Signatures can be signed like THIS!?

Why did this plot seem so.... familiar?

Peachy, plump, ass. Check. Wearing little or nothing at all. Check. All it needed now was a weak ass delivery line, willing actors, and the scene would be set.

Well it was all laid out for him now. Literally. Looks like the show had to go on.

"A-herm!", coughing slightly, Robert tried to steer his focus away from her supple curves as he got her attention. His not so subtle move, looked to have startled the UPS lady.

"O-oh! Sorry about t-hat. Long morning and all. You know, what with delivering all these BIG, LOOONG,PACK-AGES."

'Huh, why did this sound exactly like a line from one of his pornos?'

Gulping back the saliva that had seeped out the side of his mouth, he watched as the woman rose to an upright position. Robert felt his spent cock twitch a little as she turned around. In what he could only call, Baywatch slow-mo. Well, at least to him, that is.

Like a snake trapped in a oiled tarp, Robert's cock wriggled and throbbed with the need to escape, messing the front of his clothing in a damp patch. The scantily, clad, buxom UPS woman gave him a knowing smile as she presented the parcel and a keypad to sign.

"Excuse me sir? I need you to sign, if you want your package, that is." With a hint of seductiveness, but mostly business as usual attitude, the woman waited for a response.

Just as he imagined, the front looked just as picture-esc as the back. Dark brunette hair, framed in a short Valkyrie bob, accentuated her hazel eyes, that brought out her button nose above what could only be called bee sting lips. It gave her an almost bimbo-like look. And with that head. It all to well, complimented her outrageous hour glass figure. Not to mention, she was wearing a barely-there bikini, with the logo's, 'UPS', tagged onto the cups, which hardly covered her melon sized tits and the flimsy triangle at her lips. Just the image alone made him nearly cum his pants right there.

Embarrassed to caught staring at her tits, Robert blurted out hastily. " Ss-sign your tits...?" Finally looking at her face, he realised just what he had said. "...Err. Fuck. Sorry, sorry. Where do I sign?" Putting on a helpless expression, he waited for the inevitable response.

Closing his eyes and waiting for the screams of 'pervert' and 'help', Robert heard the sound of the parcel being placed near him and a weird thud sound. It almost sounded like flesh making contact with wooden board's, but how was that possible..... *Clink,clink* Just when he was still figuring out what was going on, he felt the front buckle of his belt being undone.

"W-hat a-are you...DOING!?", Eyes snapping open, Robert yelled out in surprise, grabbing the cuffs of his buckles, and incidentally grabbing her hands in the process. The softness of her hands left him surprised, almost like they were going to melt from his touch. Wonder what they would feel like around his cock? Fuck! What was he still holding her hands and fantasizing here for?

"Sir. Would you prefer manually signing yourself?" She looked confused from his odd display, almost like it never happened to her. Nevertheless, not one to judge, she brang the signing device into view so he could reach it.

Gently letting go of her hands, Robert looked towards the signing device that was wrapped around her forearm. A dry crusty white stain was where the touch pad used to be. It even had a shallow indentation. Could that be where the male deposits are made?And is that retractable dildo at the bottom supposed to be for female customers? Talk about getting up close and personal.