My sweet loving husband arrived home from the pub and he was in a foul mood. Fair enough. If he wants to be in a foul mood he's allowed to be I guess, but I sure wasn't going to have him taking his mood out on me. After the third or fourth little dig I had a go at him.
"What the fuck's wrong with you?" I snapped. "Whatever it is, unless it directly concerns me, don't take it out on me."
"It's Jacko. He was down at the pub boasting he's slept with every single woman in our street."
"Might I point out that there aren't many single women on this street? Most of us are married. Who's Jacko, anyway?"
"Jacko! You know Jacko!"
"If you say so," I said giving him a dubious look.
"He's the frigging postman. How could you not know him?"
"Oh, Postie. Of course I know him. Everyone does. Never stops talking and always says hullo to everyone. I just never knew what his name was."
"Well," Phil said in a very demanding voice.
"Well what?" I demanded in turn.
"Have you slept with him or not?"
I gave Phil the evil eye.
"Who I may, or may not, have slept with before I met you is none of your business. We agreed when we got engaged that we wouldn't discuss past lovers. Of course, if you want to change that now there are a few questions I'd like to ask regarding your relationship with my little sister before we started dating."
He almost crashed into himself he changed the subject so fast. Then he departed to go and watch the tellie while I went about making dinner. What he didn't know was that I knew my little sister and one of the things I knew was that she was a bit of a tramp, sleeping with all her boyfriends, and Phil had been no exception.
While I prepared dinner I thought about Postie and when I got to really know him. I'd run out of eggs and instead of running down the street to get some I decided to borrow a couple off Jan. I went next door and strolled up the path to Jan's front veranda. A veranda, I will note, that is basically hidden from the street by some large bushes in front of it.
I came to an abrupt halt just before I stepped onto the veranda. From where I was I could see both Jan and Postie. Jan was bent over the small veranda table, her skirt hitched up around her waist and her panties tangled around one ankle. Postie's trousers were around his ankles and his hairy bottom was on display. (Not a bad bottom for a man, I had to admit.)
What was also on display from where I stood was his erection, and again I had to admit it wasn't a bad one. Okay, quite a good one, long and fat and at the current moment very busy, sliding in and out of Jan with great fervour.
After I got over the initial shock of that I also noticed that Jan's top and bra were pushed up, freeing her breasts. Not that they'd stayed free. Postie's hands had captured then and he was massaging them in time to his thrusting cock.
He was also talking softly to Jan as he fucked her, his voice going on and on, not even slowing down or changing when he turned his head to look at me. If it wasn't for the fact that he winked at me I'd have thought he hadn't seen me. Jan certainly didn't, continuing to bounce her bottom up and down and making soft little sounds in most eager tones.
I was too stunned to do anything so I finished up standing there and watching like a gawk as Postie paid his attentions to my friend. My married friend. His cock would pull right back until I thought it would pop free, then he'd stop and go charging back in, thrusting home for all he was worth.
It suddenly dawned on me that Postie had reacted to my presence. He'd changed position slightly. Not by much and I doubted that Jan even realised, but he had, and for only one purpose as far as I could tell. It was simply to give me a better view of his cock plunging home. What a narcissistic bastard!
About then something else dawned on me. I was still standing there watching. If I was still there when they finished off Jan would be horribly embarrassed. So would I for that matter. I beat a swift and silent retreat. I'd get the eggs down the street after all, I decided.
Once I was home and engaged in my baking I forgot all about Postie and Jan. Maybe not forgot but I certainly put it out of my mind. True, Phil may have got lucky that night but I certainly wasn't wondering about Postie at the time. Not at all.
A couple of days later the door-bell rang and when I opened the door Postie was standing there, a big smile on his face. It wasn't my fault that a picture of him with Jan popped into my mind. I could feel my nipples reacting, and I was blushing. I was blushing even more when my eyes dropped for a moment and I saw the distinctive bulge in his trousers.
"Hi, Nicki," he said breezily. "I thought I'd hand deliver your mail today."
He held out a couple of letters and I automatically took them, dropping them onto the side table next to the door.