I woke as I usually did
Tightened up my roller blades
And went about my route
Delivering papers
That was my chore
I was an older paper boy
Paper man if you will
We had exchanged glances
On and off regularly
She fancied my roller blades
7016 at the top of the hill
She was a young retired skater
Whose quirkiness attracted me
We started to talk
More as the days went by
I got to know her
Comfortable in her ways
She was interested
In a twenty something year old paper man
Not much older herself
It wasn’t my only job
It was a side thing for sure
But it was what it was
Which brought me to her
We flirted, why not?
Enjoying it immensely
But the professional I am
I had a route to deliver!
I remember one time
She asked me to help her with her hair
She had fascinating clamps
To hold her hair in there
They were clips
That were held with bolts
Needing to be tightened
Her hair was parted down the middle
Strictly, thin hair
Cut a few inches above her shoulders
Dyed, always a new catchy colour
Two short and cute pig tails
Which she spun in towards themselves
In an upside down heart
Then up the middle
Were they were clamped into place
Contact is a beautiful thing
A heart racing against my heart
I felt it, she felt it
She invited me over one day
She was aggressive like that
Which explains why she was
So comfortable topless
I was shy, what do you do?
I’m not used to that
Try to fit in, just act casual
Tea was on the menu
I like mine with sugar
We talked and flirted
An old china cup was delivered
Her house smelled like lilacs
She was pure coconut with passion
Dancing about the room
Graceful steps was dancing to me
Telling me of stories she had once lived
I leafed through the books on her shelf
Many I had read, bookworm I am
I was in a corner
Trapped without chains
She wandered over to me
She was topless, of course
Big black panties
The kind that come up past a bellybutton
But, underneath them she had on a thong
As she wandered over to me
She was fumbling in them
Head cranked around, hands all jumbled up
Confusion on her face
With me watching unashamed
She turned around
And pushed her bum into my crotch
It was more like her bum
Into my thighs
She was a shorter, fiery girl
Fumbling with her thong
Acutely pointing her bum
And asked me if I could help her
Straighten out her panty line
There is something about that first moment
When your hand touches the skin of a lover
Especially around their hips… a soft stomach
Something magically innocent in those moments
Enough to erupt a thousand spitting volcanoes
And tingle the tips of toes with an excited sensation
Quivering the knees while reaching out for more