasp of their languages. He was not born well to do and had worked very hard shaping his image. Because of this, it was terrifying to think one moment could shatter the legacy he'd created.
Amidst the hold music, the intermittent beep of call waiting caught his attention; he didn't want to lose his place in line so he let the call go to voicemail, Joel soon realized this had been in vain because the customer service representative had little information and even less of an understanding of the English language to work with and how the frustration had begun to roil then! He was half tempted to ask where the representative was located, dip into his diverse sampling of dialect and promptly tell them to 'go fuck yourself' or some similar such insult not to be lost in translation. Instead he hung up calmly and proceeded to abuse a punching bag in the basement until his muscles became jelly and his lungs cried out for mercy. With the sweat dripping as he made his wobbly way up the stairs, Joel toweled off in the laundry room off the basement door and headed to the kitchen to mix up a smoothie and listen to his voicemail.
The blender whirred together liquid and whey as he worked his way through the prompts. Finally
"You have one new message and three saved messages... first new message:
Hi, (the voice is female) I'm looking for a Joel... (she butchers his last name) ...erm.. Sorry if I got that wrong (he smiles) anyway... I found a package with your name on it in my yard today (Fuck.) ... It doesn't look to be opened (Joel realizes he'd been holding his breath and lets out a sigh of relief) but with the storms lately, I figured it just got blown away. (Did she open it?) I can be reached at (it's the same number she called from when he was on hold, good.) if you could, just give me a call back and let me know if you want me to drop it off... or you can come pick it up, I just put it in the garage. (A pause shit... DID she open it??) Oh! My name's Alice by the way. (He can hear the smile in her voice...) Ok, so.. Uh.. Have a great day!
To save this message press 1-"
Joel pressed the digit, hung up his phone and downed his protein shake. There's still the question of whether or not she knew what exactly was in the box, but... at least now he knew what he was dealing with...
Or so he thought.
Joel decided to call Alice back, after a post work out shower. 'She sounds cute,' he thought, letting the hot water awaken the sensations in his shoulders, arms and back. Wondering if he'd seen her around the complex, he worked the soap into lather, '...maybe she's that little brunette with the dog.' Washing the sweat from his chest, under his arms and reaching back for the bar, he brought to mind the attractive late-afternoon walker; mid thirties with brown hair falling in waves around her shoulders or up in a high ponytail. Grabbing the shampoo he washed his own mid-length undercut of thick black hair before moving on to condition his short, full beard.
The woman, he recalled, had a petite frame that couldn't have been over 5'3" and was athletically slim of build. 'I could have fun with that...' Joel's thoughts continued to pull up images of this could-be Alice, stirring his desire with each remembered detail; she never wore make up, not that he'd seen and not surprising if exercising, but with the cougars in the complex one could never be too careful. 'Still,' he thought, grabbing his quickly growing girth, 'it's not smart to play in one's backyard...' and yet he was interested to see how the introductions would go.
He imagined coming to her door, how she'd peek at him before opening the door with a smile, he'd strike up a conversation and be invited in.
Of course in his mind it was the little brunette. Joel closed his eyes, the creamy conditioner slid easily over his length as he squeezed his way down the considerable shaft. Slowly, methodically he pressed him palm against the shower wall and let the water rain down across his shoulders, his fantasy in full swing behind closed eyes.
Her Siberian husky would rise from its massive pillow; acknowledging him, scrutinize and sniff about before it seemed to approve with a snort and pad into the kitchen for a snack. This would set her at ease. She'd offer him a drink, "Iced tea would be great." They'd sit in the living room and chat for a bit before she remembered why he was there. "Now, before I forget!" she'd rise, "This... is quite the package," the words were cast over her shoulder as she went to fetch the box and the thought of being exposed made his heart feel like jackhammer, ready to explode.
Until she came back with a devilish grin, "Aren't you the naughty boy?" The glint of desire in her honey colored eyes. "And if I am?" From there the imaginings tumbled through his mind until Joel became aware that the water now ran cold and his body shook from his evident release. 'Damn, wouldn't that be nice?' Joel wrapped himself in a towel and headed to the bedroom.
Time to give Alice a call.
