Christmas Milk.

[passionpainnpleasure]

As a Milkman I oftentimes find myself delivering milk before most
people even get up. As such, you tend to find people in their most
interesting . . . shall we say, attire. You are there when they least
expect you, and when they seldom even notice your presence. At
Christmas time each year, people are often generous with gifts for the
milkman, tips, cookies, cakes, even gloves or maybe a knit hat. As a
Senior in High School I had been running the milk route for two years,
and it was my third Christmas, so I had gotten to know most of my
customers quite well.

As the week progressed, I gathered the usual items . . . Then
Christmas came and went . . . Then the Monday after Christmas, as I
neared the end of my route, the door suddenly opened as I bent to put
the milk in the box. "Oh! Micah!" Came the startled remark. "You
scared me!"

"Sorry Mrs. D. . . . " I replied as I picked up the milk to hand it
to my vice principal's wife. As I looked at her, she was standing
there in a short robe and a Santa hat, not looking startled at all.

"I forgot your Christmas present this year Micah, but it's still
here. Come on in and I'll give it to you."

With some reservation, I entered their house. At school, her husband
and I did not always see eye to eye. Yet, his wife was very
pretty . . . She was blonde, about 5'6," full figured and in great
shape for her being between 30 and 35-years-old and having two kids.
She had me follow her into the living room, where the tree still
flickered with its Christmas cheer. As she bent over to pick through
the gifts, her robe slid up revealing a beautiful ass that was covered
only by a small black bikini bottom. Her legs were placed just far
enough apart to allow a view of the pussy line beneath the scant
fabric. I looked down the hall nervously, her husband recently
discharged from the Marines, was 6'6" and 250 lbs., and this scene was
all that he would need to rip my head off . . . She dug through the
toys and ties, torturing me with her ass and the whiplash I was
getting looking down the hall.

After what seemed to be an eternity, although I'm sure that it really
was no more than a minute, she squealed "Here it is!" too loud for a
sleeping house at 5:00 A.M. She then straightened up and turned
toward me with nothing but the belt of her robe in her hands. As her
robe fell open she shrugged her shoulders letting it fall to the
floor. My eyes couldn't believe that this woman was standing in front
of me wearing nothing but a tiny black bikini that was barley covering
her 38-30-38-figure. WOW! I took a step backwards, rubber-necking
the hall and the bedroom door, knowing that either I was in heaven or
I was about to die in some sort of highschool hell.

Mrs. D. giggled, "It's OK, Lorenzo took the kids skiing for three
days." Her blonde hair hung loosely about her shoulders, wearing that
red Santa hat and black bikini definitely grabbed my full attention.
"I'm sorry that I missed you before, but let me unwrap it for you."
She reached behind her back releasing the catch, then to her neck
leaving the strings over her shoulders. As she came toward me, she
shimmied her chest like a professional stripper and away fell her
top. She walked over to me with her melon size breasts swaying ever
so slightly showing off her hard, pink nipples. "You look cold . . .
Let me warm your cheeks." With that, she reached up and gently pulled
my face into her breasts warming my cold cheeks and nose. "Now how do
you like your Christmas tip?"

I kissed her erect nipples and told her that it was the best ever.
"You haven't seen anything yet . . ." She purred into my ear. I
started to peal off my clothing when she stopped me. "Let me do it!"
Then slowly, at a rate that was designed to drive this teenager wild,
she slid my clothing off of my nubile young body, nibbling as she
went. When at last I stood there wearing nothing but my shorts and a
smile Mrs. D. stepped back and admired her work.

My shorts were being pushed to their limit by my hard cock. She
reached down giving it a squeeze before leading me, dick in hand, to
an easy chair where she had me sit down. She then stepped toward the
tree once again, stopping at the stereo. "This song always turns me
on." Mrs. D. told me as Sinatra crooned "White Christmas." She
danced slowly dropping her final article of clothing. As she pulled
the black cloth from her blonde patch glistened in the flickering
lights, she came to the chair pulling me to a standing position before
finally pulling my shorts off.

She then took me in her mouth, sliding my eager cock down her throat,
where it immediately exploded. She took my thrusts and swallowed the
full load. As I tried to apologize, she stopped me and said, "I
expected that. Now we can have some real fun!"

At an age when most guys wanted only to get a piece of ass, I loved to
eat pussy, and was beginning to get a rep amongst the girls for doing
so. Mrs. D. moaned with delight as my long tongue slid down her
thighs and across her clit. Her wet pussy tasted like a dream! As I
licked deeper, she clamped her thighs around my head pulling my face
further in as she came all over my face.

She collapsed upon the floor, spent for a minute. That is when I
heard a rumble in the background . . . I had left my delivery truck
parked on the street, running. I jumped up and started to get dressed
when I heard "Where are you going so fast?"

"Sorry Mrs. D. but I have to finish my route!" I said as I pulled on
my pants.

She stood up and slipped her robe back on. "Can you come back later?"

I assured her that I would, if I could. She saw me to the door and
turned to kiss me directly upon the lips. She said, "One more thing
before you go . . ." To this day I'm not sure how she did it but in
one swift motion she grabbed my pants and pulled them down to my
knees, sliding my cock into her mouth and bringing it to immediate,
full attention. She then slipped off and sucked my balls into her
mouth, before sliding her tongue up the underside of my cock. Pulling
my pants back over it, she replied, "Now I'm sure that you'll come
back!" Having said that, she shoved me out the door.

I climbed into the old milk truck and looked back at the livingroom
window where Mrs. D. stood wearing nothing but the Santa hat and a
smile, knowing full well that I would be back . . .