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উত্তর দিন > Fog of Lust, Beginning

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[quote][b]adele লিখেছেন:[/b][nl]Fog of Lust, Beginning Continued..[nl][nl]I slip it on just as the doorbell rings. Oh, darn.[nl][nl]I go downstairs and peek through the side light at the front door. I see it's Sam the postman. He's early. He's cute in an older guy way. Anyway, he's always friendly and polite. I like him, he's fun too.[nl][nl]He appears to have a wad of mail and the signing pad thing, he probably wants a signature. He got me to sign for a Valentine once.[nl][nl]I open the door with a bright smile. Hi Sam![nl][nl]"Hello Miss Lisa." he replies.[nl][nl]His eyes travel over me, head to toe and back. This is his usual once over. I almost giggle. It makes me think of an X-ray or body scan when he looks at me. It's the same every time.[nl][nl]When I first met him, my impulse was that he's weird, but time as well as a very thorough background done by Eric, my IT guy, has proven him to be just fine.[nl][nl]There's a grown son in Nashville and a small terrier named Trix. He lives a quiet life. No red flags.[nl][nl]After two years, I have come to expect his very thorough perusal or inspection, I really like it when he gives me a nod of approval.[nl][nl]Sam hands me a stack of mail before producing the signature thing clasped under his arm.[nl][nl]I clutch the mail under my arm and balance the gadget or pad whatever it's called, clumsily doing my best to make a scribble.[nl][nl]He could help by holding his thing for me, I think, but don't say.[nl][nl]Wait, why am I signing, he just handed me my mail. He's tricked me again.[nl][nl]"Thank you." I say, moving to close the door.[nl][nl]"Wait there's more!" Now he sounds like the Apple guy.[nl][nl]I watch him lumber to his truck. Then he wheels a large box from the back of his mailman truck.[nl][nl]He says, "It's a big one. I will need to help you with this one."[nl][nl]He slowly lifts the package and takes a few steps toward me.[nl][nl]"You need to feel this thing, I don't have any idea what it could be." he says stepping through the door.[nl][nl]I stretch my arms to get them around it, surprised he doesn't let go.[nl][nl]"Are you ready? Got a good grip?" He asks.[nl][nl]I pull the box close, expecting the weight. I'm squeezing his hands against my chest. I expect him to turn the box loose but he doesn't.[nl][nl]"Loosen up a little, my hands are caught." Sam says, chuckling. "I was just kidding, it's not that heavy."[nl][nl]The box is tall. I can't see over the top of it. Sam was probably taking the weight. I think he just wanted to show off his manly strength. But I almost stumble, prepared for weight that isn't there.[nl][nl]His eyes widen when I look up, the jokes on me.[nl][nl]"Sam!" I grin, "you're messing with me!"[nl][nl]He teases me with his X-ray look, giving me the once over with a grin. Sam likes to tease. Acting like he can get away with anything. He can be such an ass, but I put up with his bull as usual.[nl][nl]I study the box. It's light as a feather, feels empty.[nl][nl]Why did he pull that on me? Holding on instead of just giving it to me. Another of his silly flirtations.[nl][nl]"Sam! why are you always pretending with me? I'm laughing and he is too.[nl][nl]I study his face for a few seconds, trying to put on a stern face, but that's impossible, I'm laughing again. Then my mind does the overdrive thing, analyzing this situation. I probably get that funny look that John teases me about when he knows my mind has gone somewhere else.[nl][nl]Yes, I surprised him, pulling the box so tight. I wonder if he felt anything? I was certainly aware of my lack of a bra, I could feel his hands. Did I squeeze more?[nl][nl]Really? My mind is spinning with thoughts of motives and questions.[nl][nl]I did not do it on purpose, did I? No, not at the outset, but how do you analyze the fraction of a second when intention changes? Did he start out to set me up? Was that his original purpose?[nl][nl]Oh, yeah, I'm suspicious, life has been full of misinterpreted motives and reasons.[nl][nl]My suspicion increases, Did my sweet postman... Did Sam cop a feel?[nl][nl]OMG! He did! I feel the Fog.[nl][nl]Wait, I'm not pissed... if anything, I'm what?, I don't know.[nl][nl]No, that's not right... surely not. But, he has an interesting look on his face as I set the box down and lean to read the label.[nl][nl]"Feels like an empty box to me." he observes.[nl][nl]Studying the label doesn't reveal much, it's mostly smeared. I can't even make out the address, much less the sender. Suspicion grows. How did the box find it's way here with a smeared address?[nl][nl]"What do you think?" Sam asks. He squats down.[nl][nl]I ignore him, Carefully examining the few smeared lines. No clue to the content.[nl][nl]"You gonna open it?"[nl][nl]"Maybe..."[nl][nl]"Ever heard of a company called Incidentals?" Sam's eyebrows raise.[nl][nl]"Nope."[nl][nl]"You need my knife?"[nl][nl]"Yep."[nl][nl]"Here, want me to slice it?"[nl][nl]I look up. He's looking down. The fact that I pretend not to notice where he's looking convicts me of lying to myself.[nl][nl]I take the knife. Sam is watching closely.[nl][nl]I glance up again, he is still looking down.[nl][nl]I know what's going on. The question is, what to do. The Fog feels thicker. What to do?[nl][nl]The idea of calmly allowing the postman to what... Look down your dress?[nl][nl]I don't know, I'm not sure. Maybe I'm imagining. Lisa, who are you kidding?[nl][nl]I stand up and tell him I'll open it later.[nl][nl]"Well, OK." He sounds disappointed.[nl][nl]I wonder why the disappointment?[nl][nl]Because he can't look down my dress? Disappointed because he wants to know what is in the box?[nl][nl]I'm not sure. Yeah, you are. I do know he was curious about the contents.[nl][nl]After bringing the box in. I watch him leave. I leave the damned box in the foyer and quickly go up my the bedroom.[nl][nl]The vanity stool is similar height as the box. Am I obsessing, yes? I place the stool in front of the mirror on the back of the closet door.[nl][nl]My eyes on the mirror, I lean over the small stool. Damn, my breasts are right there, no doubt. My nipples stiffen as I lean farther. The weight of the drawstring just opens the neck right up.[nl][nl]Sam the postman just helped himself to an open view of my breasts. The neck of the dress falls open up like the curtain of a stage show. The actress in the show is me![nl][nl]I'm embarrassed, slightly. Sort of, but not really. The tingling sensation below my navel is pronounced.[nl][nl]Letting Sam look down my dress gave me a thrill, no question. I could have prevented it, but didn't. The mental fog changed the situation. This is something I have been having serious thoughts about. I haven't found any research on it. Surely. I can't be the only person to recognize the way a situation can change a person.[nl][nl]I sit on my stool, staring into the mirror like I sometimes do when I'm feeling edgy. It helps a little, not much. Reviewing the scene. What about his fingers? I'm being fair. The material is so thin. I reach up and move my hands over my chest. This is very thin fabric. Even the backs of my hands heel details. After studying the effects for a few minutes, there is no doubt. I'm not embarrassed to say my nipples are like erasers and I may take this personal exploration farther.[nl][nl]That rascal, I thought he just 'played' like the dirty old man! I'm the one that got fooled, he got a sneaky feel.[nl][nl]I listen for that quiet small voice within; that's why I'm sitting here. Waiting for a revelation about how the Fog works. I know brain chemistry is involved, but the trigger eludes me.[nl][nl]My room is quiet, the only sound is the clock. No comment from the voice.[nl][nl]My mind replayed the front door escapade. Now it seems extended, longer.[nl][nl]Were his fingers moving before pulling away.[nl][nl]I'm imagining my nipples caught between fingers. That wasn't exactly how it happened, so I catch my nipples between my own fingers to be sure. My nipples grow erect and sensitive just imagining. What the hell, Lisa! That was out loud! I am sitting here twisting and pulling my nipples.