My vehicle had plenty of room to accommodate the package sizes. It would give me flexibility to give us the fun we needed in our family budget, but also a schedule that would be flexible enough to be more of an at-home dad. So, I applied…I was accepted…I trained…three weeks ago, I made my first day of deliveries…The Story Begins:It was a Wednesday…my first actual delivery found me taking groceries to a house in an upscale neighborhood, much like my own. The wife was at home and the squeals of kids echoed inside the house. She was a hot mess. Looked mid-twenties for age. Probably 5’1”, her dirty blonde hair barely pulled back into a ponytail, reaching just past her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes were locked on mine as she shifted her hips and looked up at me, waiting for me to introduce myself. My head shaking to regain my composure. “Sorry, I’m Jay, with your grocery delivery, would you like me to carry these into the kitchen for you?” “Wow…yeah, that would be wonderful, Jay…I’m. “But it's sad if you think about it. You want some dick, you should get some dick. Can't be going through life scared to be who you are.” The side-eye I aimed his way was off the scale, but he didn't notice. “Yeah,” I said. “That is, in fact, pretty sad. People scared to be who they are.” “Hey,” he said, “next time you get a hard-on you should do that again. Motherfucker's head might explode.” “Or his cock,” I said, miming an exaggerated orgasm. Sam laughed so hard he had to sit down. “So,” I said. “That's not too far? Waving my boner in a repressed dude's face from two feet away? Be funny to me, sure, but we might be inching up on a line, here.” “Fuck 'em,” Sam said. “You've offered to get dressed like five times. Me too. He's makin' the world a little nastier with his homophobic bullshit. Every time he says faggot he earns the worst we can do. Seein' a naked dude up close a lot more likely to make him better than worse.” “All right,” I said. “You know I'll do it. Just want.
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