Message-ID: <8092eli$9802041400@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: VoyeurMailman@POBoxes.com (Voyeur Mailman) Subject: Mailmans' Adventures #2 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <34d78101.42111118@news2.microserve.net> Mailman's Adventures #2 by Voyeur Mailman As a PTF substitute, I float around a lot. I rarely see the same route twice in a given month, sometimes even in a year. For a Post Office of our size (over 60 routes ranging from heavy urban to distant rural), this wasn't unusual. No matter how often or how rarely I'd been on a given route, I'd been on all of them at least once in my time here. And every one has it's own situations and circumstances that make it unique. Take, for instance, route 463... mostly urban, with a bit of the suburbs tossed in to round it out. The urban delivery included the high-density, low-income housing projects where most of the poorer blue collars lived. Each apartment building had a cluster box with a slot for every inhabitant, each requiring a key to open. As a strict rule, we weren't allowed to hand out mail directly to someone: we had to put it straight in the box, requiring them to use their keys. Of course, some of the old time regulars let slip on the rules when it came to familiar faces, but not us subs: it could cost us our jobs. The most frequent time I've ever seen having people asking me to give them their mail directly was on check day. There were lots of checks: Social Security, Welfare, Unemployment... the apartment complexes got the most, and it seemed no one ever had their key. More than a few walked away from me, empty handed and grumbling. I was delivering said route once. I was standing before the cluster box in the very last apartment building, dropping the mail into the slots, when I heard one of the apartment doors open behind me. "Hi." she said, even as I turned, "Can I have the mail for apartment 4J? I lost my key and the landlord is late getting me a new one." I'd heard every story in the book, and I had my standard reply on my lips as I caught sight of her. She was one of the young, poor mothers you see more of every day in America. She had long wavy brown hair, a rather pretty if weary looking face, and a nice set of tits that couldn't be hidden by the loose, bulky tee shirt she wore. I paused longer than I expected, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but we're not allowed to hand out the mail directly. You have to use your key." "Our regular mailman does it for me all the time." came the time-wearied and over-used reply they ALL use. "I'm not the regular mailman. It could cost me my job to hand out mail like that." I said, finishing with the mail. All I had left in my hand were the few pieces for 4J... including the check. "Oh, please?" she asked, looking almost pitiful in her pleading. I wondered how much was an act. "To take that kind of risk, it'd have to be very worth my while." I said rather boldly, already putting my job on the line. I expected her to just say 'forget it' and go back inside. But instead, she frowned... then get this look of resignation on her face. Then, quite sooner than I expected, she stepped close to me, put her arms on my shoulders, and gave me a long wet kiss. I returned in kind, my tongue skitting into her mouth. She pulled back after a moment and stared at me, then quite reluctantly led me into her apartment. The furniture was old and worn, and the apartment was quite cluttered. I could hear a baby fussing in a nearby crib. The young mother (whose name was Cathy, as I'd seen on the mail) didn't stop, but walked straight into the bedroom. Dropping her mail into my satchel and ditching that on the floor, I followed. She turned to face me, and with a somewhat unenjoyable look on her face, she raised her arms and pulled off her tee shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts were large and rounded, swollen from breast milk. Just seeing them was beginning to make me erect. I moved over to her, taking her in my arms. She was stiff with resistance, but gave in reluctantly. Leaning over, I placed my mouth over one swollen nipple and inhaled, sucking vehemently on the breast. I heard her inhale suddenly, deeply, then moan softly. She must have been more sensitive than I'd figured, because she began pressing her breast into my mouth. As I sucked, I began unbuckling my trousers, dropping them and my shorts around my knees. My cock sprang free, bouncing up, fully erect. Pulling her closer to me, I let my hands explore her body, her ass, her pussy through the shorts she wore, while she moaned under my hand and mouth assault. Finally, lust overcoming me, I yanked down her shorts and panties, running my fingers along her warm, moist slit. My first finger slid inside, and she shuddered. I lasted only a few minutes before I could wait no longer. Stepping back from her, I turned her around, leaning her against the wall, bent over. Her eyes snapped open as she realized that the time was upon her, that I was actually going to fuck her. "No..." she said foggily, then more firmly, "No, please!" "You want your check, don't you? C'mon... I know you sluts like it." I couldn't believe I was talking like this. Grabbing her ass, I aimed my hardened cock and stabbed it forward. "NO!" she said, then grunted loudly as the head of my cock speared her slit. She was so wet I slid straight to the hilt, with her grunting the whole way. She began to struggle, but I held her tight. Pulling out almost all the way, I again slid back in. Repeating the process, I felt her struggles slowly cease, until she was moaning again. Her lust overcoming her better judgment, she began to grind her ass down onto my cock with every thrust. Reaching around, I grasped her large bouncing breasts and began to gently massage them, tweaking the nipples. Her moans became louder, more animalistic, turning into grunts. Within minutes, she was screaming in pleasure, "Yes.... Yes! Oh, God, yes! Fuck me!!! YES!!!" "I'm gonna fuck you silly, whore." I fired back, pounding my cock into her cunt like a piston, holding her against me with her melon tits. I could feel my orgasm climb, my cock swelling. I held it down, desperately trying to contain it, as I felt her own orgasm thunder up through her body. Her pussy clenched tight around my rod, triggering my own orgasm. Unable to hold it, my cock exploded within her, spurting my wad inside her waiting cunt. "YES!!!! YES!!!! YES!!!!" she cried, riding the wave of her orgasm, slowly dying down until she slid forward, collapsing face down on the bed. A small rivulet of white cum dribbled from her slit, staining the bed sheet. I slowly shook myself as my pecker softened. Glancing at my watch, I realized just how long I'd been in there. Pulling up my briefs, I quickly dressed. "You were fantastic." I said quietly. "I'll leave your mail on the table." "Fuck you, bastard." she mumbled, no doubt more upset at herself than me, for giving in to her lusts the way she did. Shrugging, I grabbed my satchel, left her mail on the rickety old dining room table, then walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind me. The day seemed so much nicer already... -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |