Dream Blonde Delivery
page 3

Chris liked watching her. He knew her routine. Brittany shopped at the supermarket on Mondays and Fridays. He often biked there to watch her push the cart around. She jogged about three days a week, but switched the days around and even sometimes when the sun was setting to avoid the heat. He was very familiar with the route she took jogging.

Chris hurried the several blocks towards the park. He pulled his bike up behind a bench and sat down, breathing heavily, sweat pouring down his face. Gawd damn it was hot, but then Brittany would be all sweaty too and five minutes later when she rounded the corner he saw that he was right.

Chris watched her coming. She was sweaty. She’d tied her hair back to keep it out of her eyes. Her entire body glistened, slick with sweat. Her tank top was soaked. It clung to her fit body like a wet tee shirt. He watched her boobs bouncing each time one foot came down the pathway. She moved like she was in slow motion. The big melons on her chest slapped down on her right as her left foot came down, then they bounced up to the left before falling on her right only to bounce back up to the right. His eyes followed her bouncing boobs as if hypnotized.

Brittany saw him sitting there. She glanced at him, then quickly away, staring straight out in front of her. She moved to the edge of the path to pass him as far away as possible. Chris wondered if she were on to him. She passed him without acknowledging him, but then she never did, even when he used to mow their lawn. His eyes followed her as she passed, but instead of her boobs, he now stared at her ass, bouncing almost as much as her boobs had.

He followed her back home staying a block behind her. His pedaling hampered by another stiffy. Chris was soaked with sweat when he parked his bike in his driveway. He hurried upstairs, tossed off another one while in the shower, pulled his robe on, and collapsed on his bed. He felt like going back to sleep, but then he also felt like looking at some porn. Porn won.

Chris went to poonnet.com and was checking to see what the latest update was when he noticed the “Member Request” notice. As a member of poonnet.com you enjoy exclusive privileges no other site can offer. Just fill out the form below. He finished reading it. The form had a section for target, address, and member request. “Well I fucking know what I want,” he whispered, typing Brittany Stevens name into the first section. He filled out the address and then in the request section typed, “Bitch bound and nude, delivered today.” Chris’s finger moved over and pressed the submit button. “Lets see if they can fulfill that one,” he said with a chuckle. Chris quickly checked out the sites latest update and then set his laptop on his nightstand deciding he would go back to sleep.

Chris had barely closed his eyes when his laptop beeped that he had received an email. He sat up when he saw that it was from poonnet.

Chris opened the email. It read: Congratulations, your special member request has been accepted. At poonnet, membership has it’s privileges. Thank you for being a member of poonnet.com. Would you like to track your order?

Chris snorted. “Yeah, I’d like to track my order,” he said in disbelief. He clicked on yes and submit. He immediately got another email.

The poonbot had been dispatched.

Chris snorted again, shook his head and climbed out of bed. He pulled his robe off, then stepped into a pair of jeans. He was pulling on a white tee shirt when the next email arrived.

The poonbot has arrived at the transfer point.

Chris frowned. He moved over to his window. The old lady that lived next door to him was walking her little rat dog in front of Brittany’s house. A very large man in a black suit carrying a briefcase was walking towards her down the sidewalk. Chris couldn’t make out the man’s features, but he was huge and built like a weightlifter. He looked like he would be very hot in the dark suit. He was also wearing an old fashioned hat like businessmen wore in the 1950’s and 60’s. The man tipped his hat to the old lady who nodded at him. He appeared to have a dark head covering or do-rag under his hat. The man turned and walked towards the Stevens’ front door.

Chris put his eye down on the eyepiece of his telescope. He saw the man’s hand come out and ring the doorbell. The hand was white, huge and beefy. A heavyweight boxer wouldn’t want to get punched by the fist that hand could have made. Brittany opened the door and Chris gasped again. She was barefoot. Appeared to have showered after her morning jog. She’d changed into shorts. This time she had pulled on a halter top that barely contained her big tits and he could see her nipples through the top. No bra on and her tits were as firm as they were when she wore one. “Brittany, you are a fucking wet dream,” growled Chris watching the man tip his hat to Brittany. She looked at him suspiciously until the man produced a business card. She read it, smiled, and stepped aside so that he could enter her house. The door closed behind them.

The poonbot is preparing your package.

Chris read the email and snorted again at the strangeness of the situation. He felt his cock stiffen again as his mind entertained the fantasy that maybe just maybe this was real. His computer notified him that he had received another email.

The poonbot is in route to you with your package.

Chris ran back to the window and looked through the telescope. Brittany’s front door was open and the man in the dark suit was filling the frame. He wasn’t wearing a do-rag, but appeared to have some sort of mask on. The man stepped out of the house. He reached in and took his briefcase out, setting it beside him. The man reached into the house again and this time took out a much larger package. As he turned to shut the Stevens’ front door, the package swung around and Chris could see the form on a bound nude woman hanging from his hand.

Chris gasped and stepped back from his telescope. The man in the dark suit carried his briefcase in his left hand and the nude Brittany Stevens hanging from black leather straps in his right. The old lady was waiting for her dog to finish shitting in Brittany’s yard. She waved at the man in the dark suit as he passed as if there was nothing strange about the situation. The man nodded, his hat covering most of his face. He walked over the sidewalk and down to the street. He waited for two cars to drive past, then crossed the street carrying Brittany as easily as he carried the briefcase. Chris held his breath as the man in the dark suit stepped onto his lawn. His doorbell rang.

The poonbot has delivered your package.


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