The Postman

The postman in our neighborhood always rides a bicycle on his route. When it is warm, he has on shorts that accentuate his muscular, tanned legs. His short sleeved shirt is usually damp with sweat by the time he gets to my house. He arrives, like clockwork, at 10:30 am every day.

I have my sofa backed up to the large picture window at the front of my living room. My mailbox is right next to the window. Each morning I see the postman as he rides his bike right past the window to deposit what mail he has for me. I have gotten used to the routine and barely give it any notice. One day, I was viewing porn online. My computer screen was facing the window. I had lost track of the time and had my cock in hand, massaging it and squeezing some precum from the swollen head. As I licked the precum from my hand, I noticed movement behind me. The postman had ridden up behind me while I was “preoccupied” with self gratification!

Without a sound and with no noticable emotion, the postman delivered the mail and backed his bicycle off of the porch and rode on with his route. I hadn’t had enough time to try and cover up my actions. I thought that he probably saw as much or more from windows every day. I always notice him stopped at homes, talking to men and women that live there. He has been on the route for a long time. Who knows what he has been privy to over the years. I decided it was nothing to concern myself with and I went on with my day.

Over the next few days, I made sure I was not viewing porn when the postman came by. I would either be reading or watching tv. There is a good reflection in the tv screen that gives me a clear indication if someone is in the window behind me. Each day, I noticed the postman would pause breifly to view the inside of the house, then deposit my mail and slowly back away. I began to realize that he was curious about whether I was going to be masturbating again. I decided to test my theory.

The following morning I made sure I was all set.