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LINKS
HOT LINKS     |
18/03/2016
Several years back I was using the home office of some friends across the street. They both worked, and the quiet of their home office enabled me to be much more productive than in my own home office where my wife and kids were constantly in and out that summer.
I never realized how much merchandise they got delivered to their home until then. 2 or 3 times a week, there was a UPS delivery. I would hear the knock, but being busy, would not go to the door and just let the delivery person leave the stuff on the porch.
That is, until I looked out the window one day and saw that the delivery person was a tall blonde woman with big tits and long legs. I got my bony ass to the door in a hurry!
In her late 20s or early 30s, she had a "hard-living" face that was nevertheless kind of pretty, and was wearing the UPS summer uniform of short-sleeve shirt and shorts. The shorts certainly showed her magnificent, long and muscular legs nicely, and it being about 104 outside, she had perspired through the brown shirt, through which her football-size boobs, in an apparently thin bra, printed quite visibly.
She was very friendly, and we got to chit-chatting about the oppressive Texas heat, so I invited her into the cool house and got her some ice water. She downed it fast, and I went back into the kitchen to get her another glass. The ice maker was jammed, so it took me a few minutes to get it in order. When I returned, she was facing away looking out over the back deck, had unbuttoned the shirt, pulled the tail out, and was flapping the front of the shirt back and forth to cool off.
Well, I thought that was a bit bold, but she was facing away from me, so I could not see anything. I cleared my throat so she'd know I was back, expecting her to button up. Instead, she casually turned around and took the water from my hand. I could now see her breasts clearly through the see-through material of her bra, and the A/C had peaked her nips up to hard points. Damn!
Then, just as she had asked for another glass of water, she said her clothes were uncomfortably soaked with sweat, and would I mind if she let them dry in the sun on the back deck.
In fact, I DID mind, as my wife and kids were home directly across the street and could pop over, my friends who owned the house could come home for lunch, and the neighbors on either side might see her out there.
But I nevertheless must have said something along the lines of "OK," for she walked out on the deck, sat on the bench, removed the shirt, and hung it on the back of the lounge. She then undid the fastener that held her hair in a ponytail, and shook out her long, natural blonde hair.
As that were not enough, she then stood up and wiggled the shorts off over her boots, draped them on another chair, and came back in.
Wow! What a fantastic body she had! Those big football tits, tiny waist, curvy, slim hips, mile-long legs, and, like her bra, the see-through material of her panties left no doubt that her pubes were shaved into a perfect heart shape.
She sat down on the edge of the leather den couch with her water in one hand like nobody's business and somehow got onto the subject of her husband, who was also a UPS driver and how unfortunate it was they were always working during the time of day they were horniest--lunchtime.
Well, thanks for sharing, and what a coincidence. It was lunchtime. My thick gold wedding ring was in plain view, but obviously that was not an issue, as she mentioned that her hubby enjoyed the "fringe benefits" of mostly only "lonely housewives" being home when he made deliveries and how "delighted" she was to find the rare male at home alone. I, of course, never told her that I was merely a guest at this house and actually lived across the street.
Well, I did not fool around on my wife, and having this aggressive near-naked horny woman thinking she was going to "cook" this "rare male" for lunch was making me increasingly nervous.
Her uniform dried fast, so I retrieved it and asked her to quickly put it back on as I looked at my watch and exclaimed, "Oh my, look what time it is!" and lied that my wife would be coming home for lunch any moment. She got with the program in a hurry and left with the parting words, "We'll pick up where we left off another day."
For the rest of the summer, I never answered the door again, though sometimes the knocking would continue for ten minutes.
I moved back to my own home office when school resumed in the fall. One day, she made a delivery across the street when my buddy, the homeowner who'd lent me his home office, happened to be off from work at home and answered the door.
He was a psychologist and extremely perceptive. Short, ten years older, and with a heavy beard, he looks nothing like me. He told me this good-looking blonde UPS driver's face nearly dropped on the porch when he opened the door as she questioned who he was, how long he'd lived there, who else lived there, etc., etc., etc.
He said he gathered she was expecting someone else. It was only then that I told him the story of her previous delivery that summer when I'd used their home office. He got a huge charge out of that and then fully understood her peculiar behavior when he answered the door.
I would occasionally see her zooming down the street in the distance, blonde hair flying in the breeze, but would hastily duck behind a bush or behind my car or something so avoid running into her again.
How come stuff like that never happens now that I'm divorced?
I often think of her when I hear UPS' new byline, "What can Brown do for you?"
I never realized how much merchandise they got delivered to their home until then. 2 or 3 times a week, there was a UPS delivery. I would hear the knock, but being busy, would not go to the door and just let the delivery person leave the stuff on the porch.
That is, until I looked out the window one day and saw that the delivery person was a tall blonde woman with big tits and long legs. I got my bony ass to the door in a hurry!
In her late 20s or early 30s, she had a "hard-living" face that was nevertheless kind of pretty, and was wearing the UPS summer uniform of short-sleeve shirt and shorts. The shorts certainly showed her magnificent, long and muscular legs nicely, and it being about 104 outside, she had perspired through the brown shirt, through which her football-size boobs, in an apparently thin bra, printed quite visibly.
She was very friendly, and we got to chit-chatting about the oppressive Texas heat, so I invited her into the cool house and got her some ice water. She downed it fast, and I went back into the kitchen to get her another glass. The ice maker was jammed, so it took me a few minutes to get it in order. When I returned, she was facing away looking out over the back deck, had unbuttoned the shirt, pulled the tail out, and was flapping the front of the shirt back and forth to cool off.
Well, I thought that was a bit bold, but she was facing away from me, so I could not see anything. I cleared my throat so she'd know I was back, expecting her to button up. Instead, she casually turned around and took the water from my hand. I could now see her breasts clearly through the see-through material of her bra, and the A/C had peaked her nips up to hard points. Damn!
Then, just as she had asked for another glass of water, she said her clothes were uncomfortably soaked with sweat, and would I mind if she let them dry in the sun on the back deck.
In fact, I DID mind, as my wife and kids were home directly across the street and could pop over, my friends who owned the house could come home for lunch, and the neighbors on either side might see her out there.
But I nevertheless must have said something along the lines of "OK," for she walked out on the deck, sat on the bench, removed the shirt, and hung it on the back of the lounge. She then undid the fastener that held her hair in a ponytail, and shook out her long, natural blonde hair.
As that were not enough, she then stood up and wiggled the shorts off over her boots, draped them on another chair, and came back in.
Wow! What a fantastic body she had! Those big football tits, tiny waist, curvy, slim hips, mile-long legs, and, like her bra, the see-through material of her panties left no doubt that her pubes were shaved into a perfect heart shape.
She sat down on the edge of the leather den couch with her water in one hand like nobody's business and somehow got onto the subject of her husband, who was also a UPS driver and how unfortunate it was they were always working during the time of day they were horniest--lunchtime.
Well, thanks for sharing, and what a coincidence. It was lunchtime. My thick gold wedding ring was in plain view, but obviously that was not an issue, as she mentioned that her hubby enjoyed the "fringe benefits" of mostly only "lonely housewives" being home when he made deliveries and how "delighted" she was to find the rare male at home alone. I, of course, never told her that I was merely a guest at this house and actually lived across the street.
Well, I did not fool around on my wife, and having this aggressive near-naked horny woman thinking she was going to "cook" this "rare male" for lunch was making me increasingly nervous.
Her uniform dried fast, so I retrieved it and asked her to quickly put it back on as I looked at my watch and exclaimed, "Oh my, look what time it is!" and lied that my wife would be coming home for lunch any moment. She got with the program in a hurry and left with the parting words, "We'll pick up where we left off another day."
For the rest of the summer, I never answered the door again, though sometimes the knocking would continue for ten minutes.
I moved back to my own home office when school resumed in the fall. One day, she made a delivery across the street when my buddy, the homeowner who'd lent me his home office, happened to be off from work at home and answered the door.
He was a psychologist and extremely perceptive. Short, ten years older, and with a heavy beard, he looks nothing like me. He told me this good-looking blonde UPS driver's face nearly dropped on the porch when he opened the door as she questioned who he was, how long he'd lived there, who else lived there, etc., etc., etc.
He said he gathered she was expecting someone else. It was only then that I told him the story of her previous delivery that summer when I'd used their home office. He got a huge charge out of that and then fully understood her peculiar behavior when he answered the door.
I would occasionally see her zooming down the street in the distance, blonde hair flying in the breeze, but would hastily duck behind a bush or behind my car or something so avoid running into her again.
How come stuff like that never happens now that I'm divorced?
I often think of her when I hear UPS' new byline, "What can Brown do for you?"
Poster:
Lickum
