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Image for the poem Mail Chute

Mail Chute

Originally posted in May of 2013 under a different nom de plume, Lerd Goin
 
Walking down the dimly lit tenth floor corridor. The musty smell of the ancient, stained red carpet has me pondering the bygone relevance of this time-worn San Francisco office building. Approaching the elevators I grin at the ornate brass mail slot on the wall evoking visions of the bustling basement mail room from an overly optimistic 1940's movie.
 
Turning to press the down button I am startled to see a woman standing nearby. She  greets me with a warm smile. Our eyes meet and I am filled with a sudden rush of joy. “It still works you know” she says in a sexy-sweet tone. I grasp for a response but I haven’t a clue what she’s talking about. “The mail chute” she explains. I guess she had seen me studying the slot. Not thinking of anything more intelligent or witty to say I blurt out “oh really.”
 
Never have I been so immediately captivated by a woman. Wearing a short thin cotton Summer dress. The outline of her curvaceous figure excites me. Her fair skin is radiant and she is wearing almost no makeup. A calming appearance of earthiness accentuates her seemingly ebullient personality...a free spirit for sure. Her presence seems to dispel the surrounding dingy gloom
 
The elevators doors open. As we enter she says, “I can show you where the letters go” I stutter sh-sh-sure I guess I mean I need to be getting back to...”oh it won’t take long” she says. We ride to the basement. She opens the door to a small room furnished only with a letter bin, some shelves and a sorting table. The mail chute emerges from the ceiling and extends to just above the bin.
 
“I’ll show you how it works, okay?” I say “great” even though I’m pretty sure that I have a certain knowledge of gravity. “I am going up to the 15th floor where I’ll drop in a letter and you watch the bin to see how long it takes to fall.” She quickly exits leaving me alone at my post.
 
Five maybe six minutes pass and an object falls from the shoot. I look in the bin and almost pass out. Instead of a letter there is a pair of blue, lace cheecky panties. I grab them and feel that they are still a little warm and definitely moist. Not even thinking I bring them to my nose and breath in the delicious scent of my new friend.
 
With my special delivery still shoved under my nose she appears in the doorway. “I see you got my message” she almost whispers. I stand before her a little embarrassed at the prominent bulge in my crotch. With mock surprise she says “Oh and look, you’ve got a package for me...you shouldn’t have. Can I open it now?”
 
Without waiting for a response she falls to her knees, yanks down my zipper and removes my cock, now swollen to its full length. With lusty excitement she takes me between her glistening lips. I shudder as she licks my favorite spot under the head. Her mouth feels so good gliding along my rigid manhood. She brings me to the brink of sweet release when she withdraws her mouth and says “Its your turn to put something in my slot.”
 
I lift her onto the table and she pulls up her dress. I am overwhelmed by this experience and I almost shed tears of elation when I see her pink, wet labia inviting me in for a visit. I run my tongue along the slick folds and find the treasured clit waiting for my kisses. She moans her approval as she pinches her now exposed nipples top glorious globes. The heady aroma matching that of the panties urges me on. “I want to feel you inside me” she says in a slightly urgent voice. I immediately comply, gently sliding myself into her land of enchantment. Now that I’m in her home it feels so right and I have a thrilling sense of deja vu.
 
In perfect synchronicity we approach orgasm. Her moans crescendo as she begins to convulse. I slide out just in time to explode all over her tummy. The tingling sensation is magical and I wish it could continue forever.  With some tissue from her purse she cleans me off of her. She smiles as she sniffs the cum soaked tissue. Climbing down from the table she falls into my waiting arms. We lovingly embrace. She looks up at me smiling and says “hi, my name is Jessica what’s yours?”
Written by Gahddess_Worship (Osomajestuoso)
Published
Author's Note
I was told once, by a good friend that this was a tad juvenile. You be the judge. I enjoyed revisiting that encounter with a fantasy scenario. The real story is related in "Could Have Been Lover." The description of the building and the mail chute are true observations as are her stunning smile and cheerful demeanor. The rest is the result of wild, unchecked cogitation.
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/299105-could-have-been-lover/
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