Chapter 10

Nick Petrushka had been reading meters now for close to twenty years, and he figured he had the job aced. In fact, to the point where it actually had become quite boring. Same old round-- ring the doorbell, lady in scruffy slippers and bathrobe, curlers in her hair, lets you in, you read the numbers, and you're gone. That's all there was to it. Every work day for nineteen years and seven months.

Here we go again, Nick sighed to himself as he headed up the walk towards the attractive yellow frame house that was next on his route. Actually this particular route was new to Nick, but everything, everybody on it so far had been so much like the old familiar places and faces that it didn't seem to make much difference. He'd asked for a new route to ease the boredom, but it hadn't worked. Maybe it's time I looked for a new career, he thought glumly as he rang the doorbell.

Nick immediately felt a familiar apprehension as he heard a dog bark on the other side of the front door. One of the cardinal hazards of his profession was unfriendly dogs, and the graying meter man was in no mood to fight off a canine assault at the moment. All he wanted was to get the day over with as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

After ringing the doorbell a second time, Nick was rewarded with the sound of human footsteps on the other side of the door. In a moment it had swung open and a very attractive brunette in a bathrobe, no slippers and no curlers in her long shiny, black hair, was smiling at him through the screen.

Nick had to swallow hard before he could find his voice. The woman's terry robe was tied so loosely in front he could see a good three inches of the cleavage and curves of her full, round boobs. And what's more, just another half-inch and he was sure he'd be able to catch a glimpse of her beaver.

"Good... good morning, ma'am," he stammered, his cool gone for the first time in almost twenty years on the job. "I'm your new m-m-meter man."

The woman smiled a bright welcome as she swung the screen door open to admit the shaken man. "Good morning. Please come in. You look like you could use a cup of coffee, am I right?"

Nick couldn't believe his ears. Sure, he'd heard the old jokes about the milk man, the delivery man or the meter man being greeted at the door by a beautiful, half-dressed, horny woman, but this was the first time anything like it had happened to him. He'd become a skeptic, in fact, about the truth of any of those stories.

Edging through the door, Nick stuck out a cautious hand to stroke the big German shepherd who stood close at his mistress' heels. "Sure sounds good, ma'am... the coffee, I mean," he managed to blurt out once he was well inside the living room, his hat and his clipboard in his hand, his face apprehensive but brightening with an unfamiliar eagerness.

"Hey, you know, you're kind of cute," the brunette was saying, moving closer to the older man and wrapping her arms around his neck, planting a long, wet kiss on his trembling lips.

When their lips had parted, Nick looked long and hard into the brunette's dark eyes, and suddenly something in him snapped. The boredom and frustration of twenty years of tedium melted away and he was alive again.

Hell, he thought arrogantly, I'm only forty-three years old. Why shouldn't this good-looking broad find me attractive?

Needing no further invitation, the mouse-turned-tiger grabbed the girl tightly around the shoulders and swung her down, leaning over her to plant a long Don-Juan-type kiss on her trembling lips. The meter man could feel his cock pulsing to an unaccustomed excitement in his pants as he realized that this gorgeous, half- naked woman was actually trembling under his touch, obviously dying with need for more of his ardent attentions.

"Hey, baby, why don't we take off this bathrobe?" he suggested boldly, pulling the ties apart and slipping the garment down off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap at her feet.

For a moment Nick's old timidity came back as the shy man drank in the full, out-thrust swell of the brunette's tanned boobs, their little pink nipples hardening to taut erection under his gaze. Her belly was smooth and flat, her hips full and swelling. Nick suddenly wondered if he could handle this obviously highly sexed, ripe example of lush womanhood. After many years of fucking an apathetic, overweight, out of shape wife every two or three weeks, Nick was not sure he was ready for the demands of Venus. He was too used to beer-swilling Agnes Petrushka.

"What's the matter?" the girl pouted, a frown contorting her features into an expression that made her even more desirable to Nick. "Don't you think I'm pretty?"

Her eyes glistened with a little twinkle of mischief as she moved in on the reluctant man and began to undo the buttons of his blue uniform shirt.

"Why don't you let me see what you look like?" she asked coquettishly, her tits rubbing lewdly against his chest as she helped him raise his arms out of his shirt.

Nick's fear was again forgotten in a new rush of lust as he realized this gorgeous woman was actually so hot for his body that she was tearing the clothes right off him. He suddenly forgot to be self-conscious as the simple truth struck him that his sexual capacity had seemed minimal over the past years only because there had been nothing within grabbing distance to arouse it. The way his cock was thumping in his baggy trousers at the moment, he didn't have the slightest worry that he'd be able to give the lady a good fuck once she got his clothes off.

"Ma'am, you are the most beautiful piece of woman I have ever seen this side of dreamland," he complimented the lusty woman as she knelt down to help him step out of his pants. "I..."