We Deliver all Things Pt. 02

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“Look at those legs,” exclaimed Alex, stopping at the turn of a page. He touched a finger to the glossy catalogue and made a little movement on the photo, as if the smooth paper was the skin of the model and he touched her.

“Yours are just as good,” said Alice, curled beside him, her own long legs tucked knees against his knee; her cheek on his shoulder. She tugged the front of a silk gown over a bare breast and studied the photo.

The model sat in a vintage empire chair in a three-quarter profile to accentuate the line of her legs, and to reveal the pale thigh between the black stocking top and the black knickers she wore. A garter belt with extravagant bows on the straps finished the presentation. High heels, of course, perfectly angled. The photograph was in black and white, but you just knew the chair was covered in glorious red velvet, deep red, her skin a pale contrast against it.

“Seriously, they are.” Alice ran a finger along his smooth thigh. “Longer even, and just as well shaped. It’s just that she’s got stockings and heels to show hers off.” She took the catalogue from his hand, made a note of the page, then straddled him.

“I’ll order a set. We can try them on and slide them off.”

Alice opened up the silken gown and pressed her breasts against his chest, and sucked his lower lip between her lips. She pushed Alex back against the couch, twitched aside the satin slit of her French knickers, and eased herself down onto him.

* * * *

— Alex, come over tonight, the postie’s been. Two parcels —

Alice’s text was a promise of delights. Alex knew her fondness for beautiful lingerie in brown paper parcels held no bounds, and part of her enjoyment was the careful opening up of the plain paper or plastic post satchel, slicing its tape and curling its leaves apart. That first revelation – did the contents match the promise from the catalogue or the magazine, or did they fail and disappoint? Then, best of all, did the garment wrapped inside exceed expectations?

Most did, but Alice had rejected at least one supplier because their packaging and presentation were so plain. “That was like a bad Christmas present from my crazy auntie,” she said, consigning the wrappings to the bin. “The knickers will do for gardening, at least.” Getting a refund was too much bother.

Alice had a ceremony for those evenings when the post arrived, and part of her pleasure was to share the ritual with Alex. She’d learned that he had the same sensual enjoyment of soft cloth and lacy nothings that she had, but he had one superb advantage, giving her a visual pleasure that Alice enjoyed even more.

He’d lounge beside her, his smooth but tightly muscled body clad in a skimpy posing pouch and wrapped in her silk gown, and Alice would gauge his pleasure by the slow thickening of his cock in its tight restraint. Sometimes, if his mood was against him or he was too tired, it would take the entire ritual of unwrapping, the dressing and the subsequent strip-tease, and sometimes even the torn away nakedness of her eager body, pussy shining and lips licked wet, for his cock to reach its full splendid length.

Other nights (they’d met quite a few times since he’d assembled her Ikea cabinet that first Saturday night) he’d come erect quickly and just want to fuck her, and Alice would miss out on her visual foreplay. She could never decide what she liked best – somewhere in between, really, because she liked a long tease. But a quick fuck… that too had a certain je ne sais quoi, and always led to something more.

She liked, too, the simple domesticity of their evenings. On a Friday night, when they’d both finished work, he’d come over, she’d greet him at the door with a kiss, and take him through to the kitchen. She’d pour two glasses of wine, or sometimes Alex would bring an Australian red, and they’d chat, wind down, while preparing a meal. He’d cut fine vegetables with her sharpest knife and Alice would measure out water, make sauces and sizzle the meat. She was a good cook, and loved all the tiny detail in her recipes.

Next summer, she thought, a pinafore dress would be fun in the kitchen, with white stockings and nothing else underneath, but it was coming into autumn and the baking scene with flour would have to wait. But her imagination, and his, continued on.

“What’s Jenny been up to?” he asked, and Alice gossiped about Jen’s most recent outrageous adventures, divulged with a giggle in the canteen at lunchtime. Sometimes she wondered if she should invite Jenny over one night, but she was greedy, wanting Alex for herself. She knew though, that Alex was a terrible flirt and liked Jenny, and sometimes she wondered what three in a bed might be like. But she couldn’t, or wouldn’t; or should she?

“Aren’t I enough for you, honey?” She tested him.

He grinned, but didn’t answer.

“You’re a dirty dog, is what you are,” she said. And Jenny somehow stayed in the room, as if she were part of them; and Alice, like her namesake, was curious.

Tonight though, two parcels. Before Alex arrived, Alice placed them side by side on the low table in front of the couch. His and sinop seks hikayeleri hers – she’d taken the labels off, but knew which was which. This time, Alex was the main course, but even so, she wanted him to enjoy the entrée. She’d make sure they opened hers first.

