You are Served

To the reader: I wasn't sure where to put this story but since it involves a little consensual sex Erotic Couplings seemed to be the best fit. Remember, this is just a work of fiction. I hope you enjoy it.

Thanks to jo for the great editing, as usual, and for all the helpful suggestions.

Copyright 2012 by the author

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Everybody has a love-hate relationship with their jobs at some point. If you don't believe me then ask yourself how you feel about going to work on Monday morning after a three-day weekend. And I will admit that mine is no different. Most days I love what I do but there are days that I wished I had stayed in bed. I love my job when I can deliver someone news that changes their lives. I hate my job when someone puts a gun in my face and threatens to kill me. You see I'm a process server.

Hopefully not too many of you have met me or someone like me. I'm the guy that goes up to people at the worst time of their lives and asks their name and then hands them an envelope saying "you are served." I'm the guy that serves divorce papers on people. It's not a glamorous job, and it certainly doesn't pay much, but there's never a dull moment. Let me tell you a little bit about what I do.

The company I work for works in conjunction with the county courts and most of the law firms in the area to deliver legal documents to people. I know it sounds like I'm a glorified courier but sometimes it entails more than just handing someone a document and turning tail and running away: Sometimes it takes guile and guts to do what I do. Since I'm the low man on the corporate totem pole, and the youngest at 26, I get to handle the less glamorous deliveries; I get to serve the divorce notices. I do this because they turn out to be least dangerous of what we do, well most of the time at least.

In our county there are several ways that the courts deliver divorce papers: Certified mail with return receipt, the county sheriff, a private process server, or via a friend. Most deliveries take place by certified mail I guess because there are a lot of 'irreconcilable differences' divorces these days. The county sheriff gets involved on request of the person filing or the courts usually because violence by the recipient is anticipated. Friends can deliver the papers and usually it is one spouse taking the papers to the other: These are the more amicable divorces or where someone is too cheap to pay to have them delivered. The ones our company gets are usually where the filing spouse wants to surprise the other or where they just can't face them. We can deliver at any time just about anywhere and a lot of our deliveries are those where the recipient has no clue what's about to happen. I show up at their home or work or at a social function and do my thing. I call those the 'blind-sided deliveries.' Once in a while we have to find the recipient because they've moved without leaving a forwarding address and a few times a year we have to stake out the residence or workplace because they're avoiding the inevitable. I call those the 'runners.' In the four years I've been doing this only one person ever successfully eluded me. That person turned up in Canada using an assumed name. Eventually he was served by a Royal Canadian Mounted Police official. You can run but you can't hide, thanks to the internet.

Over the years I've accumulated a number of stories about my work, some are appropriate for telling to friends at parties or at the local watering hole, but most I'd rather keep to myself. There are two that if I ever told anybody I'd be in a world of trouble. Let me tell you about a typical delivery before I get into the ones I've never told anybody.

Last week I had two deliveries to make, both in the category of blind-sided deliveries and both affected me deeply, each in a different way. The first was for a well known woman in our community. The husband requested that we serve the papers during an evening awards ceremony where the wife was receiving the Woman of the Year award from the local Jaycees. It was an invitation only affair so I dressed as a waiter and blended in with the staff, I even served drinks to several tables while I waited. The husband requested that I serve his soon to be ex-wife while she was making her acceptance speech. I thought that was a bit of dirty pool but I don't get paid to think. During her introduction there was a photo montage of her accomplishments on the video screen over the podium complete with a number of family photos showing her with her husband and two children. The announcer must have said a dozen times how wonderful of a mother and wife this woman was. Little did he or anybody else know what she did in her spare time.

Let me say that I never make a delivery without reviewing the paperwork inside ahead of time. I read everything to make sure I have the correct person and check any other pertinent information that might make my job easier. Sometimes I chuckle at what's going to happen and sometimes I feel bad being the bearer of bad news. Most times there isn't enough information to make a judgment about what this person did or didn't do. In the case of this fine upstanding pillar of our community I knew exactly what she did. Her husband had included a number of extremely graphic 8" X 10" photos with the papers. They showed her on a bed with a man and a woman doing things I've only seen in adult movies. Picture after picture showed the three of them fucking, sucking, kissing, licking, and filling each other's holes with fingers, tongues, cocks, and a number of inanimate objects. The man wasn't her husband; I know I've seen the two of them in the newspapers a number of times. He was a local councilman. The woman was the recipient's sister. I just chuckled looking at the pictures, after rearranging the contents of my pants because as I said the pictures were very explicit.

Anyway, the awards ceremony was to be the highlight of a long career for this woman and I was about to ruin it, big time. After her introduction she started to speak. I put down my tray of glasses and straightened my white waiter's jacket and calmly walked to the front of the room. I stood five feet in front of the podium looking up at her. She looked down at me for a moment confused as to why a waiter was standing there. I didn't say a word until she stopped and gave me an evil look.

"What do you want?" She said in an angry tone with her hand over the microphone.

"Are you Elizabeth Hanson?" I asked calmly.

She looked down at me like I was some kind of an idiot. "Of course I am. Who do you think all of this is for?" she said sweeping her arm from one side of the room to the other to present the throng of adoring fans seated before her.

I took a large manila envelope from my waiter's jacket and held it up to her. She looked at me like I was a nut again but I just stood my ground. About that time two very large men came up behind me and stood there with one hand on each of my shoulders. The woman's curiosity must have gotten the better of her because she reached down and took the envelope. When she did I said simply, and in a somewhat loud voice, "Madam, you are served." I turned and smiled at the two large men behind me and walked between them toward the exit glancing over my shoulder as I went. The crowd was murmuring and talking and pointing at me like I had three heads as I walked past them. Before I got to the door I heard a scream and turned to look. On the stage the woman I just served was kneeling with her hands over her mouth and looking up in horror at the screen over the podium. The slideshow on the screen were the pictures that I saw in the envelope. I don't know how he arranged it but it looks like her husband just outed her in front of everybody who was anybody. I left chuckling with a giant smile on my face.

I read in the paper the next day about the 'eventful Jaycee awards dinner' of the previous night. The woman who I served had her picture at the top of the article about her affair with one of the county councilmen and her sister and her pending divorce. There were none of the explicit pictures of course but it did say that the Jaycees took back their Woman of the Year award. This is one instance where I really loved my job.

Before I tell you about the second delivery I made I want to say that I believe in the sanctity of marriage and that any spouse who cheats on the other deserves every nasty, vile thing hurled their way. I don't care if the husband was banging his secretary at work or if the wife was still seeing an old boyfriend from college, cheating of any sort is just wrong. A completely black and white attitude I know but that's how my parents raised me and that's how I feel. And I'm all for retribution. I'm not sure I believe in revenge where one party is physically hurt or where it affects children, but publishing the offending spouse's exploits on the front page of the local newspaper is okay with me. My father always said, "Don't do anything unless you're willing to have pictures of it on the front page of the Washington Post."

The second delivery was completely the opposite of the first. I reviewed the paperwork as usual before leaving the office but couldn't tell anything about the woman I was serving or the circumstances of the divorce. I was going in blind but better than half of my work is that way. I'm a professional and I'll just do my job and back away slowly afterwards. I remember serving a woman at her office on my first day on the job and I turned to leave when a stapler came whizzing by my ear. I turned and looked back and she was ready to throw a phone at me when I took a left down an aisle and quickened my pace out of the building. Since it was my first day I had another process server watching me and mentoring me during that time. He told me, while he was rolling on the floor laughing, that I had just learned lesson number one, never turn your back on someone you just served. To this day I always back away afterwards or at least look over my shoulder while I'm running.

Sorry, I got a little off track there. Anyway, the second delivery was at a house in the quiet suburbs for a woman named Lucille. It was your average suburban home; white picket fence, kid's toys in the yard, beat up old car in the driveway, the usual stuff. I knocked on the screen door and a young woman came up with a toddler on one hip and her hair in curlers.

"Yes," she said with a soft southern accent.

"Excuse me, but are you Lucille Rogers?"

"Yes, that's me."

"This is for you." I held out the manila envelope.

"What is it?" she asked as she opened the screen door taking the envelope.

I did what I usually did and simply said, "You are served."

"Huh, what is this? I don't understand. My husband's not home right now. I'll give this to him when he get's in."

"Ma'am I think you should read it," I warned. "It's paperwork from your husband suing you for divorce."

I started to back away when I noticed the expression on her face change. It's one I've seen many times before. She didn't have a clue this was coming and now was holding the proof of the utter devastation of her world in her hands. I could almost see the wheels in her mind grinding to a halt not understanding anything anymore. Her eyes were now glossy with tears. All that would come out of her mouth was, "I... I... I..." She leaned against the door jam and shrunk down to a heap on the floor sobbing.

I couldn't do anything for her so I backed away and went out to my car. That's when I heard the scream. I looked back and she was lying prostrate on the sidewalk with her baby in the grass next to her screaming and pounding the concrete. I started to go back and try to do something when I saw a neighbor running toward her. He was alternately looking from me to the woman trying to figure out what happened, and also if I was going to hurt him too. He knelt down and picked up the baby keeping an eye on me the whole time. I got in my car and drove away.

I felt like shit for the rest of the day.

That's the down side of my job, seeing an innocent person go from a normal world to a post-apocalyptic existence in seconds. As I said I'm the low man on the totem pole in my office and my coworkers who have any seniority have had their fill of the heartbreak in delivering divorce papers, both the recipient's and their own. They've all been in my shoes but now I'm the one in the barrel. My boss told me that it affects everybody differently but personally I enjoy watching the detonation of a person's life when they were the one doing the nasty. But I truly hate seeing some innocent person, who did nothing more than love and trust their spouse, getting royally screwed over. That's just who I am. By the way I take in stray puppies and find them a good home too.

I have two stories that I've never told anyone before primarily because if anyone ever found out then I would be out of a job in a heartbeat. What I did was unprofessional and against the rules of my company but I enjoyed the hell out of it. I smile every time I think back on them.

About a year after I started at the company I had to serve papers on the vice president of a bank in the downtown area. She was a powerful woman, smart, beautiful, and headstrong. I made an appointment with her for just before lunch saying I wanted to talk about a business loan and showed up with plenty of time to wait. When she came out of her office my jaw dropped into my lap. She didn't walk but sort of floated over to me with an extended hand and a smile that would bring the dead back to life The grey business suit she wore showed off her amazing body to its best advantage. Full round breasts pushed the white blouse forward just enough to make my mouth water, the skirt was cut just enough above the knees to frame two of the most gorgeous toned legs outside of Radio City Music Hall, and long wavy blond hair cascaded down onto two broad shoulders. An absolute dream was standing in front of me holding out her hand waiting for me to come back to reality. I was not only in lust but very possibly in love.

"Ahem!" She made a noise jolting my mind back to this world.

I stood and looked up into her gorgeous blue eyes and stammered when I said, "Are... Are you Aletheia Robertson?"

"Yes, what can I do for you today?" The smile never leaving her absolutely gorgeous lips as she spoke.

I almost didn't do what I had come to do. I couldn't hurt the future mother of my children. I wanted to marry her and take all the worries in the world away from her and have lots of babies with her. That's what my mind wanted but my body had another idea. I found myself holding out a manila envelope to her.

"What's this?" She said as she took it from me letting her fingertips gently caress the back of my hand. Oh God I wanted this woman.

"You are served," I very quietly and sheepishly mumbled. I quickly diverted my eyes. I didn't want to see the hurt in hers.

After a short pause she simply said, "Thank you." At no time was she ever anything other than she was -- a goddess incarnate. "Please come into my office." I followed behind her like an obedient little puppy without a conscious thought in my head.

