I began to notice Daniel when I was 13. Back then (a whole 5 years ago) I was bashful and shy, with wires on my teeth and dry, straw-like braids and pimples the size of Mount Etna. But anyway, more about Daniel -
He was always so kind to my family and I. He was one of our town's mailmen and a good one at that. I learned through my parents that he was 50 years old. It was the end of July and I turned 18 about two months ago. The last six weeks I had gone to Italy with a friend and her family, and during our trip I had some sort of sexual awakening, I guess you could say.
There were so many handsome men in Italy that instinctively I began to use my body as a magnet to attract their attention. I don't want it to sound like I slept around. In fact, I only slept with one man while I was Italy. He was 34 and his name was John Galuzzo. I gave my virginity to him and we continued to date and have sex till the day I went back to America.
Before this summer, I had always worn loose, baggy clothes to hide my body. Particularly my breasts. They weren't huge - it was more the way they were shaped that made me want to cover them. I was a B cup, but my breasts always stood out and were perky and before this summer I was self-conscious of them, wanting to covering them and hide them.
That morning I was in my panties and bra when my sister, Leah, came in my room. Leah was 20 and home for the summer from college. She was looking through my dvds mumbling about wanting to borrow one them.
"Fine with me," I said.
I slipped up my shorts that showed plenty of leg and hugged at my body. Then I put on my small, low-cut, white t-shirt.
"You know," Leah started. "Mom doesn't like your new little wardrobe you have there."
"Well, that's just tough shit," I retorted and grabbed a magazine and headed down to the front porch.
I sat down on the swinging bench that was on our roofed-porch. Daniel, or as I liked to call him in my mind "Danny", would be along shortly. He usually came around the same time everyday. Perhaps this should've been a signal that I need to find myself a constructive hobby, but I refused. After all, today would be the first day that Danny would see me since I went to Italy and I wanted him to see my "makeover".
My father pulled into the driveway and got out with a couple bags of groceries. "Hi Daddy!" I squealed.
"Hello darling, how are you?"
I accidentally dropped my magazine and Daddy tripped up the steps. I giggled, knowing he had been looking down my top.
"Oh Daddy, here let me help," I said as I helped him up off the steps.
He chuckled, "Thank you, honey."
We picked up the groceries and put them back in the bags. I carried a couple bags into the house for Daddy and went back out onto the porch to wait for Danny.
I considered Daddy my "practice man". I intended to perfect the art of flirting and teasing and who better to practice on than my old man?
At that moment I saw Danny make his way across the lawn, his bag slung over his chest. "Hi!" I waved at him.
He came up the steps, "Well, hello there young lady." His eyes swept across my body.
"How are you?"
"G-good Anne, how are you?" he said kind of nervously. He proceeded to try and stuff the mail in the box.
"Oh pretty good," I got up to help him with the mail. I stood next to him, "It's ok, I'll just take the mail. I don't why that darn box is so stubborn. Usually you can slip just about anything in there," I said, grinning up at him.
He blushed, "Yes, yes." I frowned. "What's wrong Anne?"
"Well, you didn't say anything about my new outfit. Don't you like it?"
He nodded, "I do like it. I just didn't want to say it because I-I wanted to be a gentleman about it."
I giggled and gently touched his arm. He was clearly surprised at my flirtatiousness.
"Could you take 5 minutes from your route?" I asked.
"Sure, I can," he said.
"Okie dokie. Go sit on the swing and I'll be right back."
I went into the house, threw the mail on the table and went into the kitchen to get us a couple glasses of lemonade and pieces of candy. I'm so glad the government was less strict on their mailman's dress code, I thought to myself as I thought of the tan pants Danny was wearing today. His tush looked so cute in them.
I brought out the tray with the drinks and candies. "Here we are," I said as I set down the tray on the wide porch rail. I handed him his glass and chocolate candy bar and sat beside him.
"Thank you," he said. "You certainly look different," he commented.
I giggled, "Thanks. My Mom doesn't like it though."
"Well, that's a Mom for you," he laughed.
I paused, "I like those pants. They look really nice on you."
He blushed again, "Thank you," he said as I saw a lump develop in his pants. "So," he began, trying to change the subject. "How was Italy?"
I told him about my trip.
"Sounds like fun...Did all the men hit on you?" he said, smiling.
I laughed and playfully hit his knee, "Oh you....Well, a couple of them. But their mailmen weren't nearly as cute as you are."
"You better be careful little girl. Saying things like that could lead to other things."
I giggled.
All of a sudden my Dad came out onto the porch through the screen door, "Anne, can you come in the house for a minute?"
"Sure Daddy," I started to get up.
"I should go myself," Danny said. "Thanks for the drink and candy, Anne. Nice to see you, Mr. Peterson," he said to my father.
"Thanks Danny, you too," my Dad replied.
Danny left the yard as my Dad and I went into the house.
"Is there anything wrong, Daddy?" I asked.
"Of course, there's something wrong! You can't be talking like that to grown men."
"You were listening in on my conversation with Danny?" I asked.
"I heard you through the screen door. You used to be such a well-mannered young lady, Anne."
I glared at him and stomped up the stairs to my bedroom.
"Hey!" my father called out. "You get back here when I'm talking to you!"
I slammed the door shut. I wasn't upset, just angry. I hung around in my room till eight o'clock that night and then came downstairs, as I was going to meet my friend Artie that night. I was interested in him as a friend and nothing more, so it was safe.
"Where are you going dressed like that?" my Mom asked about my outfit when I came down the stairs that night. I hadn't changed, it was still the same shorts and t-shirt.
"I'm going to meet Artie. We're going to a movie."
"Anne, he's going to think you have other intentions."
"Oh Mom, he knows we're only friends. Plus, he has a girlfriend. She's a real dolt too, a real pain in the ass, a real -"
"Alright, alright. But I demand you get dressed in more modest clothing."