Well I guess that is one benefit of going away for a week; I have a big pile of mail waiting for me. I dumped the load on the dining room table and started sorting through it. Bill, bill, junk, junk, ... not for me, not for me, ... bill, not for me. Does the mailman use a white cane or a seeing eye dog?
By the time I finished, the 'not for me' pile was almost as big as my pile. Mine mostly junk mail. They all had yellow change of address stickers on them. Sheila Johnson? What a screw up someone made. I looked closer. They have my apartment number on the label. Damn.
Out of the shower, still drying off, naked, I stood in front of the open fridge looking for something to eat for breakfast. It was pretty empty in there. The cold air against my bare skin feels great. For a moment, my nipples agree. As I rub a finger idly over my pussy, I realize I probably need to go to the grocery store later. At least there is one yogurt left. Nothing else. Pathetic.
The towel tossed on the counter, some drops of water still standing on my skin, I leaned back against the counter. A foot hiked high against the edge of the island stretching my long leg, I put a spoonful of strawberry yogurt in my mouth. It rolled across my tongue as I pressed it against the roof of my mouth for a second. I loved the thickness and texture. Reminded me of the evening when Susan let me eat my yogurt out of her pussy. Wow! What a wonderful mixture of tastes that was. Too bad she had to move so far away. No more 'fuckbuddy'. I need a pussy to eat once in a while, need to be eaten. A finger probes my pussy for a second. Yes, I need to be eaten. I'm so horny. I finger myself longer this time.
A small drop falls from the spoon and lands on my nipple. I take the spoon and scrape along the skin of my breast to scoop it up. The cold metal makes my nipple stand up nicely again. Using the bottom of the spoon, I smear a little more yogurt over the end of the nipple until it is completely covered in the reddish paste. A fingertip rubs across the erect nipple transferring much of the now warm yogurt leaving a little more for a second swipe.
I start to open my car door and realize a new car is parked on the other side. Maybe someone has moved into that empty apartment next door. Hope it isn't some loud bunch of college students like last time. Could that mail belong to that apartment? Not in a big rush, no longer starving after that yogurt. Still wanting something more personal to eat too. Sheila, could she...?
Mail in hand, I knocked on the door. It was too late to stop as I heard a voice.
"Oh baby! ... Fuck Momma ... Be right back."
The door opened just enough to see her standing there, nothing on. She was a goddess with curves in all the right places, nice breasts and shaved crotch. Her long brown hair was disheveled like she had been fucking all night. Vibe in her hand, tip resting on what appeared to be very kissable lips. My eyes were taking it all in, so obvious I was staring.
"Just fucking Fred. Can I help you?"
