Chapter 10

Vanessa was on a day off on January Fourth, so we waited eagerly together for the mailman to deliver Tanya’s gift to us. That’s how I’d come to see the photos. Tiny gifts from the delectable young vixen that had so pleasantly invaded my life and dreams. Each picture was a vision of exotic beauty that I’d proudly show to my friends if I were single and of a similar age to her. But I knew, given I was married and more than twice her age, I couldn’t show those pictures even though they were sweet and innocent and showed her discreetly.

I heard the postie’s bike puttering on our front lawn, so I grabbed my wife’s waist as she stood to rush out the door. Then roughly bending her over, I tore off her thong and growled, “‘Accidentally’ drop the letter again, and flash the mailman. Ensure your legs are straight when you bend over, and give him a good long look. Then stand, turn back to him, and flash your tits.”

“Liam, no!” Ness protested.

“Yes,” I insisted. “You will do it because I demand you do. Now go!”

Vanessa wanted to protest, but my hand cupped her cunt, and the sudden heat of her arousal told me she’d do it.

“You are so bad!” Ness growlingly whispered.

“Me?” I protested. “I’m not about to show my whore’s cunt and tits to the postie!”

“Shit!” She muttered but hiked her skirt a little higher until the bottom of her pussy almost showed, then pulled her blouse out from inside it to hide that the skirt’s waist was now halfway up her tummy. Then, undoing three buttons, she got to the door just as the postie knocked.

Throwing the door open, Vanessa chimed, “Hi! Got a special delivery for us?”

“Yes,” the postie answered, trying in vain not to look down her top.

But my wife was having none of it. So she leaned towards him, giving him an unfettered look down her blouse, her erect nipples clearly visible.

“May I see?” She asked as if she hadn’t noticed the envelope in his hand.

“Certainly, Ma’am,” the mailman replied, handing my wife the envelope, now openly ogling Ness’ svelte form. “Sign here, please,” he added.

Vanessa smiled as she handed the postie his pen back, then touched his cheek with the tip of her finger —something guaranteed to weaken his knees even as his todger stiffened.

Ness turned to go inside before she exclaimed, “Whoops!” As directed, she’d dropped the letter.

The mailman had begun to walk to his bike, but hearing my wife’s exclamation, he naturally turned back. Then, seeing her, the postie gulped, and his hand went unconsciously to his trouser front and grabbed his cock as his eyes bugged out of his head. Now standing stock still, the mailman pulled on his pants-covered dick as he stared at my wife’s gorgeous ass and delectably framed vulva until Ness straightened and turned to face him.

As she stood bent over, Ness had undone the last two buttons on her blouse, so holding the blouse’s tails, she spread her hands as she turned back to the mailman, exposing her scrumptious, 34C breasts to him and anyone in front of our house who happened to be looking. Then holding the envelope in her left hand, Ness casually said, “I swear I’m so clumsy sometimes that I even drop my knickers accidentally!”

The postie stood there speechless, rubbing his cock, and staring at my wife’s tits.

“Like what you see?” Ness cooed.

Still unable to speak, the mailman nodded.

“Would you like to touch them?” Vanessa purred, getting into her role.

“Please!” the postie croaked.

“You may,” Ness said. “But hands only. No fingers or thumbs and no squeezing, only soft kneading.”

His whole body shaking, the mailman took three tentative steps closer to my wife. Then, waiting to be chastised or for Ness to step away, the postie almost reverentially stretched out his hand and covered Vanessa’s left breast.

“Hmm,” Ness purred. “Close your fingers and really feel it, don’t be shy.”

The mailman closed his fingers around Ness’ mound.

“Nice,” my wife sighed. “Now knead it gently, and rub my nipple with your thumb.”

Beginning to relax and get into it, the postie did as Ness asked.

“Hmm,” Ness sighed. “Now stiffen your fingers and make your palm as hard as possible. Good. Now press against my nipple a little harder and move your hand in small slow circles. Yeah, just like that. That’s good.”

Trying not to laugh aloud, I watched as my slut wife was about to get off by being tit stimulated by an overweight, unshaven, 60+-year-old.

“Speed up your circles and give me your left hand,” Vanessa requested.

Taking the mailman’s fingers in her hands, Ness guided his thumb onto her clit and two of his fingers inside her sopping pussy.

“Don’t stop rubbing my nipple,” my wife demanded as she unzipped the postie, took his fairly standard-sized dick out, and began stroking it. “Circle my clit with your thumb as you circle my breast with your hand.” Then groaned as the mailman complied.

Vanessa’s eyes were closed as she undulated her hips at the postie’s questing fingers, but they suddenly flew open as she grabbed his wrist and ground her clit on his thumb, “Yesssss!” She hissed as she trembled and shook, a reasonably large orgasm washing over her.

Kissing the mailman’s cheek, my wife said, “Thank you,” as she pulled him by his dick until he was close enough for her to direct the tip of his penis onto her clit. Then jacking him as she rubbed the end across her clit and along her wet slit, she whispered, “Cum on my cunt. I want you to.”

“Fuuuuuck!” The postie groaned as he spat juices onto my wife’s clitoris.