The Lady and the Postman

Now it must be time for me to write and tell about my best experience on the white sheet. I am a postman in Hellerup. I am a girl and 22 years old. The postal service is only a step on the way to higher education. After all, you have to earn money to live.

I guess I look pretty good. Has long legs and a small butt. I am also dark with long wavy hair and brown eyes. One of the houses I "post" is a proper box. There are always two cars in the carport. One is a Jaguar sport, the other a huge Mercedes. On the morning I want to tell about, only the Jaguar was there, I called with a package. The lady of the house finally opened the door. I had seen her before. She was a beautiful woman, well-kept and in her mid-thirties I believe. Now I'm not that good at judging age so don't get hung up on it. The lady was wearing a pink housecoat in pure HOIlywood style and she had clearly just woken up.

— Now come inside, she said. It's so cool to stand in the door. She had to sign in my little "black" book and have her package. — Guud, she squealed, — it's probably the naughty underwear I ordered from the German catalog. She tore up the paper and stood with a multitude of black lace and chiffon in her hands.— Sit down. Now just you wait and see. Surprised, I dropped into a chair in the refined "country kitchen"

I was in good time with my post, could have taken a little break. Quite unabashedly, the lady undid her Hollywood dream and stood naked — only wearing her high-heeled slippers.

She put on a black corset and asked me to tighten her back. Just lace up, she said, — I love something that's tight. I fumbled a bit with the black silk ribbons. My hands became damp. The lady had a very narrow waist and a very beautiful large seagull, the balls were gaping and tempting. Now she was so tightly laced that she had the most beautiful wasp waist. She turned to me. The small firm breasts pointed straight at me.

The cunt was studded and very black-haired. Does it suit me? I could nod dumbly. You should try something too, you can walk the mannequin for me. Throw away the clothes, girl. Obediently, I took off the tattered cowboy pants and the thin blouse. Stood in my nice, nice "sloggi". The lady glanced at me quickly. Also the panties of course. I was a bit embarrassed, but the lady was a natural, so why not me too.

She gave me a full-figure cross in glossy, shiny black lacquer. It suited me perfectly. The lady thought I had the breasts for it. "It's too big for me," she stated briskly. —It's yours.

I had no idea what to say. What would Kennet at home not think if he saw me in the lacquer cross. Probably die of laughter. Now it was as if the lady first really noticed me. She went very close and touched my perky breasts in the half cup. — How delicious, she whispered hoarsely. — What a dewy youth and what a skin. I stood completely paralyzed, unable to move. The lady's expensive exotic perfume hit my nose and numbed me. Now she took me by the hand and led me through some rooms and up a wide staircase. I followed unwillingly into a huge bedroom.

A giant four-poster bed, airy curtains—it was a very "feminine" room. Still wearing our 'costumes' we fell over on the bed. I only sensed the oriental perfume, the soft body. The lady's hands were amused. They found out my secret points. Her lovely tongue played out my orgasms one by one. I was a victim of hers, I unwillingly let her use me. The whole time she was praising me or almost talking to herself. — What a splendid cunt, what taste of a young woman.

When she finally released me, I had no idea if our session had lasted an hour or four. I was hoping for one – otherwise I would be in a hurry. I was a little afraid of whether I would have to retaliate. Kissing and licking the lady, but that was not the point. She helped me off the corset and put it in a plastic case from Illum's. While I quickly put on my clothes, she talked as if nothing had happened.

I got out the door a little quickly and forgot to get her signature as a receipt for the package. Now I don't know if I dare to call again tomorrow. I better make sure there are two cars in the carport. So the man is probably at home. Only now she hasn't told him about me. Or... Am I hoping for it deep down? He is a flower guy..The female post