The gnome was on the bottom step.
Nelson strode up the walk, selecting the mail for the address. He saw her through the kitchen window, which looked out over the front yard. She smiled. He went through the ritual of knocking. She let him in.
Jodi was married. Her husband managed a car dealership about twenty miles away, that much Nelson knew from his observations of their mail. But he wasn't there that day. Jodi herself was as always in her slacks and blouse, neither dressed up nor particularly casual. Shoulder-length dark blonde hair. Slender. Her boobs were perhaps B's, though Nelson had never seen them. And she was pretty. Not stunning, not beautiful, but a face that was wholesome and cute. She took his hand and led him toward the breakfast bar, which separated the living room from kitchen. On the way she grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa. At her wordless guidance, he moved two stools out of the way and leaned against the bar. Jodi put the pillow on the hardwood floor and leaned on it before him. She looked up and their eyes met as her hands ran over the fabric of his pants and felt what lay beneath.
Nelson had been semi-hard all day, anticipating. He'd grown harder still when the house had come into sight. By the time he was coming up the walk, his dick was a rock. He watched Jodi unzip him and take down first his pants, then his briefs. His cock sprang out.
It was all very familiar. Seven times before this had unfolded. He looked down and watched as Jodi took him in her mouth. It was heavenly. It always was. Not just for the physical pleasure, which was considerable, but also for all that which made it so erotic. For the ring on the finger of the hand wrapped around the base of his dick. For her fully-clothed appearance, the very picture of domesticity, yet on her knees fellating him. For the dynamic of the mailman and the customer. For the fact that there would be no reciprocation.
Nelson closed his eyes momentarily, losing himself in her sucking. Then he came back to the present, opened them, watched. Jodi occasionally glanced up at him as she went about what she was doing. She was neither in a hurry nor intending to draw things out. He knew that she wanted the fruition of her efforts as much as did he. Time began to blur, and at some point it passed from mere pleasure to that growing sensation, the rising of ecstasy within. He conveyed this in a soft murmur, and Jodi looked up at him. Nelson watched his cock slide in and out of her mouth.
He began to thrust now, gentle movements of his hips to meet her head as she bobbed on his dick. Her eyes twinkled with anticipation.
"You're an amazing cocksucker," he said in a cracking voice. This was part of their ritual, a waypost on this path they periodically took together. At that, she began sucking him more earnestly, and for his own part he let what was to come, come. Nelson could feel in her mouth a yearning, and that only propelled forward his course toward the inevitable. And then it was there, hanging precipitously for a long and lingering moment when he was past the point of no return but before it had manifested itself. When the first surge came he watched her take it, and her sucking became deep. She sucked. And sucked. And sucked. With each thrust, he watched. Watched his dick disappear into her mouth. Watched her take what he gave her. He watched as she sucked until he was spent.
Finally, Jodi looked up at him and let his cock slip from her mouth with a wet pop. She swallowed, once then twice, as they shared a gaze. Then she stood and picked up the pillow. She smoothed out her slacks and top, licked her lips, and strode coolly into the kitchen, the very picture of respectable domesticity to anyone who might have come suddenly upon the scene.
Nelson zipped up.
"Do you want a glass of wine?"
He accepted the offering. It was still morning, but this too was part of their ritual. They would now talk. Mostly of unimportant things. Mostly not about sex. They just talked. And sipped. And the entire time, the reality of what had just transpired hung unspoken but always there, deliciously present.
It was at times like this that Nelson considered the totality of his actions. Beyond the fact that Jodi was married, he was at work. Presumably any sort of sexual contact with customers violated a variety of rules. So, too, did the most of an hour that he would spend there. Not working. Getting his cock sucked and then sharing an after-fellatio glass of wine. But nothing would come of it. He did his job and he did it well, consistently coming in well ahead of his prescribed time, or doing more work than allotted for his eight hours. Management wasn't stupid. If they knew what was happening, or had any inkling of it, that would be a different story. But they didn't, and they wouldn't. He gave them no reason to be.
He would have happily reciprocated.
"That isn't what this is about," Jodi had told him. And that was that. She needed to be exactly who and what she was, a married cocksucker on her knees. What she had told him once was that now she would watch him in the street from the upstairs window while masturbating for the next week or so, every day. He would never look up. Still, the thought would linger in the coming days as he worked.
He had to go. They parted.
That night he and Suzanne had dinner.
"I had sex with one of my customers today."
A silent, contemplative look. Then the familiar question.
"Where did you finish?"
"In her mouth."
"Jodi?"
Nelson nodded.
Then he took her back to her place and put his cock in her mouth. He pulled out before he came and spurted on her face. Then he fucked her, long and hard.
That was their ritual.
Nelson had long flirted with Maria, the secretary at one of two churches on his route. She was in the office during the day when the building was otherwise mostly empty, and she flirted right back at him. When he didn't find her at her desk, he walked over to the adjacent room where he sometimes saw her as he put the mail on the desk where she usually sat. And there she was.
He found her making coffee. She heard him enter the room, turned, smiled. They had long been slipping towards this moment. Nelson knew it, and he thought Maria did, too. He watched as she bent over to take a filter from the cabinet below. Maria was short, under five-six, with a magnificent ass. She was also quiet and studious, plainly pretty, and had that smile that he felt indispensable. And, of course, she worked in a church. Together, it presented a complex and alluring picture. He came up behind her just as she was turning on the coffee-maker, and put his hands on her shoulders.
"How's your day going so far?" he offered.
"Not bad, and I think it's about to get better," she returned.
Nelson closed to her. His erect dick pressed up against that magnificent ass, through his postal slacks and her pants. Her body started momentarily, a purely physiological reaction. Then she melted against him. He kissed the back of her neck and she gyrated her body against his, and his hands moved down to cup her tits through her top. Erect nipples. He smiled to himself.
"You mentioned that you have a girlfriend?" she queried softly.
"I do," Nelson confirmed.
Silent musing. Then.
