Sitting with all the lamps off, the only light needed came through the closed window and open blind. Sitting back on her modest couch, in her modest home, she loosened her robe and waited. She knew when he would show up. Slowly closing her eyes, she imagined what he would look like. Having seen him so many times, it didn’t take much of her imagination.
She liked men her junior, and loved the way he wore his early 30s. She was glad he carried the heavy leather satchel of mail on his right shoulder, giving her the better profile when he would ascend her steps in no particular hurry. She often dreamed of how she would like to have him strain above her, using the same strong rhythm on her, as he used to stroke her stairs.
With a picture of him in her mind, her eyes drew completely shut, as she allowed her robe to open. Wasting no time she quickly slid her arms out, and tossed the brave cotton to the side. The crude canvas couch, kissing her bare ass. Slouching, she began to run her guilty hands over creamed skin. Within moments, she peeled one of her hands off her thighs and took hold of her breast. Hoping she could last, she thought less of what might be outside, and seized on what was happening down between her legs. The thought of getting caught had started a fire. The thought of exposing her naked body always made her pussy hot.
