The Postman's last day
Pat has been a faithful civil servant for many years, but today is his last day before retiring. As such, his friends all give him farewells, but the best and most unexpected farewell comes from the most unlikely source.
This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this story are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are of legal and consenting age, likewise if you are reading this story, you should be of legal age in your respective country.
All characters are my own creation, any resemblance to existing characters is purely coincidental and not intentional, please do not use them without permission. If you would like to use them in a story, please feel free to send me a PM either as Inja on SoFurry or TheRealInja on FA. As always, I am open to new story ideas or situations with existing characters as well.
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Foreword: This one is based on this joke.
https://www.reddit.com/r/Jokes/comments/29suxr/the_postmans_last_day/
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Pat Polter sighed wistfully as he stared down Mulberry Avenue, reliving fond memories of his time servicing the community and all the friends he had made over the years. Today was his last day as their postman, come tomorrow morning and he would officially be retired. Pat didn’t look his age, thanks to all the walking and physical requirements of his job, the old boxer still looked in relatively decent shape, but the obvious greying around his muzzle was undeniable. Though he was of tall stature, standing at a modest six foot four, Pat exuded a gentle and friendly nature that instantly put anyone at ease as soon as they saw his warm smile. Over the years, he had become like a fond uncle or grandad to many children along his route. The majority of the families loved him as well, he had an uncanny knack for remembering not only their names, but their birthdays and other important events in their lives as well.
So, it was no surprise when he was stopped at nearly every house by his friends, simply to wish him all the best; most telling him not to be a stranger and to keep in contact. He knew they meant it too; Pat had attended numerous cookouts and parties with these very same people in the years since his dear wife’s passing. The only exception on his route would be the Halstead’s, while they were relatively new along his route, for some reason the husband had taken an immediate disliking toward Pat. Perhaps it was simply because Thomas Halstead was a short and angry little Dachshund, suffering with short man syndrome that he despised the taller boxer simply for making him have to look upwards. Pat remembered the first day they had met, the little black and tan mutt had sneered disdainfully at the older canine, almost doing a burnout as he floored it out of his driveway in a big flashy Mercedes. All Pat had done was wave and say hello with a friendly smile, but the way Thomas had responded, it was as if the old dog had personally shit in his cornflakes.
It was either the size issue, or simply because Thomas was wealthy and lorded it over everyone along Mulberry Avenue. Well, to say he was rich might be stretching the truth, if he was really rich, he would have lived in a gated community at the very least. Thomas was just well off enough to afford a decent house and his wife, Belinda. As understanding and as open minded as he was, even Pat knew Belinda was a trophy wife. She was an infinitely gorgeous Poodle and Afghan mix breed, with long flowing golden hair and a slender figure, with wide hips and a generous bust that defied gravity. Unfortunately, as bright as her dazzling hazel eyes were, Pat was convinced if he listened close enough, there was probably the sound of an old game of Pong bleeping between her ears as the single braincell she possessed ricocheted off the inside of her skull. Pat had once found her sitting out on the patio staring at a bottle of orange just, simply because it said concentrate on the label.
The Halstead’s were the last house on his route and he did not expect much, if anything in the form of a goodbye from them. As expected, Thomas was already out somewhere as his fancy car was not in the driveway, Pat thought he would have a clean getaway of just dropping off their mail and finishing his route for the last time. To his surprise however, when he knocked on their door, Belinda opened it, wearing nothing but a smile. Before Pat could react, the young beautiful woman reached out and grabbed his hand to pull him inside while closing the door behind him. It all happened so fast, the young woman who was even younger than his own daughter was suddenly on her knees before him. In the blink of an eye, Belinda simply grinned up at him as she undid his trousers to fish his stiffening prick from his underwear.
“Ooh, big boy, figures a postman would have a decent package” the pretty young blond chimed before sinking her long slender muzzle down over his growing erection with obvious skill. For a brief moment, Pat felt a twinge of jealousy for Thomas, knowing such an arrogant prick lived with this sort of pleasure. Then again, he wondered why the little turd was always so angry if he had such a skilled beauty living with him, perhaps he really was just a sour little man after all.
“Jeezus Croist!” the old dog huffed and leaned his head back against the Halstead’s front door, his nails scratching against the ornate polished wood. Belinda wasted little time in starting to bob her muzzle along the old dogs surprisingly thick cock with noisy gusto, all while she smiled up at him. Pat was a sixty-five-year-old man and Belinda was what, twenty-three in April? Fuck sakes, her mouth was good, too good, he just couldn’t stop himself from boiling over and soon she received a mouthful of his baby batter to her tonsils. It had been so long since he and his wife had last been intimate, he barely even touched himself these days. Sex just wasn’t that important for him anymore since he had become a widower, so it hardly ever crossed his mind. But having an attractive, naked young woman so willingly felate him, this was the stuff of a young man’s wet dreams.
