Special Delivery

Postmaster Brad Arnold looked at his watch for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. Only forty-five minutes until he could close the front window and get out of the stifling post office. He had been through more than his usual crap for any day, but for a Friday, it was even worse. The air conditioner had quit just after lunch, the hottest hours of the day, and his small office in the back felt like a sauna.

Sweat was dripping from every pore, screaming to be let free of the confining uniform and tie he was forced to wear. He looked at his watch again. Forty minutes to go. Of course, with the heat and humidity, there hadn't been many customers, and the ones who had braved the heat, only stayed for a minute when they didn't feel the usual relief from the air conditioner. But, the sign on the front window read "Close at Five" and postal regulations dictate that he stay open even if he was the only one left in the entire city.

Thirty minutes. Can time go any slower? To keep his mind off the heat, he began to clean up the counter area. His back was to the front door when he heard it open. Cursing to himself, he went to help the person who would undoubtedly keep him past closing.

"May I help you?" He said automatically, not bothering to look up. He neither wanted to help or even cared. He just wanted to go home and get into a cool shower.

"I need to mail this package." A voice like smooth silk came from behind a large carton. He took the box and placed it on the scale, not bothering to look up. He made the calculations and turned back to the customer.

"Would you like that to go first class or..." He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw the vaguely familiar face which had been previously concealed. In the five years he had been Postmaster of the little small town office, he had come to know just about everyone by name and although he recognized her, he was sure she wasn't a regular, nor a summer resident. He would have definitely remembered every detail about this woman. Her eyes were deep blue, not unlike the color of the lake just outside the office. Her long, flowing red hair appeared to glow even brighter with the sun beaming in from the window. And no one he knew would ever be caught dead wearing a suit in the middle of a hot, humid summer day. He couldn't help but notice the way her blouse clung like a veil against her voluptuous breasts. No one he knew wore clothes like that, Yes, he knew he'd never seen her in his post office before, but something about her was definitely familiar.

"Hello, Brad." She grinned wickedly. "You don't remember me, do you?" She leaned over the counter, fully aware of the view she was revealing. The top two buttons of her shirt were undone and when she leaned over the counter, the rest of them were just barely keeping her from violating several federal regulations.

"You look familiar...." he started, fully aware that the temperature in the office had spiked a few degrees.

"About twenty years ago, I spent a summer working in the post office. My two months of hell between classes at college."

His mind suddenly recalled a scrawny college kid, slumming with the working class for the summer before heading back to Princeton. He hadn't really paid much attention to her, but he did remember how some of the other guys had acted towards a young female in their ranks. And although at the time he had tried to help her, after two months he was not surprised that she'd quit. It was not a pleasant memory.

"Julie? Julie Russell?" How did you end up here?"

"To be honest, I was looking for you. I'd heard you'd gotten promoted and I came all this way to thank you for being a decent person when those other jerks were making a good case for sexual harassment. Want to give me a tour?"

Julie Russell, he thought. If she had looked this good back then, he would have been the first one in line to get called up on charges.

"Sure. I'm closing up in.." he looked at his watch, "...twenty minutes. Plenty of time for a quickie, he thought quick tour."

He opened the side door and she followed him. He pointed out the various areas he thought might interest her, but her attentions were totally focussed on him. They made the rounds in less than five minutes and returned to the front counter.

"Well, that's the whole tour. It's not much, but I call it home."

" Oh, there's a lot more here than you think." She turned to face him. Her eyes sent beams of heat straight to his groin. She bit her bottom lip before she spoke.

"Ya know, I never did thank you properly for your help." She moved closer, her hands finding the belt buckle on his uniform. He didn't move.

"I really didn't do anything..." he stammered, trying to keep one eye on the front door, praying that the minute hand would hit twelve before her hand reached his six.

"Those guys were all jerks..I.." his voice caught in his throat as she unzipped his pants and found what she'd been fishing for. She got down on her knees and backed up so that she was hidden under the counter. Totally hidden from view, she freed his penis from the confines of his uniform, put her mouth around the tip of his cock and began lightly licking.

She heard the front door open and tried to suppress a giggle as her month began to suck gently on his now very erect cock. She was amazed at his calm as she heard him give the customer change. She heard the door close and grabbed the back of his ass forcing him in and out of her mouth, her tongue traveling the length of him, her soft sucking becoming harder and more demanding. He reached behind her head with one hand, taking total control, but never breaking her rhythm.

He glanced at the clock. Ten to five. Fuck the time, he thought as he lowered the window with his free hand. Less than three seconds later, his sweet, thick liquid erupted into her hungry mouth.

She stood up and slowly licked his cum off her fingers.

"Are we alone, now?"

"Totally." He could barely get the word out. She took her finger from her mouth and put it into his. He sucked on it as she had on him. His hands moved to her skirt. He slid a finger up one leg and into her soaked panties. He found her clit, already hard and inviting and deftly rubbed it between his fingers. He heard her moan softly as her breathing became deeper and more erratic. He moved slightly faster, putting two fingers deep inside of her. He felt her shudder as the first small orgasmic wave flooded over his fingers.

"Where do you keep the mail bags?" she gasped.

"In the back, why?"

"I want you to take me in the mail room. That's what all those other guys tried to do, and I never let them. You help keep them away from me, so now you're getting your reward."

He led her into the back room. She took one of the bags of mail, opened it, and tossed the contents onto the floor. She did the same to two other bags until there was a mattress of letters, postcards and magazines.

"Whatever you want." She whispered in his ear, as she pulled off her panties and skirt and lay back on the pile of mail. She was wet and waiting as he entered her easily. She tossed off her shirt, her nipples hard and inviting. His mouth sucked on one while his fingers played with the other. A small scream escaped her throat as she moved her hips against him, forcing him deeper inside her. He felt her muscles contract around him, threatening to eject him from the warmth of her dark heaven. He took control, forcing her to slow the rhythm, to make the pleasure last. He watched her eyes, daring, challenging, begging him for the ultimate release that he knew she wanted, but he was determined to take her in his own way and his own time.

"You are a bastard." She whispered. He responded by quickening the pace. She met him each time by pulling him deeper inside of her. She wrapped her legs around his back and lifted her hips to meet his. He responded by wrapping his arms around her and increased the intensity. He felt her orgasmic juices flood over him and onto the mail. He held his own orgasm until he felt her body trembling with pleasure. When he came, she grabbed him with the strength of her own ecstasy until they both totally soaked the papers that lay beneath them.

"Someone is going to have a hard time reading their mail." She grinned wickedly.

"Hey, blame it on the weather. Maybe now, they'll fix the damn air conditioner!" He smiled back at her, knowing he would have some explaining to do the next day, and not caring one tiny bit.

She got up on shaky legs and began getting dressed.

"I've waited twenty years for that."

"Was it worth it?" He thought he already knew the answer, but she surprised him.

"I'll let ya know." She gave him a mysterious grin, kissed him lightly on the cheek and disappeared out the back door.

Three weeks later, a brand new central air conditioning system was installed in Postmaster Brad Arnold's office courtesy of the United States Postal Service. That same day, he also received a large envelope stamped with the official seal of the Postmaster General, Washington, D.C. Inside was a certificate that read: Special Accommodation for Outstanding Service is Hereby Presented to Postmaster Brad Arnold for Exemplary Service in his duties as Postmaster for the United States Postal Service.

The accompanying letter also congratulated Brad on achieving the highest rating in the nation for customer service; 99.5, only a half point short of a perfect score. The letter was signed by the Postmaster General and co-signed by the Vice-President of US Postal Customer Relations: Julie Russell. Stuck to the bottom of the letter was a little hot pink post-it note on which was written in a very delicate handwriting: Next time, don't close before five. JR.