Delivery!

John was considering watching a movie, maybe a loud stupid action film, the kind his family always end up talking through, when a knock at the door interrupts his train of though.

"Who could that be?" he thought to himself, hurrying to answer before whoever it was hammered his door down.

He's startled to find the source of the racket was a petite blonde wearing what appeared to be a sexy delivery driver Halloween costume. At least he assumed it was a costume, no real delivery company would allow their drivers to wear such indecently short shorts or shirts that showed quite so much cleavage.

"Mr Smith?" the girl asked in a warm husky voice, "Mr John Smith?"

John blinked, realising, too late, that he'd been staring.

"Delivery for you, Mr Smith." the girl continued, indicating the large cardboard box that John had failed to notice while he'd been gawking at her.

"I. er, ahem," John coughed struggling to drag his thoughts up out of the gutter, "I mean, yes I'm John Smith, but I'm not expecting a delivery. Are you sure you have the right Mr Smith? There are a few of us around, you know."

The girl met his weak attempt at humour with a dazzling smile, it surely didn't deserve, before carefully double-checking her clipboard.

"No mistake," she confirmed in that honeyed voice, "this is the right address and your date of birth is..."

She rattled off a list of identifying information that a delivery company certainly shouldn't have, but any concerns about data security he might have had were vaporised be another of those brilliant smiles.

"I just need your signature and..." he used the proffered Biro to make his mark as instructed, and she beamed once more, "Prefect! You have a very nice day, Mr Smith."

She turned and swayed down the path back to her van, leaving him with a mysterious box and a very uncomfortable erection...