His familiar knock came on the door, tap de tap tap, very softly, as if she was his secret assignation. Alice felt a frisson of pleasure shiver between her legs and the ache inside her breasts was already there. She took a deep breath. ‘Slow down, Alice, don’t rush.’

“Alex, honey, long day?”

“Much the usual for a Friday. Nothing for Doc Turner though, so I missed you.”

“I bet you missed Jenny, too.” There she was, invited into the room by Alice herself. Alice checked down the corridor, as if to see a shadow sneak in, then shut the door behind her. She quietly came up to Alex and placed her head against his back. “Thanks for coming,” she said shyly, as if in constant amazement that he did.

“It’s always my pleasure, Doc. And yes, I did.”

“Did what?” Alice had forgotten her invitation already.

“Miss Jenny. Not as much as I missed you, though.” He took her mouth in a gentle kiss, and Alice thought he might be telling the truth. He held her for several breaths, and she felt tension melt away from him. “Don’t worry yourself, Alice Jane. We’ve got the weekend.”

He mussed her hair. “What’s cooking, good looking?” His mood shifted up a notch, gently teasing.

“Don’t be daft,” she replied with a smile. “Come through.”

They went into the kitchen, where Alex installed himself on a stool by the central bench. “Come here, love,” he said, with his arms outstretched. “What’s on tonight, chez Alice?”

“A simple spag bog. You’ll make a mess, I’m sure of it, and I’ll have to peel your shirt off, chuck it in the wash.”

She stepped into his arms, standing between his legs. Alex held her close in an affectionate hug, his caress of her cheek very gentle. “Huh? So trusting!”

“You’re a grub, and you know it.”

He laughed. She was probably right.

“Anyway,” she said, “special treats tonight. Two parcels.” She walked two fingers on his lips.

“What? Let me see.”

“Noooo. You can wait. Food first, before we…”


“Alex!” She was outraged for a microsecond, then gave him a deep tongue kiss. “Stop it. I need to cook.”

“You’re already cooking, good looking.”

“Idiot boy.” She smiled so much her head almost hurt. When Alex was in a playful mood like this, her heart lifted a million miles and she could walk on the moon. “How can you be so adorable?”

“Don’t rightly know, Doc. Just lucky, I guess.”

“Pfft.” She waved away his charm with a flutter of her fingers, like a bird’s wing turning in the sky. “Make yourself useful.”

And they chopped and prepared, cooked and ate. Two glasses of wine each, some soft music on the stereo, and she took him through to her parlour, like the fly to the spider.

To her lounge room, at least, where she parked Alex on the couch, before the two parcels. “See. What did I tell you?” She couldn’t hide her eagerness.

“What’s this one, Doc?”

Nooo, she thought. “Not that one. This one first.”

“How can you tell? They’re identical.” He looked at Alice with a rise of his eyebrow, but sat back and let her take control. “Open yours then, secret Alice.”

He watched her with fascination, and wondered what she’d be like at Christmas. Her excitement was palpable, and Alex thought she was already going up her arousal hill. Alice’s eyes shone as she picked up the parcel, turning it over once and running her hand over it.

She went into a world of her own as she opened it, slowly pulling the top of the parcel apart. This one had a tearaway tab which made things easier, and Alice pulled it along like a tiny zip. She looked up at Alex, as if for permission or in a joint conspiracy, when she was ready to open the parcel. She ran a finger down the opening to separate the sides, then placed two fingers into the slit to reach for the treasure within it. Beside her, she felt the steady rise and fall of Alex’s breathing.

“Go on,” he whispered, kissing her hair. “What’s inside? Let’s see.”

Alice reached into the tight parcel and slid out its contents, another softer package wrapped in some kind of shiny paper, a deep but delicate pink. There was a card attached to it, printed in a cursive script to make it look personalised. ‘Dear Doctor Alice Turner, with compliments, Gretta.’

Alex laughed. “Look at that, Doc. Just like one of my delivery notes.” He looked at Alice with fondness in his eyes. “Did you order this one from work, get a bit distracted where you were?”

“Oops. I think I did,” she replied, a little embarrassed by her eagerness to get these things on their way.

“It would have been okay. I’d have left them with Jenny at the desk.” Alex had noted the idea of Jenny entering the room, and kept her there, beside them.

“They’re in plain wrapping,” Alice said. “She wouldn’t have known.”

