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Just before very first lockdown, I needed a postal order. I wasn't sure such a thing still existed, had been years since I had seen one. It was seeing a post office sign that reminded me. An old fashioned post office in a stand alone shop, not part of a convenience store. I crossed a main road to get to it, avoiding being knocked down. I'm quite a jay walker if I am honest.
At the point I was three steps from entering, a well groomed elderly man exited. I side-stepped to let him pass.
"Oh wow!" he said and then name checked me. He looked really pleased.
"Would you look at YOU", he said, "you haven't changed a bit. Still hot as hell and probably still as randy".
I said nothing.
"Jeez", he said, "the amount of times I thought of you when I was riding the wife. You've no idea how close you came to being invited home to join us, see which of us you preferred but if anyone had found out I'd have lost my job and probably got the jail. We all knew you were at it though and regularly".
He came right up to me chest to chest and gently grabbed my shirt
"I can't believe bumping in to you after all these years".
I kept stumm.
"I did suck your cock though", he continued, "in the council sauna when you used to lie on your back with your towel over your face, not seeing who helped themselves to your offer. You'd have been first year at Uni. You are the only lad I ever swallowed. Didn't have a choice, your balls were on my chin and your pubes under my nose. You just heaved, couldn't make a noise in the sauna of course. You just pumped it out. Had to gulp it down but I could hardly spit it out given the circumstances. I always hated the stuff so I did. Oh I wish I could still get it up, I'd love to ride you. But then nowhere to take you anyway, worst luck!"
He looked in to my eyes for about five seconds, smiled and then kissed me gently. No tongues but it was passionate in its gentleness. My cock gave me away smacking against him.
He grinned.
"I've still got it" he said. and ran his hand along my erection.
"Beautiful", he said, "I'd pay good money to taste that again".
He stepped back and looked me up and down.
"Oh wait 'til I tell Crawfie........Dr Crawford to you of course.........that I met you. It was GREAT to speak to you again son" - I hadn't said a word! - "it has made my day"
and at that he hugged me tight with a strength that belied his age and near took the breath out of me. I was almost sure I heard some part of me crack.
He kissed me again. My cock approved, he grinned. He then - I kid you not - ruffled the top of my head and with a "you take good care son", he was off.
Very bemused I entered the post office. Thankfully empty.
"Who was that elderly man", I asked, "he seemed to know me but I haven't a clue who he is"
"You and me both" she said, "I think he used to be a teacher. Or even headmaster. Comes in here first Friday of the month for 72 second class stamps"
"He what?" I queried
"A teacher", she said
"No", I tutted, "72 stamps?"
"Go figure", she said, "takes all sorts"
I really had no idea who he was. Resolved that I'd go back the next first Friday but of course Lockdowns etc got in the way. As I mulled it much later, I realised I had assumed he went the same time every first Friday.
Still don't know who he is...........
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Wonder what he does with all those stamps?
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Quick addendum:
when I posted this 'elsewhere', someone suggested:
6 days a week, 3 letters a day, 4 weeks equals 72 stamps
I had to clap! 
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