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Title: Edible Strawberry Panties
Author: Lys at lystykds@aol.com
Rated: G, Humor

Most days I like this job. I mean I am out and about in the city. I get fresh air... meet people. But, man, the holidays run me ragged, ya know. I mean I'm in/out of that truck zillions times a day. Let's not even get into the overtime. Overtimes great, but, hey, there are limits, ya know.

One holiday I do like though...best one of the year. I mean might still be snow on the ground, but sure ain't any snow in people's hearts. Other holidays I deliver mostly to people's homes, but this holiday usually falls on a regular workday. People are mostly at their jobs. So, I get to see where people work. Their smiles when I come in the door make me grin. I get to see their reactions to what they're getting. Sometimes, I get to see what they have already got. Kind of interesting, ya know.

There's one particular place I like to deliver to on Valentines' Day, been doing it over three years now. The guy that had the route before me told me in particular to note this address. He was right; this delivery is worth the price a ticket to the movies. There's this guy there ya see... really drop dead gorgeous guy...anyone can see that. But, I guess he can't, cause he's always so red faced and embarrassed when I get there.

Pulling up to this building, you don't get any idea that there's anything special there; I mean besides the toy soldier types that are usually parked out front like at the Queen's place in London. I usually park my delivery truck right outside the front door. This drives the tall blonde sentry nuts cause sweat breaks out on his upper lip and his nostrils flare out a bit. I take my time getting out whoever The Guy is outside the door. Take my time walking up to the front door. My mind is usually racing with thoughts about what I might get to see this year, always something entertaining in there.

This year some shorter, brown haired guy is out front...don't recognize him. I enter the front door and there sits the blonde nervous guy behind a desk...broken coffee mug is all apart across his desk; a little super glue tube in one hand and a feather duster stuck in the hand. Looks stuck cause he's holding it funny, he starts mumbling and I say, "Fraser still got the same office?" Cause I been there three times already today and this guy knows I know where it is. Blondie nods helplessly cause I think his lips might be sealed together. Einstein I'm not. But, I can figure some things out. I can barely make out. "Fraser Benwa..." through those stuck together lips and the guy's nodding his head frantically.

I make my way under the chandelier lit lobby and through the hallways until I get right outside The Guy's office door. I hold my delivery tight in my left arm and rata tat tat the door like a knock, knock joke sound. This guy, Constable Fraser, bounces back in his desk chair like he's been shot. His head pops up. I nearly grin at his reaction. Poor guy is surrounded by Valentine's Day gifts; there's about three boxes of chocolate sitting way up on top of a filing cabinet with a stuffed otter sitting right next to them. Sitting next to this stuffed otter with a frilly little lace collar with a red silk heart around its neck is a lustrous candied apple. The roses I delivered earlier are in a vase on the crowded windowsill. One rose appears bent and is now sporting about 7 cm of wire to hold it upright. This guy, Fraser, has put some saran wrap around the bottom of the vase to keep moisture off the old wooden sill. There's a whole bag of those little candy valentine hearts spilled over the blotter on the desk. I'd swear I see a pair of red panties peaking out of a box lying on the floor. I've caught the poor guy off guard for sure. He sighs and just nods over to the only free spot in his little office. I march over with my back to him with a grin on my face to set down the newest delivery of flowers.

As I set the vase down next to a container of Vaseline along side some KY jelly, (Hey, I don't want to know why this stuff is in his office. You want to know...you go ask.) I hear the door to the office close and the sound of her trench coat hitting the floor as this breathy female voice is starting to talk real soft and cozy. I turn around and nearly trip over my own feet. I look over to see the guy, Fraser, nearly toppling over to get out of his chair. He must be double jointed from the moves he's making as he ogles this beautiful little brown haired woman wearing a negligee as she begins a supple strip tease out of one of them corset things you call a bustier. He grins and I am sure he's forgotten I'm in the room. I step back in the shadows as she whispers: "I've got edible strawberry panties on." Fraser goes as blue as benwa balls, if you know what I mean.

I'm trying to breathe as Fraser puts his hand out to touch woman's shoulder with his lips as she brushes up against him when the door to his office opens and this guy with handcuffs bursts in the door. "Francesca, you silly goose, you ain't got any chicken laying eggs in that brain of yours have you?" The guy closes the door. It slams open again and another guy rushes into the office. "Fraser, didn't you learn anything on your search for the Hand of Franklin?"

The four wind up with their backs to me. I make my exit.... I'm no fool.

End Edible Strawberry Panties by Lys: Lystykds@aol.com

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