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After 30 years on the same route, the neighborhood postman ran his daily path for the last time - this was to be the day of his retirement. Unbeknownst to him, the neighborhood got wind of his impending departure and each house planned their own little farewell surprise for him. From Mrs. Smith's cookies to the kind words and greeting card, from the Boswell house, it was truly a memorable day. But the last house was the clincher. As he approached the door like he'd done for thirty years, a beautiful woman opened the door wearing nothing but a slinky nightie. Before he could utter a word, she snatched the mail from his hand, took him gently by the arm and led him upstairs to the bedroom. He could only describe what followed as the best and most intense sexual experience of his life, as time and time again she pleasured him in ways he'd never experienced. After all this, she helped him to his feet, helped him dress and led him downstairs to the kitchen table. She then cooked him the most fabulous breakfast of his life: waffles, bacon, fresh fruit, milk, honey, toast - the works. When he could eat no more, she again helped him to his feet and as she showed him to the door, she handed him a new, crisp dollar bill. The postman was taken aback. "Miss, after all your kindness, I really must refuse this money." "Nonsense," she said, "My husband and I insist!" "Husband!?," he questioned. "He knows about this?!" "Yes. It was his idea. When I asked him what we should do for your retirement, he said 'Fuck him. Give him a dollar.'" "But the breakfast was my idea." |