Just Life
By stacey kay
Chapter 8 -- Adventures in the Mail Room
As my fingers make the initial contact with the door handle, I hear the gracious sound of my voice near the hall to the back of the apartment, "Oh, George, wait..."
I turn on my heels and look back at her with a pleading smile, glad to hear the joke is off.
"I almost forgot, make sure when you bend over to pick things up, you bend at the waist and leave the knees straight. Oh and keep your heels shoulder width apart; wouldn't want you to lose your balance would we? Also, make sure your swing your arms while you walk to keep your balance; don't hold onto your clothes, be polite and smile to anyone you see, and take your time to read in depth any magazine on your way back making sure not to drop it, hold it firmly with both hands," all with that annoying smirk.
I stand there with my mouth slightly agape listening to all this, I can't believe it’s her. The woman has gone drunk with power. My brain tries to comprehend what the heck is going on and where is she going with all this... My mind somehow sputters out a "Ye-yes, Mmaster..."
Laughing she says, "Good. Now get to it!"
My wrist shifts turning the handle as I open the door. In a haze, I step outside; the "click-click" of my two heels on the pavement as I stand there a bit perplexed just long enough for the apartment door to swing itself shut behind me with a "thud". The wind is gracious enough to remind me of the first directive as a cold breeze envelops my legs and ass.
I dart my head left and right realizing there is no hope of turning around to go in, I try to figure out if there is anyone about, but I don't hear movement and I see no signs. I'm now left with the first dilemma: where are the skirt and panties?
Looking to the right, I see a small sheen on the brick façade leading down behind bushes; beneath the streak I can see a small pile that must be the panties. That's a lost cause.
To the left, I can see the tail of the skirt flittering in the wind at the edge of the side walk; to the left it is!
Taking a few timid steps, wrists out to 'keep my balance' (argh), I see no one about and quickly mince the last few steps I reach it. Darting my head about to look for anyone, my blonde locks flying about, I see no one. I go to kneel down to grab it, but of course nothing happens. Amazingly, no matter how I try, my knees will not give to assist my arms.
I begin to panic as I hear a car in the distance. Taking a deep breath, I resign myself to the all too detailed instructions for such a simple task. Standing before the skirt, I move my left shoe apart from the right with a click of the heel; I feel the conspiratory wind tickling my lips cooling the too damp skin. With a feat only reserved for gymnasts, strippers, and porn stars, I bend my body in half to reach for the skirt as a blusterous day gust tantalizing my lips causes me to gasp.
With the cloth firmly in hand, I stand bolt upright and 'dash' as best I can in the heels to the shadows of our breezeway, throwing my body up against the wall for some mild form of hiding.
I can hear a car hit the speed bumps announcing it’s at the corner to this section of the apartment maze, as a slink a bit further into the shadows holding my skirt over my midsection. Thankfully, it continues on it’s marry way with nary an indicator of my existence.
At this moment, my lungs remind me that I can breathe and a quick exhale escapes my lips as I begin panting.
Addressing the next task I look down at the heels & skirt, take a deep breath, and request my left knee to rise. My formerly contentious knee rose without resistance, so obviously my body movements are not always my own. Glancing around quickly, I try to calm my breath, pull my leg up, push the skirt down, and slide my shoe into the skirt. This quickly lead to a forceful lesson reminding me just how foreign my clothing was as my shoe reflexively went to return to the concrete to relieve its partner, the spike of the heel caught the waistband and quickly ripped the clothing from my hand.
Staring down in disbelief, I see the skirt yet again on the ground and a replay of what I've already gone through goes through my head. My heart races as I realize what is about to take place. Swallowing to try to do something to relieve my stress somehow, I force the realization through my head that it’s now or never.
Taking a deep breath, I spread my heels to either side of the skirt, and lean down between my thighs, as I feel my cheeks rub against the façade I can make out the tickling of my lips against the wall as I finally reach my objective.
Grasping hold of the cloth, I stand back upright as I try to continue this again. Three more times I find my feet spread and leaning over to retrieve the skirt as my body is shaking from fear that any moment someone is going to find me or the trail leading down my leg sent from my quivering lips indicating how much this has excited me.