Belinda licked her lips and smiled up at Pat before she stood to press a kiss to his lips, her soft fingers still wrapped about his softening cock. “Still two holes to go, old man” she playfully teased, giving his suddenly revitalized length an appreciative stroke. Pat followed along behind her, like a sailor caught in a siren’s song, his eyes on her pert, heart shaped ass. The way those cheeks shifted and worked beneath her fluffy tail with every step had him almost drooling, before long they were stood at the foot of the Halstead’s large four poster bed.
Pat’s brows rose as Belinda turned him around, before shoving the old dog backward onto the soft but very comfortable California King mattress. Again, the young woman wasted no time in climbing atop the soon to be retired Boxer mutt, her lips finding his somewhat trembling pair to kiss with a fiery passion. Below he could feel her dainty little hand trying to wrap around his girthy shaft to guide him home, right between the soft petals of her silken embrace. She made the cutest little whimpers while she sunk down onto him, her brow knitting in concentration as she tried to focus on adjusting to his size. A small part of Pat felt a little smug knowing that he was obviously bigger than that loud mouthed Dachshund husband of hers. She felt good though, almost too tight, but not quite. She would feel very vein and curve of his cock as she rode him, without a doubt, slowly at first. Soon enough however, the sultry bitch picked up the pace and began bouncing in his lap with enough force to cause those perfect tits of hers to jiggle and bounce enticingly.
How many times had he imagined what her tits looked like in those tiny tops she wore, but now he suddenly had his face buried in them as she leaned down over him. His hands full of malleable titflesh, roughly groping and fondling them while his hungry lips switched from one nipple to the other and back again. There was no mistaking her pleasure in this carnal act either, he had been married long enough that he well knew the contractions and sensations of a woman in climax. The way the slinky little blond bitch bucked and writhed in his lap, along with the added warmth and slickness, there was no doubting that Belinda had climaxed at least once or twice while riding him, though curiously she made little noise, other than a strangled cry. Perhaps he lasted longer than her husband did too?
Eventually it became too much for the young woman, she all but collapsed into a panting mess beside him. When he looked over at her, she had a faraway stare on her face, with a smile damn near ear to ear. Again, those perfect tits of hers rose and fell with every panting breath she gasped for, enticing the old Postman to reach over and fondle them a little as he waited for her to recover, but eventually it didn’t seem like she was ever going to. She might have been finished for the time being, but after his earlier initial climax, Pat was still a bit away from his next and probably final load. He recalled downstairs in the foyer she had mentioned that there were still two more holes for him to fill, so without prompting or warning, the old flat nosed Boxer rolled the blond bimbo over onto her belly and straddled the backs of her thighs.
“What’re you doing?” Belinda weakly asked, though she didn’t seem intent on stopping him, even when he slapped his hefty length down between her pert little buttocks.
“A good postman never fails in his delivery, even if it means going round back and using the backdoor” he grinned at his own joke. As expected, it flew straight over Belinda’s head. At least until he began to sink his slick thickness under her fluffy tail, feeling the tight little ring of her pucker kiss and then reluctantly swallow his thick red rocket. With how she groaned and clutched at the expensive bedding beneath her, Pat briefly wondered if he was the first to claim her like this.
The old dog leaned back and reached down to part the young woman’s buttocks, watching with a strange sort of fascination as he worked his length slowly back and forth a few times, through the tightly clenched young woman’s asshole. The longer he kept at it, the more her pained groans became only somewhat uncomfortable, until eventually she was panting and even pressing back against him a little. By the time Belinda was rocking back onto him, almost eagerly so, Pat was sitting motionless to let her almost ride him. The old dog couldn’t help but grin knowing what he was doing to that smug little prick’s wife, though that thought alone proved to be his undoing; getting one over on the rich short shit in such a way sent him over the edge. All too soon, Pat was snarling around a mouthful of Belinda’s scruff as he jackhammered through the last few thrusts, before he spilled his seed deep within her guts.
It took a while before they managed untangled themselves from one another and Pat managed to pop his knot out of the young woman’s backdoor, something he hadn’t even been aware he had done in the heat of passion. Pat rather awkwardly got dressed, his head canting to the side curiously as Belinda handed him a crisp, new one dollar bill from the nightstand beside her bed. Without saying a word, she took the confused old mutt by the hand again and led him down to the kitchen where she began to cook and prepare a large lunch for him.
“So, I gotta ask. Why did you do all this?” Pat asked in confusion as he took another bite of his decadent club sandwich.
“Oh, it was my husband’s idea actually” Belinda replied with a cheerful smile, she too was nibbling daintily at a few small pieces of fruit.
“Really?” Pat asked with obvious surprise, raising his brows at her.
“Yeah, when I told him you were retiring and we should do something nice for you, his response was ‘Fuck’em, give’em a dollar’” Belinda replied. “The lunch was my idea!” she continued on cheerfully.