The Postman of Upper Cockton Pt. 03

[These stand-alone stories are more enjoyable when read in order]

This one came from left field but it is a direct consequence of my job as the postman of Upper Cockton. I'm the collection point for all my neighbours parcels, so vans don't travel our neighbourhood.

I think I mentioned Clive and Barbara, our first couple in Upper Cockton. He is a successful investment banker, and she is a successful investment banker's trophy wife and hostess. All the neighbours get an invitation to their end of summer party, in the big marquee in their garden, as a thank you for any inconvenience caused by their social events.

I had just driven my restored Triumph TR6 around the block for a final check-up, before listing it on an auction site.

Barbara came down the road as I was taking pictures of the car on my drive. Barbara is a very well-preserved fiftyish blonde; always immaculately turned out even when dressed casually, like now in a Guernsey sweater, chinos, and blue loafers. The little things told me she was beyond my pay grade. A diamond ring that would pay for my next three restoration projects. Her Rolex the same. I pretended I hadn't noticed her and continued snapping. Barbara pushed her sun glasses onto her immaculately styled wavy hair and stood hands on hips in mock annoyance. I turned and took three quick pictures of her. By the last, her hostess instinct kicked in and she smiled.

"What are you going to do with my pictures Tom?" She smiled suggestively. There has always been an undercurrent between us.

"I'm going to use them for inspiration Barbara. But I think you know that already."

She liked me to be interested in her, even though we both knew it was a harmless flirtation on both our parts.

"Now you've finally got that car running, I've a favour to ask you on Clive's behalf. His dad had one, and he wouldn't let Clive drive it as a teenager. He was wondering if you would do a swap for the weekend." She stood close and gave me her charming look that had defeated many objections over the years.

"I don't see why not, Barbara. I'll let him have the keys when he drops you off. What would you like to do this weekend?" She flushed as the image went through her head. "I'll throw in my golf clubs to sweeten the deal."

She slapped me playfully on the arm. "Stop it, Tom. The very notion that my husband would pimp me out so he could go racing around the countryside." She looked me in the eye as we shared the fantasy. "So what do you say? He's got this idea of taking me away for a dirty weekend in Brighton. This rakish red sports car is just the sort of vehicle adulterers use, according to Clive. It was good enough for his dad."

Next morning Clive is transferring two overnight bags from his Mercedes E Class saloon into the TR6 boot. "Thanks for this Tom. Barbara told me about your negotiations. What sort of clubs are they?" That earned him a slap from her.

They dressed differently from their usual country casuals weekend attire. Clive in white chinos and Hawaiian shirt. Barbara wore a skinny ribbed tee shirt with a v-neckline showing nice cleavage. Her skirt stopped above the knee. The white stiletto sling backs were definitely not her usual thing.

"Do I look like the sort of woman you'd take to Brighton for a dirty weekend, Tom?" Her make up was different too. Barbara did tarty very well.

"Come on Barbara. Before you get yourself into trouble again. Will you take our picture Tom?" I snapped them standing side by side on his phone. Then Clive stood behind Barbara and lifted her left hand in his towards the camera. I got what they wanted and snapped the tan lines of their missing wedding rings.

Barbara laughed at my reaction. I thought it was not the first time they'd played these games. It was a year before I had confirmation, but that's another story.

I waved them off, wondering what I was going to do with a flashy Mercedes for the weekend, then inspiration hit me.

It was supposed to be my weekend with the girls, but annoyingly Linda had forgotten the dates when she agreed they could sleep over with their friends. I would be the bad guy if I said no. I was going to settle for a trip to the park and lunch with them, but now I could go one better. I made the arrangements and phoned Linda to get the girls dressed up for when I arrived.

I surprised her in a suit when I turned up at Linda's new house. The one she bought when she married the man she'd been having an affair with during my last five years in the army. It annoyed me when the girls appeared in their usual jeans and sweatshirts. Either Linda had not told them or they could not be bothered.

"I can't take you to a posh hotel for afternoon tea and cakes in a fancy car, dressed like that, can I?" My eight- and nine-year-olds scampered back and changed into their Sunday best. After Linda wiped off their clown make up, replacing it with a touch of blush, we were ready to leave.

"You look very nice in your suit Tom. I'm sure the three of you will have a lovely time." Linda was giving me the kitten eyes, angling for an invitation.

"It's my time with the girls Linda. It's been cut short as it is. I want to enjoy it." I said it softly, but it still stung like a slap.

"Off course Tom. Give mum a kiss, girls. You all enjoy yourselves."

In the car, my two passengers whispered. "Mum was begging for Dad to invite her." They both did impressions of Linda's kitten eyes and burst out laughing. "Maybe she should have tried it on Harry so he didn't go to golf with his friend's, again."

I'd never pumped the kids for dirt on Linda and Harry's relationship. It had taken me ages to stop being angry about it, so I didn't want reminders. But now and then, the girls made an offhand comment to suggest all was not well. I didn't want to rock the boat. I enjoyed being a weekend dad. My love life could not cope with anything more complex.

We had a lovely time at a well-known fancy hotel. The girls behaved like young ladies and insisted I took photos of everything and posted them on my Facebook page. There were lots of likes from Linda.

When I took the girls' home, I could not read the expression on Linda's face. She asked if I'd drop them all at their sleepover because her car was playing up. I ended up delivering the three of them and their bags to Linda's friend Sonia. I couldn't stand the woman. She'd lied and covered up for Linda while she and Harry were carrying on behind my back.

Linda had a surprise for me as she shoed them from my car. "The girls have had a wonderful day. Thanks for being understanding about the sleepover. I'll be more careful next time. Will you wait for me, Tom? Give me twenty minutes. Please." I clocked her suggestive smile.

My antenna was up, but I was curious. I had no plans for the evening.

Half an hour later, the door opened and Linda and Sonia were whispering on the doorstep like conspirators, before she came down wearing a dress I'd bought her and high heels. There was a whiff of perfume as she closed the car door. Linda checked her make up in the courtesy mirror and smiled at me.

"I'm a golf widow. You are wearing a suit and driving a posh car. It's too good an opportunity to let slip. You are taking me to dinner Tom."

She looked lovely, but I was miffed. "How do you know I don't have plans?"

"You would not have waited if you did. Take me somewhere nice Tom. But not somewhere local." She read my surprise. "You used to like it when I took charge."

We drove in silence as I considered the cosmic inflection that led to my ex-wife sneaking out of her friend's house for a date with her ex-husband behind the back of her new husband who had been her lover. Even written down, it takes a moment to get your head around. The atmosphere had become sexually charged.

"Has this car got heated seats, Tom?"

"No Linda. You are wet and I'm hard." I ran my hand up her thigh, feeling the edge of her stocking top. Linda moaned. I reached her pussy and, she put her hand on top of mine, trapping it there. I pulled over to avoid a crash. We kissed with more passion than either of us had shown in the last years of our marriage. We broke panting.

"Tom, you are going to make me cum sitting in a car on the high street. Anyone might see us." I stroked her cleft, and put her over the edge. "You bastard Tom." Linda shook as a powerful orgasm rebounded through her body. I held my ex-wife. Anyone interested would just think I was comforting a distressed woman.

Linda looked up. The kitten eyes were back. "That was lovely Tom. I hope I haven't stained anything. Just take me for a drink. I'm too excited to eat."

I headed for a coaching inn out of town. "Linda, can you clear something up for me? Is this adultery and if so, who is the adulterer? Does our previous marriage give us a pass?"

"Shut up Tom. Don't pretend the idea of getting your own back on Harry does not excite you."

"It sounds like you are, too."

We pulled into the dark car park of the country inn, and the cosmic circle was complete.

"Oh god Tom. Harry brought me here when we were married."

I pulled Linda towards me and tugged the bow of her crossover dress, opening it to reveal her pink bra and knickers. "I'm going to fuck you now Linda. Then we are going in that pub for a drink and afterwards you are going to show me where else he fucked you. Do you understand?" She nodded.

We clambered into the back and I set about reclaiming my ex-wife's body. Her tits were in my hand as I sucked her nipples to hardness. I'd always enjoyed her body. The thought of Harry doing it too enraged me. I moved on with my lips. Linda knew what I was doing. `He kissed me here, too.' She held up her armpit, and I kissed the stubble. Her dress was soon off and Linda offered her back to me. She shivered as I kissed her shoulders and moved down. I pulled her knickers off and got her kneeling, one knee on the seat her other foot on the floor. Her pussy opened, and I slid two fingers in and circled her clit with my thumb.

Linda moaned. "This is so sleazy Tom. Married people don't have sex like this. I love it."

I leaned forward and put my tongue to her puckered arse hole. Something we never did when we were married.

"What are you doing? That's so dirty Tom. Oh my god, I'm going to cum with your tongue in my arse."

I wiggled my tongue and with my fingers on her g-spot Linda twitched like they were electrically connected. She pushed my hand out when she could not stand it anymore. She wept with her face buried in the seat and arse in the air before sitting up.

"Hold me, Tom. I'm your wife, for God's sake." She realised her slip, but I held her anyway. "You haven't let your bachelor days go to waste, have you? I bet you are fucking a different woman every night."

"Don't be jealous Linda. I'm sure you could get any woman you wanted."

She pushed me back on the seat and pulled my trousers and pants down. My cock sprang up. She gripped it and weighed my heavy balls with the other hand.

"I've missed this, Tom. I hate myself for it, but I do."

Linda was an accomplished cock sucker. In half a dozen strokes, she'd swallowed me down to my pubes. I remembered the first time she did it. I knew I was going to marry her. Marriages in your early twenties are not based on profound decisions.

She felt my twinge at the same time I did. "You are ready Tom." We knew each other's bodies so well.

I lay her back and lifted her legs. At the last moment, I remembered and slipped her shoes off.

"You used to love it when I kept them on."

"I still do, but a new headlining for a Mercedes is probably very expensive." I slid into her. We both enjoyed the familiar comfort of fucking each other. "I never thought I'd be doing this again Linda. This is fantastic."

"I'd never thought I'd want you so much again. Fuck me, Tom. Fuck me hard. Fuck me for all the times you've loved me and hated me." Linda opened her legs wide. Her feet were on the window and roof of the car. It shook I as I pounded my love and hate and every emotion in between into the woman who used to be my wife. We came together. Something that only happened in our early days of courtship.

Linda wrapped her arms and legs around me. "I love you, Tom. I love you."

I was too stunned to answer, so I just held her until my soft cock slipped out. We took a few minutes to compose ourselves. A pile of used wet wipes from her hand bag littered the floor.

"Listen Tom. What I said--"

"It's ok Linda. Nobody is thinking straight in the middle of an orgasm."

"I know. But I still have feelings for you. And if you could get past your hurt and jealousy, you would admit the same. We were great as lovers but lousy as a married couple. We have two wonderful girls, despite our screw ups. Our marriage worked because you were away. I couldn't cope with you back. "

"But you coped with Harry. Shagging about behind my back and even marrying him. How's that working out for you Linda?"

"The novelty wore off, but me and Harry work on a day-to-day level the way you and I never did. He adores the girls and never disrespects you. They could not ask more of a step-father."

"So what do you want Linda?"

She thought for a long time. "I want the stability of home and the excitement of this. Yes, I want to have my cake and eat it." I sat stunned at her bare faced admission. "Would you rather I trawled hotel bars, picking up strange men?" I got her joke just before she started laughing.

"Let me get this straight. You want to have extramarital sex with you husband, sorry ex-husband?"

"That's right. At least I know he's good. And he's got a big cock. I'm not looking for romance. Just this now and again, when I need it. He doesn't have to make me any promises. I hope I haven't offended you, Tom."

I took her hand and placed it on my cock. "This is yours Linda, in case of emergencies. Let's get that drink, then you've got some places to show me."

#

It was all still running through my head when Clive and Barbara returned the TR6 late Sunday afternoon. They both looked tired, but relaxed. She made a dash for my loo.

"Marvelous therapy that car Tom, but not a daily driver. I'm too used to my creature comforts. How did you like the Mercedes?" I looked around for Barbara's return. "Don't worry about her Tom. She won't pass up a chance to snoop around your place."

I offered Clive a beer from my garage fridge and told him of my encounter with Linda. He actually shook my hand.

"Bloody marvellous, old boy. There aren't many happy ending divorce stories. Mine certainly wasn't. I'm on the straight and narrow now. I could not afford to divorce Barbara. She'd have the shirt off my back. But we make allowances for each other's foibles."

Before he could say any more, Barbara was back. "Did everything pass inspection Barbara? Would you like to complete a visitor's report?"

"What has my husband been saying, Tom? I bed he didn't tell you he checked us into a Travelodge looking shifty and insisting on paying cash. I'm sure he winked at the guy on reception, in case he didn't get it."

"Yes Barbara, and you standing there hand on hip like I'd just picked you up on the seafront."

They both laughed at the memory.

"Sounds like you kids had lots of fun."

"Did you have a nice time, Tom?"

"I'm sure Clive will tell you all about it when you get home." He looked at me and I nodded it was ok. I wanted Barbara to know, so I could see her reaction next, time we met. I watched them drive away in his Mercedes and imagined their conversation. `Tom fucked his ex-wife on the back seat of your car? Why haven't you fucked me on the back seat Clive?'

Life is never dull for the postman of Upper Cockton.