The conversation was brief, a little flirty and her laugh was quite a pleasing sound. He was hoping to catch a glimpse of her when he stopped by the next day as somewhere in the back of his mind he hoped the fantasy could be played out. But as fate would have it, she was a bit too cautious than that. After all, she'd only lived in the community a short time, didn't know many people and rarely had the opportunity or inclination to socialize with the demographic that surrounded her. Joel had learned a little about Alice during the short phone call. She was 35, divorced and had no children, save Moxy, the dog. There was a momentary pause when Joel had asked, "So, how should we do this?" Granted, his inflection suggested innuendo and he could almost hear the blush in her quiet reply, "Well... uhm, can you come by tomorrow? Unless it's something important-" She promised to make sure the package was secure and safe from the elements by placing it in a bright blue tote on her front porch. Disappointed, but he didn't want to impose as she admitted she worked from home and couldn't necessarily answer the door when it was convenient for him to stop by.
Joel's early morning detour led him around manicured lawns and down a gentle hill. He wondered if he could see where Alice lived from his own home and made a mental note to check. The house was well kept, if small and in need of a few minor repairs. He could see the eaves were in desperate need of spring-cleaning and her porch wouldn't hurt for a good power wash. He smirked, wondering if she were similarly, subtly neglected, 'Well I could take care of that...'
___________________________________________________________________
Did she really workout in the nude?
It had been a few weeks since the weather and fate had placed Alice into his sphere of perception and it was the damndest thing how she kept popping up. 'Of course,' he told himself, 'frequency illusion being what it is I would be seeing her everywhere now.' Though how it was driving him mad! He would see her on late afternoon walks as he drove home from work, they'd nod or wave in passing but then she'd advert her eyes and move on. They'd run into each other once at the dry cleaners, Joel was picking up fresh shirts and she collecting a stunning little black dress. "Hot date?" He'd asked, "Funeral." She responded and quickly paid and left. 'Put your foot in it that time.' Joel chastised himself, and wondered why it was that this particular woman was so alluring; what was it about her aloof, careful condition that made him want to pull her aside and make her into a messy haired puddle at his feet?
It was pure coincidence, or so it seemed, how he managed to catch a glimpse from her window while off on a nighttime jaunt. The summer air was good for clearing his head, and he wouldn't go for a drive because he'd already had a stiff drink. So Joel laced up his tennis shoes and decided to take a leisurely evening run. Work was stressing him out, he needed a release and it had been months since he'd been able to play. The world fell away into a tempo of breath and heart beat. Joel became lost in the feeling of the pavement under his feet, beating out his frustration and releasing those calming chemicals from physical exertion.
Just as he looked up and realized he was headed towards Alice's street, there was a hill and park path he could take before doubling back around home and when he saw the light come on upstairs, he thought it was another nod from fate. 'I'm not doing anything wrong,' he persuaded himself, 'its not like I'm staring in her windows with binoculars or something...' Still a twinge of guilt pinched his side as he slowed his pace and took the hill carefully, quietly, with many a glance up towards the light spilling from what appeared to be a bedroom window.
An odd time for aerobics, but there she was skin slick with sweat and completely in the nude. The window was open to let in the summer air, but surely she had to be aware in the dark night her stark white bedroom light would garner attention and take away any privacy she'd hoped to have. But the curtains were mostly drawn, open just enough to let in the breeze and it was getting rather late, but as Joel leaned against the cover of a large oak tree he wondered. He'd just watch for a moment, not wanting to draw attention to himself, he was sure she didn't know, couldn't know that she was on display this way and so after taking in the imagery Joel headed home to process what he'd seen.
That night, as he lay in bed awake, thoughts of Alice filled his mind, each time he tried to get away from the images they would become more and more erotic.
'What was it about this woman?!' He saw each movement perverted; a set of hip thrusts became her slit slipping over the wand he wielded, counting out her reps, with each one he would move lower to meet her rising hips until she wreathed on the bed, waves of climax, shudders and moans of pleasure, her squatting with a weight held against her chest under crossed arms became her rope bound body lowered onto his lap, squeezing him with her insides on each upward press. Joel imagined keeping her in pace with one hand guiding her hips, the other gently on at her elbow, her arms skillfully restrained behind her. The push-ups playing into her pleasuring him with her mouth, each repetition of movement become more and more focused on the carnal creativity of his imaginings and less about the innocent evening workout of this woman with whom, he now seemed utterly obsessed.
Surely this wasn't all coincidence?
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