[nl][nl]I wonder how I will act when it happens again? Wait, what! When it happens again. How can it happen again. No way! It will not happen again![nl][nl]Yeah, but what if it does? How will I act? What will I do? When it will happen again! This isn't thinking, this is crazy imagination. I pull harder. Face it Kiddo! Fantasy, that's what this is.[nl][nl]Fantasizing about a helpless situation, about being touched, helpless, no control... I lay back on the bed. Remembering my escapade with the Postman. Now I'm acting in some kind of an erotic play. I can still feel long fingers slowly moving over my stiff nipples. I get warm just remembering the sensation.[nl][nl]He wasn't doing it on his own, he is innocent[nl][nl]I wasn't letting him, it happened accidentally. I'm innocent too.[nl][nl]Who am I kidding, I let it happen, even helped, I liked it and will help make it happen again. Nope, Don't think that. It was an accident. I had no control. I am blameless, that's part of the key.[nl][nl]John might come by this afternoon. This is another escapade will NOT know about. Maybe I can create a little fog with him. Just to relieve some of this pressure. It won't be the same, it won't be an accident. I won't be innocent, or blameless. So why does that not sound as exciting? I have lost my mind.[nl][nl]I take a deep breath. I pick out some cute sandals and get my self out the door for some shopping. I will be alert for the slightest sign of mental fog and run the other direction. What a morning. Driving away from the house, I wish I had gone farther on my own. Exploring my breast has left me somewhat horny. Did I just say that? Yes![nl][nl]Monday[nl][nl]I called in for a personal day.[nl][nl]My iPad reminds me the exterminator will show up around 10am, so I have plenty of 'Me time'. I pull one of John's t-shirts and go downstairs. In the kitchen I make dry toast and coffee to take out back on the patio. I finish and put the cup and plate in the dishwasher. Heading up stairs to, dress for the day. I'm seriously thinking of wearing the same dress again, it's so comfortable and cool. I take the first step when the doors rings.[nl][nl]Let it ring and go change? Or answer the door. I pad barefoot to the door. Through this sidelight, it's Sam.[nl][nl]"Good Morning." I say brightly.[nl][nl]He hands me a stack of mail and peers around into the foyer. The two boxes sit right where we left them.[nl][nl]"I see you haven't opened those yet." raising his brow.[nl][nl]Nosy bastard, He is doing the X-ray thing. I can almost feel his eyes doing the inspection. He give me the nod of approval and I smile.[nl][nl]"Nope, haven't had a chance yet."[nl][nl]"I'll be glad to help." he replies, eyeing the boxes.[nl][nl]I hesitate for a second, trying to sense the presence of that foggy feeling.[nl][nl]"Sure, I can use your help."[nl][nl]'Do they make you nervous? Or froghtened maybe?"[nl][nl]"No, just been busy. Come on in."[nl][nl]He steps inside and closes the door.[nl][nl]I'm standing there wearing John's old t-shirt, and nothing else. As soon as that thought registers, I can feel that fog descending over the situation. My heart speeds up, I have a tight feeling in my stomach and if I was wearing panties, there would be a damp spot forming.[nl][nl]What is it about this old man that makes me feel this way? But I know it's not him per se. It's the situation.[nl][nl]"Well, lets get to it." He says.[nl][nl]I step behind one, leaning over to push it his way. It's a little late to be thinking that I should have asked him to wait while I change.[nl][nl]I can feel my breast moving under the thin cotton of this worn out t-shirt. It leaves nothing to the imagination. For either of us.[nl][nl]"I'll hold it up and you try to read that label again." He says, lifting the box for me.[nl][nl]"Good idea." I move closer. Am I really going to play this game? My foggy mind asks.[nl][nl]"Let me hold it up and you try to read that tag again." He says. Really? The box with the impossible to read label on top. Yep, this way it makes everything easier. There's no foul here.