Prime Day

I sometimes feel like my apartment is some sort of deep space mission ship. I never get to leave, I’m all alone except for my computer and every now and then a “supply mission” arrives at my airlock. Or as you might call it, the front door.

These supply missions vary. Occasionally it’s Hector from the Mexican place I order from far more often than is healthy for a given human being. He brings me my burritos. Occasionally, it’s Kevin or this old guy whose name I never got who bring me my shame pizza. Groceries arrive on Thursday but I can never see who brings those. And there’s a parade of FedEx and UPS drivers that bring me all the supplies one needs (or doesn’t quite need actually) to survive during the pandemic.

But there’s Amy. Amy is my friendly neighborhood Amazon Prime driver. I’ve found that if I select my packages to arrive on Amazon Prime day, I get Amy almost without fail. Amy is tall a lythe. She wears her brown hair in a ponytail. She has stong arms and shoulders and her shirts pull tight over those areas. She looks absolutely adorable in her Amazon vest. But it’s her pants that first woke me up to Amy’s existence. She wears tight ones that cup and cradle what is an exremely delicious butt and thighs.

It’s a common misconception that women are not visually attracted to others. While it’s true that it may be less than our male counterparts, we still get our jimmies in a rustle over something so sweet. The first time I saw Amy, a little voice in my head registered: “That’s a great butt”. The next time it was: “Hey, butt’s back!” and after that I began to anxiously await for it. Amy’s butt began to work its way into my sexual fantasies during private “alone time”. Amy will frequently also not wear a bra. She has tiny breasts with perky, happy little nipples that jiggle a certain way when she walks to my door. Needless to say, I’ve got a massive wide-on for Amy.

My job is remote and it requires me to work all day on a computer with several Zoom call appearances. So from the waist up, I’m done up like a runway model. I look good. From the waist down it’s often my ratty pajama pants that rule the day. Or sometimes, just my underwear. Or sometimes . . . nothing at all. From my office window at ground level you can see the clear pathway to the door and whoever approaches can see me. I’ll usually wave and meet them at the door. Sometimes, during the slower parts of my day my hand will just wander down and I’ll lightly touch myself. It’s not masturbation per se, it’s just me lightly stroking my smooth skin, or pinching my clitoris between my thumb and forefinger. Maybe I’ll insert a finger part of the way in and draw out some wetness and rub that over my exposed labia. Totally harmless and idle work. Unless I suddenly find myself flushed in the face with an aching clit and then I need to go take care of it right then and there. I’ve often fantasized about Amy in these types of situations.

She’ll come to the door and I’ll answer, But I’ll answer without any bottoms. She’ll have just set the package down on the doorstep and then she looks up, seeing the long trail of my legs culminating in my tightly shaved cleft. She’ll be suprirsed of course, but not offended. She’ll smile a wry smile and stare appreciatively at all that I have to offer. I’ll ask her if she’d like a glass of water. Of course she’ll say yes and I’ll turn around to expose my ass to her. My cheeks will jiggle playfully as I turn around and lead her into my aparment.

She’ll shut the door behind her as she waits in awkward anticipation. I’m thrilled at the idea of being exposed to this stranger. I can feel my wetness building as I walk around, totally naked below the waist to her gaze. I’ll come back with the glass of water and she’ll take a long sip. Reaching out with one hand and touching my upper thigh. Lightly stroking her fingers over my pale flesh. She’ll run her fingertips down the line of where my leg and crotch meet and eventually bring two fingers to my pussy lips and gently spread them open.

I’ll take the glass from her and she kneels down in front of me. She flicks her soft pink tongue expertly over my labia, probing for my clit. She feels so warm and so good that I gasp as I try and hang on to the half-full glass. I bring my free hand down on top of her head. Her hair is silky soft and it feels good to run my fingers through it as she pleasures me with her tongue.

She stands back up and brings her lips to mine. She’s taller than me by quite a bit so she has to stoop to kiss me. I can taste myself on her lips as they part and our tongues furtively touch each other. I reach my free hand around her waist and grab that tight ass I’ve seen through the window so many times. She moans and kisses me even more eaglerly than she has been. I’m raging wet by this point. I finally drop the glass of water and slide my hand down the front of her pants. My fingers thread through her bush and I’m shocked to discover how wet she is too.

We suddenly skip to my bedroom where we’re naked on my bed. It’s fantasy physics. I can do as I please in my own fantasies. And since this is my fantasy there’s all of a sudden a 6 foot 200 pound football player in my room with a 12 inch penis, a raging hard on and balls like a stallion. Actually, scrap that. A little too intense.

I lay Amy back on my bed and stare and her magnificently perfect breasts with nipples the size of silver dollars. I mount her scissor style as our labia come together in pure ecstasy. It’s difficult to explain just how wonderful this. In many ways it’s better than penetration by penis, although each one is great in its own way. We grind furiously against each other. Our moans are rhythmic and they become deeper, huskier, faster as our pleasure builds. Amy tilts her head back and calls my name. Her body seizes and shudders, she thrusts herself even harder against me as she’s frozen in a moment of pure pleasure. Watching her cum stokes my passion and I follow her in a matter of seconds.

We cuddle each other afterwards. She’s behind me with her strong feminine hands cradling my breasts, our bodies fitting together like perfect little puzzle pieces.

Alas, this is my realm of fantasy. Tomorrow is Prime Day. I ordered a box of garbage bags. Did I need them? Absolutely not, but with such great delivery service, who could blame me? And who knows . . . maybe fantasy can become reality someday.