Mia's Obsessed UPS Driver

Mia stood in the center of her sunlit living room, heart hammering against her ribs. The tight pink slip clung to her smooth body like a second skin, the hem barely covering the tops of her sheer black thigh-high stockings. The delicate lace garters bit gently into her thighs, holding the nylon taut. Beneath the slip, her heavy cock strained against a tiny lace thong, the thick shaft already half-hard and creating an obscene bulge that she made no effort to hide. She had been waiting for this delivery all morning.

Jake had been her regular UPS driver for six months. The first time he saw her dressed like this he had frozen in her doorway, eyes dropping immediately to her long legs wrapped in glossy black nylon. He hadn’t said a word, but the way his gaze kept flicking back to the heavy outline of her cock under her skirt had told Mia everything. Every delivery since had grown more charged. He lingered longer. His voice grew rougher. She had started ordering packages almost weekly just to watch the big, muscular man fight not to stare at her stocking-clad thighs and the thick meat swinging between them.

Today she had ordered the most expensive pair of sheer seamed stockings she could find. The box was due at eleven. It was ten fifty-eight.

The knock came exactly on time.

Mia took a slow, deliberate breath, smoothed her slip, and opened the door.

Jake filled the frame. Six-foot-three, broad shoulders stretching his brown UPS shirt, thick forearms corded with muscle. His eyes—normally professional—immediately dropped to her legs. The sheer black nylon shimmered in the morning light, the reinforced toes gleaming. His gaze traveled up to the garter straps framing her smooth upper thighs, then locked on the unmistakable bulge pushing out the front of her pink slip.

“Morning, Mia,” he said, voice already husky. He held out the package.

She took it with a sweet smile, fingers brushing his. Then, deliberately, she let the box slip from her manicured hand.

It hit the floor with a soft thud.

“Oh no,” she purred, turning slowly and bending at the waist.

The pink slip rode up. Her round, smooth ass, perfectly framed by the black garter belt and the sheer nylon stretched tight across both cheeks, was suddenly inches from Jake’s face. The heavy sack and thick shaft of her cock strained visibly against the lace thong, the fabric so fine that the flushed head of her dick was clearly outlined, already leaking a wet spot into the lace.