Looking through the peephole, my eyes were blessed with a beautiful and unexpected sight.
When I signed up for cable service, I expected the stereotypical large sweaty cable guy to do the installation, not the lovely feminine creature standing on my doorstep. She was tall and slender with dark brown hair tied back in a 1940's style chignon at the base of her neck. It was demure yet amazingly sultry at the same time. She was wearing a button down white shirt, her name stitched on it, right under the name of the cable company. The heavy leather tool belt accentuated her waist and shapely buttocks. I opened the door and trying not to act flustered, stumble out a quick, "Hello, come on in."
"Thank you, I'm with National Cable, you signed up for service?"
"Uh, yes, I did."
I could now see that her shirt was sort of see-through, allowing me to make out the white lacy bra underneath it and beneath that the barest outline of large, erect nipples. My breath caught in my throat and I felt myself starting to get wet.
I invited her in and she walked into my living room, looking me over. I was fresh out of the shower, wearing only a short bathrobe, my wet hair wrapped in a towel. I could feel her gaze as I directed her over to where the television was.
"Here you go", I said and quickly walked into the kitchen. "Would you like some coffee?"
"Company policy doesn't allow me to accept anything from customers, but for you, I'll make an exception", was her reply from the other room, her voice giving the hint that maybe, (Oh please, please, please), she wasn't just talking about the coffee.