“You sure he’s coming?”
I looked over at Carla who sat on the couch across the room, her dark hair pulled into two braids that hung down the front of her chest and grazed the top of the cleavage bursting from her pink tank top.
I opened the app on my phone and looked at the moving dot making its way toward my home. “He’s definitely coming. In more ways than one,” I said suggestively with a wink.
Carla, along with Elaina and Sarah, laughed as I raised my champagne glass and downed the rest in one long gulp.
“Do you think he’ll be… up… for it?” Elaina asked, wiggling her eyebrows as she tucked her short red hair behind her ears. Her navy blue tube top had slid down to only half-cover the strapless bra beneath, a black lacy piece with a rim of silver across the top.
“I can’t imagine why not. I mean, look at us?” Sarah said as she rose from the couch. She did a quick twirl, then sauntered to the kitchen, swaying her butt as she walked, the short jumper she wore barely covering her red cheeky panties.
“Anyone else need more champagne?”
“I do,” I said, raising my empty glass.
As Sarah came back to pour, the doorbell rang.
“It’s time!” I said. I took a long sip of champagne and stood, heading towards the front door.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Carla whispered behind me, and Elaina giggled.
“I just hope he can handle all of us,” Sarah replied.
I paused just before the door and checked my reflection in the mirror. I wore a tank top I usually reserved for sleepwear, since it was so thin I could see my belly button ring through it. I’d sinched the straps on my red bra so tight that I thought I might be able to use my own cleavage as a chin rest if I got tired, and I’d found jean shorts from my college days that barely covered my ass.
The doorbell rang again and I pulled my gaze from the mirror to the shadow behind the frosted glass of the front door. I pulled my shoulders back and licked my lips, then reached forward and pulled open the door.
“Well hello there.”
On the other side of the threshold, an average-height man with medium-brown hair stood, a paper bag in his hands.
“Hello…” he paused and raised the bag in his hands up to his face to look at the receipt stapled to the top. “… Jennifer. I have a package for you.”
Behind me, the girls broke into a fit of whoops and laughter. I glanced back at them and winked, then turned back to the deliveryman, who seemed unfazed.
“I can see that,” I said, glancing down at his pants. “Looks like a big one.”
The man frowned and hefted the bag up and down. “Not too big,” he said.
Guess he’s not going to take the bait that easy.
“Why don’t you bring it inside… I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”
“Tom. But we’re not really supposed to do that…” he started, glancing back at his small four-door Prius parked in the driveway.
“It’s fine. I won’t tell,” I said. I took him by the wrist and led him into the room, then shut the door behind him.
“Okay. Where can I put it?” he asked as he walked down the hall into the living room where my friends were waiting.
Carla sat cross-legged, twirling one of her braids through her fingers. Sarah was licking the rim of her champagne glass, and Elaina had given up all hope that her tube top would defy gravity and had pulled the thing completely off, using it instead to fan her face.
“Looks like a hot one out there,” she said to Tom.
He glanced at his watch. “’Seventy-four degrees’, according to my watch,” he read, looking up with a small smile. He was decently fit, and his jeans hugged his butt nicely.
“You look hotter than that. Maybe you want to take something off,” Carla suggested, still playing with her hair.
Tom looked down at his t-shirt and pants, then looked back at the ladies and shrugged. “Not much to take off I’m afraid.”
Carla’s mouth dropped open and she looked at me quizzically.
Hard to get? I mouthed with a shrug.
“Where can I set your package?” Tom asked again, glancing around the room. To my surprise, his eyes didn’t even pause on Elaina, who was trailing her fingers across the top of her bra along her cleavage.
“You can put it in my box,” Sarah said.
Tom looked at Sarah, then around the room again. “Where is that?”
Maybe a sports metaphor would help, I thought.
“You like golf, Tom?”
“It’s alright I guess,” he said, turning towards me. “Why do you ask?”
“Just thought you might like driving things into holes,” I said. I trailed my hand down my stomach and rested it on the front of my jean shorts, then began fingering the zipper.
“Hmm…” Tom said, furrowing his eyebrows. “I don’t think you would usually drive into the hole, unless you’re quite good. I think generally you have to putt.”
“I give up.” Elaina stopped playing with her cleavage and took a swig of champagne straight from the bottle beside her.
“I imagine a lot of amateur golfers have thought the same thing,” Tom agreed. “Anyway, where can I put your package? I need to mark it ‘delivered’ before I can make my next stop.”
“Just on the table there,” I said, gesturing to the coffee table.
“Great.” Tom set the bag down, then headed back down the hall while I followed. When he made it to the door, he rested his hand on the knob, then turned around. “One thing,” he said, lowering his voice.
I leaned in closely as his breath kissed my ear and a shiver ran down my spine. Maybe he’s not as clueless as I thought.
“What’s that, Tom?” I whispered back.
“I’m not sure if you noticed, but the registration on your car is expired. I noticed the sticker was the wrong color when I parked behind it. That’s a pretty expensive violation if you’re pulled over.”
“Thanks, Tom,” I said.
He nodded, then opened the door and stepped outside, the orange lights on his Prius flashing as he pushed his keys.
“What the fuck was that?” Sarah called from the living room as soon as the door clicked shut.
“Right? Elaina is practically nipples-out and he didn’t even flinch,” Carla added.
“No idea,” I said.
“Alright, I’ll order something. The next guy has got to be way less oblivious,” Sarah said, pulling out her phone.
“Let’s hope,” I said. The app on my phone pinged, asking me to review Tom’s performance.
Technically he did his job, oblivious as he was, I thought, and gave him four stars before shoving my phone into the barely-there pockets of my shorts.
Starting an orgy looks so much easier in porn, I thought, then walked back into the living room.