About five years ago, my wife and I decided to get a divorce. We married young, and were also married to our careers. We had no children, because neither one of us would be home long enough to be a good parent. Our sex life was pretty good, when we happened to be together to have sex. We divorced the best of friends.
I thought it would be a good idea to do a Bob Seger and "Turn the Page." Since I had relatives on both coasts, a move to the Midwest was my choice. No more long coast-coast trips. I bought a house an hour's drive south of a major city. As long as I owned a dependable car, and could get to an airport, I could work from just about anywhere in the country.
One day, a couple of weeks after I moved in, the doorbell rang. Standing at the front door was a very pretty Postal Worker carrying a package. She said, "Hi, my name is Marty. Whenever possible, we have to hand deliver packages." I thanked her, caught a hint of Lavender, and watched her slim figure, complete with bouncing ponytail, get in her vehicle and drive to my neighbor's mailbox. We were close in age, but I thought I was about 5 years older.
Over the next month, Marty delivered a couple of packages, and found the time to make small talk with me. One afternoon, I was working from home, sitting on my patio reading a spread sheet, and drinking a glass of wine, when my doorbell rang.
Marty was standing on my front porch with a package. When I opened the door, she said, "Tony, I tried to deliver this yesterday, but you weren't home, I was afraid it might get wet, so I didn't leave it." I responded, "That's fine and if I'm not around, which happens frequently, that's what you should do. She then said, "I notice all the mail is addressed to you, is there a Mrs.?" I told her that I was divorced and unattached, but married to my job.
Hearing this she quickly said, " My girl friends and I go to the Midway Cafe on Wednesday nights. The beer is cold, sometimes there's live music, and there are significantly less guys trolling the place looking for a piece of ass!" I already liked her bubbly personality, now I was enjoying her candor.
"You know," I said, "I just may see you there."
The following Wednesday around 9:00, I walked into the Midway Cafe. Almost every animal that once lived in the county was stuffed and on display. The only thing missing was Patrick Swayze! When Marty saw me, she shrieked and came running up to me. She gave me a big hug, a sisterly kiss on the cheek, and took me by the hand to her table.
Introductions were made, rounds of beer were purchased, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Marty's crew were all single; one friend never got married, one friend was divorced, and one friend was a military widow. Marty got up couple of times and unsteadily walked to go to the bathroom. When she came back the last time, she asked me, with slurred words, to take her home.
I parked at her apartment complex and walked her to her door. I could smell the clean fresh Lavender shampoo she used on her hair. She looked at me and said, "Would you like to come in?" As much as I wanted to, I said, "Marty, if we're going to bring our friendship to the next level, we are going to do this right. I'm a bit of a Foodie and I know my way around a kitchen. You will be wined and dined by candle light. I've never taken advantage of a girl in my life - I'm not going to start with you."
She hugged and thanked me for being a gentleman. I watched her, in her tight jeans, enter the apartment. I waited until I heard the door close and the lock set, then I went home and seriously thought about jerking off.
It was almost three weeks before my schedule would allow us to have that supper I promised.
Marty showed up wearing a t-shirt, skinny jeans, heels and her signature pony tail. "My goodness", she said, "This house smells like an Italian Restaurant!"
I poured us a glass of wine that paired well with the supper I prepared, and showed her around the house. We sat in the living room sipped our wine and made small talk; mostly about how much she liked the completely open kitchen, dining room and living room concept of my house.
I asked her to light the candles and refill our wine glasses, while I opened another bottle of wine and plated supper.
During supper, she told me about her ex. I told her about my ex. She talked about work. I talked about work. She mentioned not dating much since her divorce. I mentioned not dating much since my divorce. She told me about growing up on a big working farm. I told her about growing up in a big east coast city. She told me that if she ate anymore, she would explode. I told her to save room for dessert!
I said to her, "Let me clear the table, then we can have cordials in the living room. When we have digested properly, we'll have the dessert I made. I can turn on the fireplace for ambience."
We each took something to the sink, multiple times. I finished loading the dishwasher, and turned to find Marty standing very close to me. She undid her ponytail, shook out her hair, and wrapped her arms around my neck.
Our first kiss was passionate and tender. Her lips were soft and moist. Neither one of us was in a rush to do anything more, but kiss. Eventually our tongues began exploring each other's mouths. Our breathing began to quicken, and all the while, I could smell the unmistakable Lavender scent of her hair.
"The rest of the clean-up can wait," she said. "Let's go mess up that nicely made kingsize bed you have in the master bedroom."
I led her by the hand to the foot of the bed and we began kissing again. This time, our hands began to explore the contours of each other's bodies. I hadn't been with a woman in some time and my dick was straining to be released from my pants.
Our tops came off first; her's, followed by mine. Marty began kissing my chest and licking my nipples. She reached behind her back and unsnapped the claps on her navy bra. Her perfect B cup tits with their big pink nipples were inches from me. Our chests came together as we continued our slow, tender kissing.
