PART 1: DELIVERY BOY
My savings were drying up. I badly needed a part-time job to get by, and didn't want to beg anyone else for loans.
I had classes every weekday but my afternoons and evenings were free. Club meetings were on Saturdays; that left Sundays free as well.
On my way back from school, I passed by the district post office and chanced upon a notice. They were looking for extra couriers. The job required working on two weekday afternoons only, delivering parcels to private residences.
I wasn't not picky about work, since I had no professional skills to offer. So I took the job.
I was given a bicycle to deliver all over my district. Weeks passed and I quickly learned what the job was all about. It wasn't so easy after all, with the heat making me wet as a fish on some days, and the rain making me wetter at other times.
My real adventure began when I was tasked to deliver to this refurbished house, amid an enclave of old colonial bungalows scattered across a small hill. This area was pretty far off the post office; no wonder it was hard for the post office to find someone to cover that area!
The uphill climb could give even athletes a good workout. Once the inclined eased out, I entered a different world. The hustle of the modern city felt far behind. There was only serenity amid large old houses and even larger, older trees.
Almost all the houses were painted in light colors, and sported architecture that no modern builder could make anymore. The area was a favorite with expatriates, who appreciated the rustic environment. They all had cars, so mobility wasn't an issue.
I reached the address on my parcel, the largest house of the lot at the very end of the road. There was no gate, so I went straight to the door and rang.
While I waited for a reply, I noticed that the colonial bungalow also sported a swimming pool and tennis court at the back. Modern, expensive additions to an old property. The owners were very rich and privileged people who never had to deal with the problems of normal people, I surmised.
A woman, doubtless the owner, answered. She was wearing a long robe with her hair bundled up neatly, probably fresh out of a bath. Besides the fragrance she emitted, her regal, exotic look got my attention immediately. She looked oriental, but I could not make out exactly her nationality. When she spoke, I figured she must have spent a great deal of time among the rich. There was almost an old, regal air about her, but at the same time she appeared very candid and connected well with anyone.
The woman was much older than me, but hid it well. She looked like someone in her mid-thirties, but hinted of being much older. She signed for the parcel and made small talk with me, which was usual friendliness in this enclave. I took the chance to look her over. She was much older than the girls I was usually drawn to, but must have been very beautiful in her youth.
She had very dark, enchanting eyes that could bewitch men if they stared too long. I glanced down, and made out the shape of her breasts underneath the thick robe. They looked.... large; deliciously large, even when covered like this. The way that robe wrapped around her -- she was like a present waiting to be opened, yet untouchable by the likes of me. I couldn't imagine getting intimate with such a mature woman though.
The woman appeared delighted that I was delivering for her area, and chuckled melodiously when I described how hard it was to cycle up to her house. She remarked that I might not look athletic but held a lot of strength in my skinny little frame, since I made it up there.
Then she surprised me with a tidbit about herself.
Her name was Victoria. She was a Countess. Wife of a relative of some old European royalty, whose title was inherited down from centuries ago. Unfortunately I didn't pay much attention to exactly to her family and lineage details. The 'Countess' title awed me enough. The house was her tropical retreat, in which she had stayed for a year to escape from the politics of the high life.
As I finally left, I turned back for a quick glance at the grandiose house, and noticed that Victoria was still at the door. She leaned on the doorway, arms crossed, watching me ride off with a keen look on her flawless face.
PART 2: IN THE HOUSE
By now I had been delivering to Victoria every week, and it was a routine. Sign, give parcel, small talk, leave. I usually peaked a glance at her body, and when my eyes met hers, I felt she always gave me a curious look.
She wore different clothing each time we met. Sometimes she was in thin silk robes; otherwise she'd be in casual t-shirt and tight pants; but with such a body Victoria looked pleasing in all of them.
On this particular day, the sky became unusually dark when I set out. I knew it would be one of those bad days when I would get caught in rain. I got more than I bargained for -- it was an all-out tropical thunderstorm.
The wind howled and the rain drenched me like I had fallen into a lake. Luckily the parcel was wrapped in a waterproof, sealed plastic sheet. If only they made bigger sheets for the couriers....
Victoria was especially concerned for me when I finally reached her doorstep. She muttered 'Oh my God!', and immediately asked me to come in and passed me a towel. My courier uniform was soaked through to my underwear, and I wondered how I could dry everything off. The Countess offered me hot chocolate, and I greedily accepted.
As she left me to make my drink, I looked over the interior of Victoria's splendid bungalow. It was both cozy and impressive. The living room was dark but in a comfortable way. Knick-knacks and antiques from different countries dotted the room, in the form of furniture or ostentatious shelf displays.
The Countess reappeared with my coffee, and sat next to me as I sipped. Only now I had the chance to look over the kind woman and thank her. With an almost girlish titter, she told me it was only proper that she dried me off in this weather. We chatted a bit.
Today, Victoria was wearing one of those silk robes I saw before. This was shorter than normal, maroon in color with gleaming patterns. When seated, the robe was too short to cover her thighs, which now gave me an enticing view. The Countess had incredibly shapely legs. They were neither too firm nor too flabby, and covered by flawless skin. Her skin gave off a dull sheen, perhaps from years of luxurious maintenance.
Her robe appeared too thin to keep out the cold, but she might have been wearing it earlier today -- it was hot before the thunderstorm started. The silhouette of her body was easily discernable, especially her enthralling breasts. The silk material over her robe settled on her body contours, and her upper body jutted prominently as we talked.
She must have noticed I was staring, because it was soon obvious I did not look at her face, but below it, when I talked.
Then I sneezed.
"Why don't you change out of that wet, cold uniform?" Victoria asked. "I have something you can wear."
I was reluctant because that felt too imposing. Then I was overcome by bouts of more sneezing.
