I’ve been dying to tell someone what I want to do, but I just haven’t had the nerve!
It’s all Kay Jaybee’s fault. Well, partly her fault.
I’ve always had this thing about the smell of cardboard—there is something about it that acts like an aphrodisiac for me. You should see me having a sneaky inhale whenever I pass a delivery van being unloaded in the street.
If I get a delivery at home, HELL, I get so excited while I wait. I swear my chest swells and my pussy gets wet…the anticipation, I love it! I’m always ordering stuff I don’t need, just so I can have the thrill of waiting for it to arrive. No sooner has a cardboard box come off a delivery van into my eager hands, than I can’t wait to take it upstairs to my bedroom—and more importantly, to my vibrator, which has bought me off time and time again as, with my eyes closed, I sniff at the cardboard.
Until I’d read Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With A Delivery Man, I’d never considered the couriers themselves. If anyone is going to be infused with the scent of cardboard it’s a delivery man. The more I think about it, the more I want to find out—I want to know if the men that deliver the boxes smell as heavenly as the parcels themselves.
I must have read and re-read chapter one of Not Her Type a hundred times—I want what the lead characters had; I want to invite a courier in for coffee, sit next to him, and find out if cardboard and the aroma of the hardworking male really do go together.
I have a delivery coming tomorrow—the driver is really hot. He has dark eyes you could just fall into, just like John in the book. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll be brave enough to ask him in for coffee. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll find out if Kay is right about delivery men…
Thank you for letting me share, Alice,
ALICE SAYS: If you want to read about a really HOT delivery man too, you can get Not Her Type here: