Postman

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He believed in providing service.
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Ashson
Ashson
8,555 Followers

My sweet loving husband arrived home from the pub and he was in a foul mood. Fair enough. If he wants to be in a foul mood he's allowed to be I guess, but I sure wasn't going to have him taking his mood out on me. After the third or fourth little dig I had a go at him.

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" I snapped. "Whatever it is, unless it directly concerns me, don't take it out on me."

"It's Jacko. He was down at the pub boasting he's slept with every single woman in our street."

"Might I point out that there aren't many single women on this street? Most of us are married. Who's Jacko, anyway?"

"Jacko! You know Jacko!"

"If you say so," I said giving him a dubious look.

"He's the frigging postman. How could you not know him?"

"Oh, Postie. Of course I know him. Everyone does. Never stops talking and always says hullo to everyone. I just never knew what his name was."

"Well," Phil said in a very demanding voice.

"Well what?" I demanded in turn.

"Have you slept with him or not?"

I gave Phil the evil eye.

"Who I may, or may not, have slept with before I met you is none of your business. We agreed when we got engaged that we wouldn't discuss past lovers. Of course, if you want to change that now there are a few questions I'd like to ask regarding your relationship with my little sister before we started dating."

He almost crashed into himself he changed the subject so fast. Then he departed to go and watch the tellie while I went about making dinner. What he didn't know was that I knew my little sister and one of the things I knew was that she was a bit of a tramp, sleeping with all her boyfriends, and Phil had been no exception.

While I prepared dinner I thought about Postie and when I got to really know him. I'd run out of eggs and instead of running down the street to get some I decided to borrow a couple off Jan. I went next door and strolled up the path to Jan's front veranda. A veranda, I will note, that is basically hidden from the street by some large bushes in front of it.

I came to an abrupt halt just before I stepped onto the veranda. From where I was I could see both Jan and Postie. Jan was bent over the small veranda table, her skirt hitched up around her waist and her panties tangled around one ankle. Postie's trousers were around his ankles and his hairy bottom was on display. (Not a bad bottom for a man, I had to admit.)

What was also on display from where I stood was his erection, and again I had to admit it wasn't a bad one. Okay, quite a good one, long and fat and at the current moment very busy, sliding in and out of Jan with great fervour.

After I got over the initial shock of that I also noticed that Jan's top and bra were pushed up, freeing her breasts. Not that they'd stayed free. Postie's hands had captured then and he was massaging them in time to his thrusting cock.

He was also talking softly to Jan as he fucked her, his voice going on and on, not even slowing down or changing when he turned his head to look at me. If it wasn't for the fact that he winked at me I'd have thought he hadn't seen me. Jan certainly didn't, continuing to bounce her bottom up and down and making soft little sounds in most eager tones.

I was too stunned to do anything so I finished up standing there and watching like a gawk as Postie paid his attentions to my friend. My married friend. His cock would pull right back until I thought it would pop free, then he'd stop and go charging back in, thrusting home for all he was worth.

It suddenly dawned on me that Postie had reacted to my presence. He'd changed position slightly. Not by much and I doubted that Jan even realised, but he had, and for only one purpose as far as I could tell. It was simply to give me a better view of his cock plunging home. What a narcissistic bastard!

About then something else dawned on me. I was still standing there watching. If I was still there when they finished off Jan would be horribly embarrassed. So would I for that matter. I beat a swift and silent retreat. I'd get the eggs down the street after all, I decided.

Once I was home and engaged in my baking I forgot all about Postie and Jan. Maybe not forgot but I certainly put it out of my mind. True, Phil may have got lucky that night but I certainly wasn't wondering about Postie at the time. Not at all.

A couple of days later the door-bell rang and when I opened the door Postie was standing there, a big smile on his face. It wasn't my fault that a picture of him with Jan popped into my mind. I could feel my nipples reacting, and I was blushing. I was blushing even more when my eyes dropped for a moment and I saw the distinctive bulge in his trousers.

"Hi, Nicki," he said breezily. "I thought I'd hand deliver your mail today."

He held out a couple of letters and I automatically took them, dropping them onto the side table next to the door.

"I've been think of you ever since I saw you the other day," he said chattily, "wondering when I could have you in a similar position to Jan's. I've decided that today's the day."

I said, "What?" feeling sure I'd misheard what he said.

"That's right," he continued, still just as cheery. "I've been anticipating this moment all day. Feel for yourself how much I've been anticipating it."

With that he casually took my hand and plastered it against his groin, with my hand automatically closing around him through his trousers. My god, but he felt enormous.

"Now don't you worry about a thing," he said. "Just turn around and lean against the wall. That's a girl."

Again acting in a very casual manner he turned me to face the wall and pushed me towards it. I naturally put my hands up to stop myself face-planting into the wall. This resulted in me leaning up against the wall, bending forward slightly.

"We'll just take these down before you move your legs a little further apart," he murmured, and to my horror I could feel my skirt and panties sliding down, leaving my bottom on display.

"That's the idea," he said. "Now just lift one of your feet free so you have more room."

I didn't have to lift a foot free as he was tugging one up, pushing my skirt and panties free of it as soon as it was lifted. He stood up again and his hand was between my legs, rubbing against my pussy.

"Bend forward just a little more and spread your legs a bit. We wouldn't want to be crowded would we?"

"But, but," I managed to get out.

"Oh, don't worry about it," he said, without specifying what it was. "It'll be fine."

"But, but," I said again, although I'm not sure what else I wanted to say. My mind was too busy distracting me with pictures of his cock sliding into Jan. And now he was going to do it to me.

"Oh, of course," he said, usurping my thoughts and replacing them with his own. "You'll want your top lifted, won't you?"

Whether I did or not didn't seem to matter as he dragged it up, unclipping my bra and lifting it higher as well, and now it was my breasts that were swinging free.

He'd managed to drop his trousers at some stage as his erection was now resting between my legs and he was slowly rubbing the length of it back and forth along my lips, and he was still talking, now telling me how alive I felt.

"I think you're about ready, don't you?" he said, but he didn't bother giving me a chance to answer. "Why don't we see how this goes?"

What this was was him spreading my lips apart and pressing his cock into place. He was pushing down my passage quite firmly and I didn't have a chance to say yes, no, or are-you-insane.

"Oh, yes, you are so sweet," he said, driving fully into me. "Women are wonderful creatures and you're one of the most wonderful. You feel fantastic. Others must look at you and envy your natural abilities."

From where I was standing I'd say he had some pretty fantastic natural ability of his own. He was thrusting into me in a most telling way and what his cock was telling me was it was fun time. I could feel every inch of it as it thrust in and when it dragged its way back out. He felt hard and hot and very, very big, filling me with cock and pleasure at the same time.

I now knew why Jan had been giving out with those eager little cries while he fucked her because I could hear myself doing the same thing. His hands were clutching my breasts, squeezing them and rubbing them, teasing my nipples as he thrust into me time and again.

There is no time at a moment like this, just an ever present now, his cock controlling my awareness. He thrust away, happy and eager, and I bounced to meet him, my arousal expanding by leaps and bounds.

I could sense when he was about to have an orgasm as he started thrusting in harder and faster, losing control of himself. Then he was jerking about spasmodically, spraying deep inside me, and I was yowling like a cat, my own climax sweeping through me.

He disengaged and was pulling his trousers up while I just leaned against the wall, feeling a bit bemused.

"Can't stay, no matter how delicious you are," he said. "I really need to get this mail delivered."

With that he was gone, leaving me to try to sort out what the fuck had just happened. Not that I was displeased or disappointed. It had been a magical moment, even if it was one I wouldn't repeat.

As far as Phil was concerned, I wasn't going to discuss any lovers I had before I met him. I most certainly wasn't going to discuss any lovers I had after we were married.

Ashson
Ashson
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AnonymousAnonymous5 days ago

I give a shit

Not long after I was married, I said to my wife do you notice the men looking at you when we go out.

She said I notice them when I go shopping or meet up with my friends for coffee, especially the older men looking at my tits and ass. Why she asked just wondering what you think about it. To be honest she said it's nice too know other men want to fuck me especially older men and started laughing.

Later that night she asked me, would you mind if another man fucks me.

I answered no noy a all as long as you wanted it and you told me about it,you are a sexy woman any man would want to fuck you. Who would you like me to fuck she asked. Without thinking I said old pat next door would like to see him fuck you he always tells me how lucky I am having a wonderful sexy wife. Really she said, he says that and you are willing to let him fuck me. Yes I said only if you want. You invite him for drinks and I'll make sure I have something nice on so he gets a good look down my top, and he gets a good look at my ass when I bend over in front of him.

Following Friday evening John comes over for drinks. Ann had on a short summer dress, leaving open the top few buttons and now bra or knickers on after Ann gave him a good look at her tits and ass I asked him if he would like to fuck Ann, looking at me unsure what to say I said its ok I would love to see you hammer her doggy style he said yes yes I would love to fuck her.

Ann came back into the room and I told her John said he would like to fuck you tonight.

Ann got between his legs open his fly took out his cock and started sucking him as he was fucking her doggy he said she is a good slut wife. Asking Ann he said will you be my married slut wife. Ann said with a smile yes I am your married slut wife anytime you want me. He looked at me and asked if he could bring his slut home for the night. Both Ann and I said yes together. They had a great night and meny more after that night.

I really get turn on watching older men kissing and feeling my wife before they start fucking.

WhoGivesAShitWhoGivesAShitover 3 years ago

Huge hole: how can the husband not catch the ‘before we were engaged’? Most likely, they didn’t live where they are, until they were engaged or married. He’s an idiot, she’s a cheater, and idea that people are that stupid, makes it a story that I won’t score.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 4 years ago
Through Rain, Snow, Sleet and Hail, Posite Delivers!

This was a fun, erotic piece of short fiction that both my wife and I enjoyed. Just like Postie working over Jan, it was welcomed, quick, well done, and pleasurable for all. My wife admired and I abhorred Postie’s ability to seduce women and get them to enjoy it.

However, as my wife pointed out, “Some men are simply extremely good cocksmen. You husbands should even admire their abilities in cocking us wives.” I ruefully agreed, “However, its best for all if they don’t go around blabbing about it!”

In the run up to our engagement, my wife’s mother had a serious talk with her about “how sex really works”. It was quite different than the church or romantic versions that are prevalent in our society. At the time, her mother was a cute 40-year old that still turned heads. She shocked my 20-year old fiancé with her advice – all of which was reality based.

She said, “Before you agree to marry Jeffrey, you must negotiate sex. Tell him he has to be faithful, but that you have free hall passes!” She continued, “You simply tell him that, because you are so beautiful and desirable, it’s obvious you will be hit on by a lot. Given all this male attention, you will certainly need to blow off some steam from time to time!”

Concluding, she said, “If I know Jefferey, he will grouse about it, but then agree to let you have all the stray cock you want!” She said, “When he approves of this precondition to marriage, say ‘Thanks honey, you know it’s not my fault that I’m so damn sexy that every man has to have me!’’”

My fiancé was speechless, so her mother explained, “Husbands need to be proud and confident of their wives’ sex appeal. There is no better proof of a wife being sexy, than when other men bed her. Husbands need to feel they have to compete for your affections. That is the only way they will pamper and respect you.”

My fiancé finally found her voice, “But mother, how will he respect and pamper me if I’m a slut?” Her mother firmly replied, “Being a slut is the only way he’ll respect you! Ever since your Dad and I married, 20 years ago, he has showered me with affection, respect, and love!”

Flabbergasted, my fiancé blurted out, “Gosh mom; how big of a married slut have you been?” Without hesitation Mom responded, “Well, I’ve always had lovers on the side. Or, if not, I need one-off, quickies with a few different strangers each month!”

My wife grasped the situation, “Well, Mom, if spreading my married legs for other men is the way to be respected and loved, I guess I’ll just have to do it!” She blushed and laughed. Her Mom said, “That’s my slut girl!” Then, she spent several hours explaining what worked, and did not work, when dealing with extramarital lovers. To this day, my mother-in-law is my wife’s closest confidant.

Needless to say, I spoil my wife a lot, an awful lot! One day, I even saw the mailman’s van parked in front of our house; so, I just kept on driving. I didn’t want to interrupt them while he was “post marking” my young wife!

Without ever broaching the subject directly, my father-in-law has told me, “Its great the way you respect and pamper my daughter. I do the same for her mother and it’s led to happy marriage!” He didn’t “wink, wink”, but we both understood the coded message. And, yes, our wives are very, very contented!

A side benefit is, that much like wife Scheherazade in “One Thousand and One Nights” (Arabian Nights), my wife keeps me excited with tales of her sexcapades with other more potent, more virile, and more well-endowed men like Postie.

Its juicy, its hot, and its dirty when wives “put out” for other men. And, most females of any species need to be cocked by the top rooster, even if he is a low life mailman, er, “maleman”.

Again, we thank you for the story!

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 4 years ago
I was a mailman

...for 26 years, and believe me when I say mailmen get tons of married pussy. My wife used to think I was tired at the end of the days from walking my route. What tired me out was usually one, two maybe even four fucks I would have every day. I delivered to over 400 houses a day and there was hardly a day that went by that I wasn't invited in for a drink.....which usually was by a housewife in a robe or lingerie. Honestly after my first summer on the job I thought that I should be paying them to let me work there. When I transferred to a driving route, I thought my pussy filled days were over. If anything it got better. Women in the rural areas tended to be even lonelier and I would often find notes in the mailboxes to come up yo the house. Now I am retired but I smile every day when I see our carrier (a cute woman by the way) drop off our mail.

Schwanze1Schwanze1almost 4 years ago
Huh?

You lose a bet or what?

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