"Sharon, please hold my calls for a while," she purred to her secretary as she passed. Once in her office she closed the door and tossed the envelope on her desk. "So the bastard finally made up his mind to divorce me? Well, it wasn't unexpected; after all he's been banging his secretary for the last six months. Oh well, his loss."

She turned and stood with her arms crossed looking out the window blessing me with the view of her magnificent backside. As I looked at the grey skirt bulging out just enough to shadow the shapely thighs below I felt something stirring in my pants. Instantly I was uncomfortable but didn't want this beauty to see me trying to fix the problem and thinking I was playing with myself, not that I didn't need to urgently.

"Yeah, his loss, but your lucky day," she said turning with the life restoring smile again.

"Huh?" I couldn't see anything but that smile.

"Uh what's your name?"

"Bob."

"Well Bob, you look uncomfortable. Here let me help you out there."

Her beautiful hand moved forward and downward to squeeze my now very hard cock. She moved up and down outside my pants as a large explosion went off in my brain.

"Um, nice," she purred. Then she did what I can only describe as a heaven on earth. She leaned forward and put her lips on mine. I was in heaven. But when her tongue found its way into my mouth I was one with God!

She continued to rub and kiss me and I was totally full of electricity.

"What's the matter?" she purred breaking our kiss. "Don't you like me?"

"Oh my God I love you," I blurted out.

Her smile got even more heavenly as she said, "Well then Bob, take your friend out of your pants because I want to kiss him and suck him and make him the happiest guy in the world. Can you do that for me baby? "

I think I broke the sound barrier unzipping, unbuttoning, and pulling my pants down.

"Oh, that's nice," she said as she knelt in front of me looking square at my very aroused penis. She wrapped her hand around it squeezing it ever so gently. The warmth of her breath on the head was intoxicating as she gently moved her hand back and forth, back and forth. Slowly she moved her mouth forward until she had my cock between her ruby red lips. I think I let out a moan but I'm not sure, I wasn't thinking at all. Slowly she started moving her head back and forth all the while running her tongue around the tip, teasing and taunting trying to make me completely insane. I looked down to see the blond hair waving in the air as her head moved and felt something growing deep inside. She sucked me deep into her mouth and looked up at me, her upturned eyes smiling. I don't know how long I was on the edge of the abyss but this woman, no this goddess was taking me to places I've only dreamed about. I watched her beautiful face moving in my lap and knew that at any moment I was going to die.

"I'm... going to... come," I murmured hoping she heard me.

She must have because she started humming and speeding up the tongue barrage. I put my hands on the back of her head and pulled her deep onto my shaft as I let loose with the largest and longest explosion of cum in my life. All she did was swirl her tongue around the shaft as spurt after spurt coated the inside of her mouth. I had met God and he was blond and gave a mean blow job.

It took a while for me to become self aware again but when I did Venus was standing face to face with me wearing her heavenly smile. I don't know how long I was in la-la land but when I looked up into her beautiful blue eyes I felt as though I had peered deep into her soul watching the sparkles in a sea of blue explode all around.

"Um, thank you Bob, you tasted wonderful. Now do me a favor and let yourself out. I've got to get back to work. Oh, and if you should happen to see my asshole husband, I guess soon to be asshole ex-husband, let him know exactly what he's going to be missing."

She turned and went back to her desk leaving me standing there fumbling, trying to get my pants back together. I took one final look at her in all her goddess-like beauty before I left. She already had her head down looking at the divorce papers.

I saw a little knowing smirk on the secretary's face as I hurriedly left the office.

I now have a special place in my memory for Aletheia Robertson. Will I ever see her again? Probably not. Will I ever do more than enjoy her lips surrounding my engorged cock flicking the end wildly with her tongue? Absolutely, in my dreams, every night.

If I did tell someone this story I'm not sure they would believe it anyway and if it ever got back to my boss I'd be looking for a new job in the morning. So you can understand why I just keep this memory to myself and bring it out to enjoy when I'm home in bed alone.