Finally on the fifth attempt, the waistband reaches my quaking knees. Taking just a moment to congratulate myself at such a simple task, I let a quick giggle escape my lips before sighing to relieve some exasperation. Knowing that I am still way too exposed I complete the last step and pull the waistband to my waist, exhaling with completion and a silly grin on my face.
However, the grin quickly slid from my face as I look to my right where the soaked remnants of the panties remain and I'm reminded that is all is needed & a much more daunting task remains.
With extreme trepidation and a deep sigh, I push myself off of the wall to stand freely on my shaky knees and begin the trek across the complex. Leaving my hands to swing, I take the first torturous step as my thighs remind me of the deep soaking they're receiving and the unobstructed air tickles my nether lips. Looking behind me, I can see a shine left behind as I whimper and try to accelerate away on this task.
Moving as quickly as I can, I hear the clop-clop-clop of my heels on the winding path around my complex. Dreading seeing anyone, I take as many side paths as I can avoiding the parking lot when suddenly I hear a whistle and look up realizing I've found myself next to the pool of all places!!! Looking at the source of the whistle, I notice the two inhabitants of the area are a couple of lads who can't be much more than college age staring at me with lust in their eyes. Reflexively I smile and wave 'politely' as I continue on as quickly as I can.
"Oh, you don't have to go, angel cakes," one shouts out, "you can swim with me."
Finding myself not able to 'rudely ignore' him apparently, I turn my head to smile over my shoulder and shout "I'm terribly sorry, but I am in a hurry. Perhaps later." And as I politely wave, Murphy's wind apparently decides to intrude and gust swiftly from behind flipping up my skirt. Realizing that I can't stop the rear flashing, my cheeks flush red and I attempt to quicken my pace.
"Hot damn!" they both shout. "Oh sweet cheeks," the second guy shouts, "at least shake that naked ass if you're going to walk away."
I'm not sure how this could be considered what's needed to be polite, but my ass starts to shake viciously side to side as I quickly escape around the corner along the path between two buildings almost hyperventilating as my thighs are practically drenched.
Tripping out from between the buildings, I spot the mailbox hut just across a few parking rows. Walking under a covered parking spot, I glance quickly from side to side to make sure no cars are coming, as I quickly dart across the driveway, reaching the hut.
Suddenly, a simple little fact enters my scattered and distracted brain: I don't have the key! Crap!!
Well, I could wander all the way back to the apartment, but the front desk is next door. It's Saturday, so Debbie should be at the front desk; she'd be easier to deal with than running into the two swimmers. At least she won't be leering at me.
So with a quick skip, I move around the corner to the rear of the visitor's center and find the doorway in. Grasping the door and pulling on it, I'm reminded how well they sealed this place up. Pulling forcefully, the door finally gives way and a gust of wind pushes out tossing my skirt in the air. Gasping a yelp at the shrill thrill the air conditioned wind gives my heated clit, I pause for a moment to regain my composure and let my skirt settle down thankful no one was observing it.
Clicking along on my heels, I navigate the residents' hallway to the front desk and come around the corner nearly running directly into the cheerful face of Debbie.
"Oh, Stacey! I was hoping those were your heels I was hearing!" Debbie remarked looking up at me through her hair. "You always have the hottest heels; I just find it amazing you can even walk in them."
Passing on the oddity of her comment as Stacey almost never wore heels but seeing her smile, I return a requisite mirror and blush just a bit before replying, "Thank you so much, sweetie! Umm... I hate to bother you, but I was just going to check our mail when I realized I left my mailbox key in our apartment. Could I borrow a spare for a moment?"
"Hehe. Blonde moment, huh?" jabbed the cute little brunette.
"Ya, I'm sorry. If it’s not a trouble, I'd be very thankful," I said as I twirled a blonde loch and bit my lip in apprehension.
