Emma found it hard to contain her nervous excitement as she made her way to the back of the post office. Excitement — for the contents of the package she was picking up. Nervousness — well, let’s say it wasn’t exactly PG-13. It was a large box, nondescript, and just slightly too heavy for her to carry by herself. She felt a tinge of embarrassment at the thought of asking for the postal worker to help. The twenty-ish year old at the front counter was, however, too baked to notice her stutter. *Lucky me,* Emma thought.
As Emma followed the stoned assistant postmaster, her eyes wandered down his shoulder-length blonde hair and toned back. She found her eyes resting on his tight khakis-bound buttocks. It was only for a split second, before she averted her eyes as an intrusive thought wormed into her mind. *Oh no,* Emma thought as she bit her lower lip.