[nl][nl]"Good idea." I reply. I don't even need to hold on to the box, just lean against it.[nl][nl]"You need to get a grip on it yourself to steady it." It's not a command, but I comply.[nl][nl]I hold the box with one hand as he slowly moves it up and down. He tells me to let him know when it's just right.[nl][nl]I guess any excuse will do, I think as his fingers.. Wait. No, it's the box moving his fingers up and down. O damn, this is feeling way too good.[nl][nl]"Hold still for a second." I say. When the box positions my nipples near his fingers.[nl][nl]I study the tag that is completely illegible. I'm stalling to see if he will move those fingers instead of moving the box. I have my rules now.[nl][nl]"I can't make heads or tales of this writing, must be Greek or Chinese."[nl][nl]"Let's try the other one." he says pulling the box away. He sets it to the side.[nl][nl]I push the other one closer to the middle of the foyer. I try to watch him under my eyelashes. He is not missing the opportunity to look down my shirt. Lucky me, this is one that John cut the neck out of. As usual, he over cut the neck. Sam is staring down my top again.[nl][nl]Sam lifts the next box toward me, "You ready?"[nl][nl]Not surprising, he goes through the up and down movement. With the box. Brushing my breasts and swollen nipples in the process.[nl][nl]"What do you think?" he asks. I don't answer, concentrating on controlling my breathing.[nl][nl]"This one is about the same." I get out.[nl][nl]"Maybe we should just open the darn things." he says. "If you're scared, I can call for backup."[nl][nl]Oh great, all I need is postal backup. I wonder if that would meet my new requirements.[nl][nl]"No, John will be by shortly, I'll let him deal with them. But, Sam, I appreciate your help and concern. You're the best!" I say with a big smile." I think I've made his day.[nl][nl]Mine is definitely off to an unusual start. I wander out to the patio to think about my new requirements. The key, Innocent, Blameless, Seemingly not in control, And most of all Safe.[nl][nl]I lay on the lounger thinking of new possibilities.[nl][nl]After lunch, I go through the house bagging all the trash, the container goes to the street today. I think about changing, but this old t-shirt sure is comfortable and I'm not going anywhere.[nl][nl]When I go through to the garage, I hear the sound of a basketball and then it hitting the backboard above the garage door. Rather than open the big door, I push the container through the side door on the way to the street.[nl][nl]"Hey Miss Smith!" It's Johnny from next door. He uses my goal all the time.[nl][nl]I stop to wave and clap when he swooshes one through the net, not even touching the rim.[nl][nl]"Miss Smith, You up for a little one on one? He asks walking over. "Let me roll this to the street." he says taking the bin. I walk along, asking how summer school is going.[nl][nl]"It's fine, only one more week to go."[nl][nl]"That sounds good, what'cha going to do for the rest of the summer?"[nl][nl]"I've been working down at the pizza store in the evenings, I may be able to get more hours. I don't know for sure yet."[nl][nl]Walking back from the street, he bounces the ball my way, I pop it right back to him. He bounces it harder as we get close to the house.[nl][nl]"Let's see you hit a three pointer!" He says sending the ball back when I get close to the line He and I painted last spring. I catch his pass and shoot. It hits the board and goes in.[nl][nl]"Awesome!" he yells. Dribbling the ball toward me, I know he wants to show off his quick maneuvers. I change my stance and move forward, watching his eyes. I have told him over and over, he has a tell when he does a head fake. Sure enough, I catch it, knock the ball loose and grab it. In a split second he comes back to take it away. I naturally dribble quickly and fool him. When he comes back for it, I realize I could fool him all afternoon. I quickly pass him the ball and tell him I have to go.[nl][nl]Whew, that was close. I know he saw. I hope I left quickly enough. At least I got away before the Fog came rolling in.[/quote]