I noticed Debbie staring up at the twirl as she inhaled a bit deeper than necessary. I'm sure there was least an eternity before she finally broke her gaze (but more like 2 seconds) and said, "Oh! uh, sure, hun! Let me just, ya, get that for you." And with a start she dipped her head down and slinked around the corner.
I stood there absently mindedly twirling my fingers, suddenly realizing the air conditioned air was causing the liquid between my thighs to quickly cool & I slowly slid my legs back and forth trying to warm them up.
Closing my eyes and focusing on warming my thighs, I slowly swayed trying to increase the friction. Suddenly, my focus is broken as I hear her gasp as she walks back in. I open my eyes to see her standing slightly slack jaw glancing around and waving her blouse.
"um, uh... here's that key," she stammers out while holding out the small key. I can see she must have been flustered by my wanton rubbing; she must think I'm a real hussy.
"Oh uh, thanks," I squeak out in response to grab the key as I blush from the wriggling waist I must have been showing off.
"I'll bring it back when I'm done," I say as I drop the key in the only compartment I can think of a girl without a purse has and place it inside my shirt along my breast.
Staring at my lewd action, Debbie stammered out, "ya, fine. um, great," looking up at my eyes I see what must be her sales girl smile they're trained to use regardless of how bad their client is, "look forward to it".
Blushing further, I turn quickly to head out the front door to the mailroom. However, halfway there, I hear the *tink, tink, tink* of metal on hard floor. Glancing down, see the damn key fell through my shirt onto the floor. "Dammit!" I would love to know how girls get that to actually work.
Without thinking, I bend down to retrieve the key; its only when I hear the squeak behind me, I realize: my legs are spread wide and I'm bent all the way over at my waist. Glancing back between my ankles, I see Debbie standing behind me, her neck & cheeks red, looking right at my skirt. Or, crap! Right where my skirt is pulled up over.
My lips involuntary quiver as I realize I'm completely exposed to that sweet, young girl! I'm such a tramp.
Griping the key and bolting up right I swish out the door as fast as I can shouting, "Bye!" behind me and shuffle down the sidewalk as quick as I can with these ungodly heels.
Behind me, I hear a click of the door lock and I glance back to see the Open sign turn to "Will be back" by a ghostly hand. I must have scared her off... probably went to go find her boss to complain; I can see the police report now.
I figure I better finish this up now, while I still can. I get to the mailbox and realize the next annoying challenge. There is the damn mailbox..... all the way down at the bottom. That damn bitch knew that exactly when she said how to bend over before.
Sighing, realizing this is my fate, I push my feet aside and looking around behind me, take out the key and say a silent prayer. Finally with a last deep breath, I bend over at the waist and slide the key in. Turning it, I pull it out and see the overfilled contents. "Crap," I sigh.
The damn wind conspires again as a gust reminds me of my predicament as the cooling causes a twinge between my thighs.
I reach into the box and try to pull it out, but it holds firmly to the girth that were shoved firmly in by the resident mailman. Grabbing the magazine that was wrapped around everything else firmly with both hands, I tighten it up and pull firmly; once, twice, thrice. I feel the skirt sway with every tug; its edges tickling much higher than I would like, taunting me telling just what is exposed without even looking.
Finally, the metal jaw lets loose its cold grip of the post and my precarious stance exemplifies just why no lady should do this as I feel my weight thrown backwards. With the weight now on the back of my heels the spikes dig into the concrete effectively locking them in place, preventing me sliding either foot back to catch my balance. Feeling the shift move backwards, I quickly try to strain my back muscles to thrust my upper body vertically; however, the shifting mammary weight and the already backward moment seem to just fling me backwards.
I was quickly glad to feel the extra padding in place because I landed almost squarely on my derriere with my spine almost straight upward with an almost audible slap followed by a sharp yelp which would probably call a squeak if I were being honest with myself. I could feel the course texture of the concrete on my clit causing an almost pleasurable feeling and a quick tensing of my body. As I was distracted by the odd sensations, I felt my momentum continue in a rotation backwards my back quickly fell into the grass. My legs locked in relative position from tensing and hoping to keep from falling backwards, my stiletto adorned feet flew upward and left quite a remarkable view against the soft blue sky.
