The Postman

byAshson©

I'd like to make a couple of things clear. I'm not a voyeur and neither do I go around taking advantage of young women. The whole thing came about by accident.

I like cameras, and I have a few of them. I also have a nice set of lenses. I own a unit in a block of small stand-a-lone units, we have a friendly body corporate team and things go smoothly.

Now I had this new telescopic lens and I was on the upper floor of my unit, sitting at a window, trying it out. I was just looking around at random, picking things to shoot. A bird, a flower, some bloke on a bike scorching past, anything that took my fancy.

I saw movement in a unit on the far side of our body corporate area and zoomed in on it. The front door to the house was open, and with that lens I could look right inside. I could see the woman of the house in the kitchen. She appeared to be doing the dishes.

Now I had seen this woman before. She was an owner, rather than a tenant, and she was quite attractive. OK, very attractive. Nice figure, petite but shapely bust, nice long hair.

Now I wasn't really perving on this woman, unknown. She was dressed in shorts and top, so it wasn't like I was getting a freebie look at her goodies. I was just testing the camera, as I said.

Now because she was in a place that was relatively dark, compared to outside the house, I used her to take a couple of shots to see how they stacked up. It's always useful to be able to stand in the light and take a decent photo of a shaded area.

Now while I was taking these shots something blocked my view, so I refocused to see what it was. It was the postie. Fair enough. I waited for him to drop his letters and piss off, but he fooled me. He hopped off his bike and walked into the house. I was watching through the lens and he just up and walked in, no knocking or ringing of the bell, no blowing of his whistle, just ride up, park and straight into the house.

I don't know if he called out or not, I was too far away to see, but what I did see was quite fascinating. He just walked straight up behind the woman (let's call her Hannah. I can't just keep on saying the woman.) lifted up her dress and pulled her panties down. All Hannah did was lean forward slightly and brace herself against the sink. Then our friendly postman, very friendly in this case, unzipped his pants, whipped out his old fella and started getting very well acquainted with Hannah.

Now not being a voyeur, I immediately stopped watching and turned to other subjects to shoot. And if you believe that, I've got a bridge I want to sell you. I switched to movie mode and zoomed in closer. It was a not to be missed opportunity to see how well the camera would perform.

When the postie had finished he just zipped up, walked out of the house and took off on his rounds, while Hannah pulled up her panties and continued with the dishes. Good luck to the postie and good luck to Hannah was what I thought.

I forgot about the incident and continued minding my own business, but a few days later when I was taking a walk I was passing Hannah's house when I saw the postie approaching. I just slowed down a little to see what he did. He pulled up, walked up to the house and vanished in-side. I didn't hear him say anything, and though I took my time walking past I didn't hear any noises from the house.

Now, I have to admit, I was curious. Did he just walk in, bonk, and leave without saying a word? I decided to find out. Along with my cameras, I have several nice mikes, useful for a running commentary or for getting live comments from distant players.

Next day at the appropriate time I was sitting upstairs, camera set up and a highly directional and highly sensitive mike pointed at Hannah, who was again washing dishes. I could hear the occasional clatter. Did she do her dishes at that time everyday so she'd be in position for a bonk, I wondered?

Enter the postman. I focused the camera and mike on him and I can just about hear him breathing. He walks into the house, no noise but his footsteps. Now I'm watching him walk up behind Hannah, and I can hear the rustle as he moves her dress and pulls down her panties. Neither of them has said a word.

Then there's the sound of a zip, and I can see him pushing quickly into Hannah, no foreplay, just spread her lips and in she goes, boys. Then he's busy humping away and I notice Hannah moving with him. There's the sound of heavy breathing and sex in action, but not a word was spoken.

Next thing I know the postie is withdrawing and leaving and Hannah is hoisting up her panties and continuing with the dishes, the only difference is that she's now humming as she works.

In the entire time, the two didn't exchange a word, acknowledge each other or look at each other. At least, Hannah didn't look at the postie. The postie couldn't have failed to look and see where he was sticking his dick.

I was mildly amused by the whole thing, and several times since then I've seen the postie stopping by.

Then came the day of the postal strike. I'm sure you all know the one I mean. Those boys had no intention of delivering a single letter that day. Pay cheques could wait, bills wouldn't be paid, Aunt Agatha's postcard could come a day late. They didn't care, they were out.

Now the strike didn't worry me, as I wasn't expecting any mail, but as I was taking a short walk later I found myself approaching Hannah's house, and I noticed the door was open. It seemed that she hadn't heard about the strike and was waiting for the postie.

I don't know what came over me. Sympathy for that poor woman waiting there for the postie who wouldn't come? Lust? I just turned and walked into the house, down to where Hannah was doing the dishes.

I walked up behind her confidently, lifted her dress and pulled down her panties. She didn't flinch or say a word. She just leaned forward slightly and her legs separated a little. I unzipped, parted her lips in the same fashion that the postie seemed to and just steadily drove into her.

Hannah was hot and moist and welcoming. Apparently the anticipation of the daily bonk was enough to get her worked up, and I slid all the way in with no problems. Then it was a case of moving together, Hannah eagerly meeting my thrusts until we both seemed to naturally climax.

I was breathing hard and Hannah was breathing hard, but all I did was withdraw, leave the house and go home.

Nipping up to the bedroom, I zoomed in with the mike active to see what was happening. Hannah was contentedly finishing of the dishes, humming to herself.

Next day I had to see what happened. When the postie came along I was waiting, and in no time flat he was in full bonk mode. There came a tiny change to routine this time when he finished. He gave his apologies for the day before. I heard Hannah tell him not to be silly. "Yesterday was marvellous," she told him. Next thing I know the postie was walking back to his bike, but he had a rather stunned look on his face.

I do hope those two never get around to really talking to each other.

Like I said, I'm not a voyeur and neither do I go around taking advantage of young women. It's just that sometimes, accidents happen.

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