“No return to sender label, then? If undelivered?” Alex knew his labels and teased her.

“God, she’d have seen who they were from.” Alice worried.

“Sweetheart, you addressed them here. Your secret’s safe. With me.” He emphasised the last two words.

Alice felt relieved. She’d told Alex one day about her aspie circles, how an idea would plant itself inside her head and sometimes torment her for hours, spinning her exhausted like a top. He was good at spotting them arrive, and would steer them gently away with some other distraction.

“Open it, Alice. Show me.”

Alice returned to her ritual. It was calming, even better with Alex’s steady presence beside her. She touched his arm, thanks for knowing, but said nothing, nothing needing to be said.

“It’s beautifully wrapped,” she said, turning the package over, twice. “Shall I open it?”

Alex took the package from her and held her slightly shaking hands. “Let me,” he replied, taking over while she steadied herself. He very carefully twitched up the little flap with his fingers until the package was open. He spread it wider for Alice to see the inside first. “You do it,” he said, handing the revelation back to her.

He watched Alice’s face as she, with reverence befitting a nun, reached into the opening and pulled out the contents. There was a soft crinkle of paper, and a gasp from Alice. He looked from her face to her hands, where she’d unwrapped a delicate piece of white lacy cloth folded over so he couldn’t see what it was. She unfolded the cloth, then looked up to him with bright eyes.

“It’s just what I ordered. Look, here are the bottoms.” She held up a small triangle of cloth.

“Go put them on, Doc, so I can see.” Alice’s present to herself was a promise of loveliness, and would look much better on her than in her hands. “I’ll be here.”

Grateful for his part in her ritual, Alice stood up with the parcel and its contents in her hands. She bent down to kiss him on the lips. “Won’t be long.” She turned at her bedroom door, to love the long relaxed look of him as he lay back on the couch, watching her. He lazily smiled.

“Go on, you, I’m waiting.”

Inside her bedroom, Alice lay the package on the bed and stripped off her clothes. She slipped into the new garments, doing up the four buttons on the front of the top, just below the small valley of her breasts. She momentarily wished she were bigger, then turned sideways in the mirror. No, the fit was just fine, she’d ordered the right size.

And the soft fit of the bottoms over her belly was perfect. A thin laced band, half an inch wide, sat high on her hips and made her waist look tiny, and when she turned around to see her bottom, there was only a small triangle of cloth at the base of her spine. The cloth disappeared between her cheeks, and the natural curve of her pert bottom was the view from behind. Alice reached between her legs to adjust the cloth covering her pussy. She held herself there for a moment, cupping herself like a little bird, feeling her warmth through the soft white satin.

“Will I do?” she whispered to herself in the mirror, and saw herself nod. She gazed at herself ten seconds longer – this first imprinting was the best, seeing herself first. Lovely Alice. She smiled, in love with herself looking delicate and fresh, then went out to show Alex.

He was already watching the door to her bedroom, waiting for her return. When she appeared he said, “Stop there, let me see you.” Alice soaked up his look. “Turn around, let me see your behind.” There was a pause for ten long seconds. Alice slowly turned, waiting for his considered reaction. “They’re really pretty, Alice. Sexy, but innocent too.”

He beckoned her to him. “Come sit on my lap. I want to play.”

Ahh, bliss, thought Alice. What he meant was:

‘I want to take these off you slowly, in between kisses, so you’re wet for me and I’m hard for you. Then I want to make love to you slowly, with you on my lap and my cock sheathed inside you. You’ll have to undo my shirt buttons, one by one, and peel my jeans off me, and pull down my pouch and take my prick in your hands before lifting yourself up and placing me in between your pussy lips, then sliding down onto me.’

That’s what he meant, because he’d done that before, but he’d only spoken a few words. But this time, Alice had something else in mind.

She sat on his lap with her back to him. She pushed back against Alex to lodge the mound of his crotch firmly against the hole of her bottom and the heat of her sex. He wasn’t yet hard and she wasn’t yet wet, but she wanted his fundamental presence firm against her body. She quite deliberately placed his right hand on her left breast, inside the little cropped top. Her nipple was tight in his palm. Alice arched her back like a bow, turning her face sideways for a kiss.

“Your turn now, my beauty.” He would be beautiful soon, for her eyes, and, she was sure, for his. She reached for the second parcel. Alex shifted slightly on the couch, lodging himself more firmly against her bottom.

“Like riding a horse, Doc?” His whisper was hot in her ear.

“Not quite,” she said, leaning forwards to pick up the second parcel. He squeezed her breast, and began rolling his fingers on her nipple. “Tsss,” she hissed, “that’s…” He pinched her a little bit harder. “Very… good. You’ve got bad hands.” She didn’t move them away.

Turning the second parcel over in her usual careful way, Alice turned to look at his mouth. “I wanted to buy you something. For you to wear, and for me to look at.” She wanted him to guess, and she wanted it to be a surprise. Alex said nothing at first, but she felt a new force behind her, a new intensity in his presence.

“Show me, Alice.” His voice was very soft, she could hardly hear him. Perhaps he was guessing already. She felt a pulse against her bottom.

Alice pulled open the tab on the parcel and delved into the tight sheath. Like her parcel (they were both from the same place, but Alice had deliberately asked for two orders), the inside package was presentation quality, this time in a deeper, richer pink. Alice celebrated; she’d asked for a precise colour, and the boutique, which specialised in this very particular market, had got it exactly right. She’d thought carefully about it, and had selected from the wrapping swatches a colour that exactly matched the inside of her labia when aroused.

“Did you send them a close up, to get that right?” Alex recognised Alice’s colour. “That’s very impressive, your pussy in a parcel.” He ran his finger down her belly, inside the soft sheath of her thong, to find her clitoris.

“No, I didn’t. I checked in the mirror, though, when I saw the options.” Alice took pride in her shopping, and Gretta’s boutique was a marvellous find. You’d never think his finger was circling her clitoris – she said it as if nothing was happening, as if he was writing on air.

Alex shifted slightly, pressing himself upwards against Alice. He removed his wandering finger and undid one of her buttons instead.

Alice thrilled inside. Perhaps he was guessing, after all. Controlling her own eagerness, she extracted the packet from inside the parcel and showed it to him. “See, they’re for long legs. I think I judged the right size.”

The mound against her bottom seemed thicker, a little more solid. She spread herself wider, to make sure. Inside her pussy, she felt her wet heat begin.

“I think you did,” Alex replied. “Show me.”

Alice found the opening seam of the packaging and slowly pulled out a long black sheath of lacy stockings. “There’s a garter belt too.” She couldn’t help herself, she was so eager to see them on him. “Do you like them?” She wanted to make sure that he did.

The way Alex turned her on his lap, there was no doubt at all. He was harder behind her, firm against her bottom. His kiss on her mouth was hungry, with soft lips but a probing tongue. Alice knew she’d chosen well. She began to undo the buttons on his shirt, pressing her hands against his smooth pecs, slowly circling her palms over his nipples, which had tightened into little firm peaks. Alice couldn’t wait any longer. She had to see the stockings on him.

“Go put them on,” she said. “I’ll be here.” She repeated his words from earlier, and got up from his lap.

Alex rose from the lounge and turned to kiss her. He cradled her cheek in his hand, looking at her with affectionate eyes. He took the parcel from Alice’s fingers, which were shaking a little with excitement.

“Do you know, Alice Jane, that I love it when I get presents? Almost as much as delivering my parcels, seeing happy faces.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

“Go on with you, you’re teasing,” she replied. “Making me wait.” She was happy, eager too. “Don’t make me wait too long.” She waved him away with a flutter of her fingers.

Alex smiled his best, crinkling eyes, smile. “I’ll only be…”

He stepped backwards through the bedroom door and disappeared from her view. Five seconds later he popped his head around the door jamb with a silly minstrel grin on his face and jazz hands. Such a silly boy, she loved his games.

“… five minutes.”

Alice laughed. “I’m still here,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere at all,” she added, in a deliberately prim voice. Go anywhere? she thought. Definitely not.

Alex closed the door. Alice sat back down on the lounge, warm from his heat. She snuggled against its comfortable pillows, half reclining. She stretched one leg out along the cushions, the other bent up, resting against the back of the lounge. Alice felt like a decadent Roman empress, or Cleopatra. Someone should bring grapes and fan her with feathers. Spreading her legs exposed her crotch a little, and she felt a sudden coolness.

Alice looked down at herself, and saw that the crotch of her satin thong was darker than the white triangle of cloth over her pubis. How shameless, she thought, I’m wet already… such a naughty girl. She glanced over to the bedroom door, but heard no sound. Alex was still getting undressed. She imagined him sliding those tight jeans down his legs, revealing the black cup of the pouch. She’d watched him undress many times, always amazed at his slim, masculine beauty and the insouciance with which he revealed it. There was nothing coy about Alex, but nothing of the poseur either. He was a man utterly comfortable within himself, confident in himself and who he was.

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