At this point, I quickly realized that this position left the skirt high up my waist and my entire crotch exposed to anyone looking at the heels waving in the air as almost a beckon. Feeling the sun beat down on what should be covered, I quickly tossed my hands down to thrust the hem back to covering what little modesty it can provide. As my head quickly darted around to try to see if anyone was noticing me, I could feel my hair wiping around blinding my eyes, panting heavily.
Not seeing anyone around, I did not want to wait around to see if someone would show up, so I quickly stood up. Dusting myself off, I took one more look around and went to pick up the pile of letters I had frantically dropped on the ground before. Of course, I couldn't just pick it up; that would be too easy and quick. Still panting and seeing yet another moist spot on the concrete where I had fallen, I took a deep breath, assumed the position and quickly bent over, coming back up with the pile of post.
Coming up quickly, I returned back to the metal door that was my tormentor. Bending over to flash the world yet again, I reach down to close the door and lock it back. I heard a car coming, but of course the key wouldn't turn smoothly. Continually trying, but the damn one would still not rotate back no matter how frantically I wiggled even as I heard an approach. Just as I get it the key turned, I hear tires smacking a curb and a car jostling harshly.
Standing up quickly, I spun around to see what the commotion was. Driving along with a rather distracted and flush looking man, darting his eyes back and forth at me was a Chevy pickup. With one final glance back at me, he looked back at me with a large smile and winked; I felt my whole body flush with embarrassment and a tingle between my legs. Quickly, I averted my eyes and opened the magazine to begin my trek back with hopefully decidedly less interceptions.
Realizing that trying to take the back paths was not advantageous after all, I quickly began to just walk in the most direct route I could my face staring down into the only magazine in the lot to try to avoid recognition with anyone. My pulse was pounding so hard and trying to focus on my hearing so much, it must have been at least 200 yards before my brain finally registered what I was looking at.
There before me in the center of my focus, for all its glory, was the swollen, cut member of the well endowed Mr. June. Frantically closing the magazine, I see that somehow there was an edition to "Playgirl" delivered to our box. More over, it was addressed to Stacey, but she had never once subscribed to anything like this.
All too quickly, the compulsion from my earlier directives force me to open it. While several agonizing steps back to the apartment continued to be punctuated by the natural lubrication running down my thighs and the constant thrusting of the wind lifting my skirt for any passer by, I was self compelled to stare at the nude male specimens before me. Without being able to avert my eyes from the publication, I couldn't tell how much my nemesis of a blow hard the wind was really exposing my uncovered ass to, nor could my ears alert me to any gasps or traffic from anyone around as the click-click-click of my heels and pounding of my heart drowned out anything except for the constant punishment of the wind against my ears.
With a final step, I reached my apartment, half expecting it to be locked, I turned the handle, only to have the door actually give way under my weight as dead bolts were not offering any resistance. Literally, falling into the safety of the apartment, spilling my paper cargo on the floor, I begin panting as I do not know when the last time I actually afford myself the luxury of a breath.
Realizing I was still on all fours with a door still exposing me to the world, I reached by with my pump and shoved the door closed. Safety at last, I collapsed into the floor crying as I let the flood of emotions out.
I don't know how long I exactly remained there nearly balling, but I suddenly realized that my spouse was nowhere in our house. Or at the very least never, made her presence known.
"Sir?" I blurted out.
No response.
"Sir? I finished my task and got the mail," I repeated a bit louder, but was still not treated to any sound.
Standing up, I left my cargo where it lie and brushed down the excuse for clothing, "Master?!?", I shouted as I continued back to our bedroom without any form of a retort.
Finally reaching there, I see a small pile of items on the foot of the bed accompanied by a small note.
Picking up the note, the first few lines clearly state my day is nowhere near done:
- Dear "stacey",
Well, you finally made it home, so here's your next assignment....
Up Next "Chapter 9 -- Poolside Peril"...
< prev | next >
.jpg)
+393+Armed+and+Ready.jpg)
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDelete