Samantha awoke with a start, the beeping of her alarm clock ringing in her ears. Groggily, she rolled over and hit the snooze button. Five more minutes. Rolling over onto her back, she gazed up at the ceiling, trying to find the motivation to crawl out of bed and get ready for work. Her mind wandered to the day ahead, the meetings, the paperwork, the boredom of sitting in her cubicle waiting for five o'clock to roll around. Just like every day. She sighed. At least it paid the rent.
Soon enough, Samantha's alarm clock went off again, breaking her out of her sleepy haze. Rolling her legs off the side of her bed into her warm slippers, she stood up with a yawn, and headed downstairs to make herself breakfast.
Sat at the small dining table of her flat's modest kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil, she couldn't help but stare off into the distance. Checking the clock, she felt a sudden familiar rush of excitement. It was nearly eight. Tapping her foot, she waited eagerly for the one thing that invariably brightened her day. Rory.
Almost on cue, she heard the doorbell ring, and practically leapt to her feet. After adjusting her dressing gown to make sure she was decent, she quickly made her way to the front door. Through the glass she could see a familiar silhouette standing on her porch, a large bag slung around his waist. Her heart skipped a beat. Quickly adjusting her hair, she reached out her and opened the door.
"Hi"
"Good morning. Parcel for you, Miss Foster."
Samantha smiled. In front of her stood a tall, handsome man, wearing a postman's uniform. His hair was a dusty blonde colour, shaved short at the sides, and his eyes shone the deep blue of the ocean at night. Beneath his clothes, his muscular build was evident, and as he spoke the warm smile on his lips and the light stubble decorating his sharp jawline made her heart flutter.
"Oh, thank you."
Reaching out, she took the parcel from his hands, her fingers brushing against his as she did, causing them both to laugh awkwardly. She looked up at him.
"Same time tomorrow?"
"Same time tomorrow. Eight AM sharp. As long as I have a package to deliver, of course."
They both chuckled, and as he made his way back down the garden path, Samantha couldn't help but sigh as she watched him go.
Closing the door, she made her way back into the kitchen, putting the parcel down on the table, and returning to her breakfast. Quickly finishing her toast, she left the water boiling to make her way upstairs to the bathroom.
Letting her dressing gown fall around her feet, Samantha stepped into the shower and turned on the faucet. As the warm water began to cascade down her body, she let out a long, content sigh. Few things in life felt as good as a warm shower.
Closing her eyes, she just stood there for a while, letting the water run down her naked body, across her shoulders, between her breasts, down her thighs to her feet. Once again, she thought about the day ahead of her, and grimaced. God, she needed a break. She'd been working in the same office for almost five years now, with no promotion and barely a pay rise. It wasn't a bad job by any means, but after a while the monotony had begun to wear on her soul. What she needed was an escape, something new and exciting to revitalise her.
Perhaps a holiday, she thought, reaching for the strawberry and coconut shower gel to her right. Somewhere exciting, and exotic, like India or South America. She smiled to herself. Perhaps she could just go spontaneously, book a week off work and head to the airport, jump on the first flight she could and see where the universe took her. She laughed.
As she began to lather herself with soap, her thoughts wandered once again, back to the handsome postman who came to her door every day. She thought about his smile, and the way his eyes sparkled when she asked if she'd see him again tomorrow. Her hands moved across her stomach, and she couldn't help but think of the way his hands brushed against hers, the tenderness with which he handed her her post.
She felt her cheeks beginning to flush as her imagination took her further, to the tightness of his shirt, stretched across his muscular chest, and sharp cut of his jaw. Her hands began to drift further down, across her thighs as she began to picture him shirtless, his strong arms wrapped around her, his own hands on her body, caressing her, holding her tight against him as he kissed her neck from behind. She let out a soft gasp as her fingertips traced higher along her legs, getting closer and closer to her privates as her thoughts grew steamier by the second. Barely inches from herself, she imagined him pushing her down gently onto the bed, climbing on top of her from behind, his mouth on her ear...
Suddenly, she snapped back to reality. She still had to be at work in half an hour. Finishing her shower, she turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel from the rack to dry herself as she quickly made her way to her bedroom to get dressed.
Leaving the house, locking the door behind her, Samantha couldn't help but feel a sense of melancholy at leaving her fantasy behind as well. Sitting in the morning traffic, her brain a mess of emotions, she tried not to think about it, and to focus on the day ahead instead. She'd always been a model employee, reliable and good at her work, but lately she'd been falling behind, and she couldn't afford to have another unproductive day.
But later, sat alone in her cubicle, she found it increasingly hard to focus on her work. Every time she tried to work on a report, she's just end up staring at the screen, reading the same sentences over and over, unable to think of anything but the man who came to her door every day.
By the time her lunch break had rolled around, she'd barely done any work at all. Grabbing her coat, she made her way towards the staircase, heading out to the cafe down the road, where she usually got her sandwiches. Stepping through the door to her concrete office building and out onto the windy street, she turned her collar up to the cold. As she started to walk, she could feel the familiar melancholy feeling rising again. Here she was, on her way to the same sandwich shop she visited every day, to get the same thing for lunch, before heading back to the same building to do the same boring job. Every single day. She wanted to scream.
She needed to escape, find something to break up the monotony of her life, even for just a moment. A string of failed relationships had seen her throw herself into her work, but now she couldn't stand the idea of doing this for the rest of her life. She needed something to spice things up, something wild and spontaneous, to bring the spring back to her step. An idea quickly flashed across her mind, but she dismissed it as fantasy.
But then, suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Why did it just have to be a fantasy? Why couldn't she make it a reality? What was stopping her? She nodded to herself. She'd made up her mind. Nothing was going to change if she didn't force it to. She needed to break out, live her life the way she wanted to. And she knew exactly what she was going to do first.
Hurrying to the cafe, she made her order, choosing the first thing she saw on the menu. She gave the girl behind the counter her money, and made her way back to the office, eating as she went. She began to plan exactly what she was going to do, how best to put her plan into motion. By the time she arrived back at her cubicle her mind was set. She sat down, turning her computer back on, and went back to trying to work, her mind a whirlwind of excitement. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, shaking slightly as her heart pounded in anticipation.
It didn't take long to make up for the slow morning, and by the time the clock chimed five, Samantha was reasonably pleased with the work she'd accomplished. Grabbing her coat again, she made her way towards her boss's office.
