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Private Eye

By: mustanger7up



The Case of the Cheating Husband

I am a Private Detective, I've been in this business over 14 years since dropping out of College, I've Seen some strange things in that time. I deal mainly in cases of infidelity, Husbands or Wives trying to catch their spouse in a cheating situation. One of the rewards of this job, is not just the catching a cheating spouse to the relief or disgust of the paying customer, but the tapes I have collected of them in the arms of their lovers.

People would be surprised at what a loved one does with another person. A loving husband may never think of spanking his wife or crawling around on his hands and knees like a dog for her, but think nothing of doing it with a Hooker or girlfriend. Believe me, I have the tapes to prove it!

I'm not married anymore, after 7 years of me being gone all night and most days, my wife couldn't take anymore and left. I don't hold any hard feelings towards her, and I do miss her sometimes. It's times like then when I pull out a tape of one of my cases and use it for my own excitement.

The case I am on now is not a hard one, A wife of 24 years is afraid her husband is cheating on her. They have money, a lot of it! And if he is cheating and I can prove it, SHE will have a lot of money, and a large house and everything else. It is one of the easiest jobs I ever had, The man, Mr. Neal had no idea I am watching or that his wife suspects anything.

Mrs. Neal is a nice enough looking woman, Mid to late 50's, A little on the heavy side. Not bad looking with make up. She had called me the week before informing me of her wishes, I told her my rates and she hired me on the spot. I went over to meet her and get the details. I drove up in my Van, got out and looked at the fine manicured lawn then knocked on the door.

Mrs. Neal answered, She didn't look upset or concerned and approached the subject as a matter of fact.

"Mrs. Neal? I'm Sam Richardson, may I come in?"

She ushered me inside the beautiful well kept home.

"Good afternoon Mr. Richardson!" Shaking my hand, her was warm and soft.

I checked her out, Round face, kinda frumpy but dressed well. Perhaps 20 to 25 pounds overweight, Small tits, large ass. Well spoken and polite, a nice touch. Pointing to the couch she offered me a seat.

"Would you like something to drink Mr. Richardson? Some tea or coffee?"

"No thank you, I need to have a picture of your husband, perhaps any of his habits that you know of. Where he goes after work or during work hours, Who you think he may be seeing, Things of that nature!" I told her getting right to business.

Her eyes brimmed with tears as she went and got what I had asked for, handing them to me she then said,

"I believe he is seeing his friends wife, a little Gold Digger. She has to be at least 15 years younger than my husband and extremely attractive."

"Uh huh, and is he staying out later than usual, or do you suspect it's a daytime affair?"

"It could be both, he has always worked late hours, and leaves early. I just couldn't say."

"I see. Well I will find out and let you know. Thank you for your time. Here's my card, call if you need or think of anything I may need to know Mrs. Neal."

"Thank you Mr. Richardson. I will."

I walked out to my van, plugged in my cam corder, and drove off looking for another cheating husband. My van is set up to live in, bed, refrigerator, and extra plugs for my electronic equipment. I drove across town, looked for his office building, found it and his car in the parking lot. I parked and waited for him to show. Checking my watch I found it was 0930, I kicked back listening to the radio when at 1015 I watched as he left the building went to his car and drove off

I followed at a safe distance knowing since he did not suspect he was being tailed he wouldn't worry. He drove to nice home not far from his own, went to the door and knocked. Mrs. Neal was correct, if this was the woman he was sleeping around with, she was a beauty, dark hair and eyes and a body that would make a preacher lust after her. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big kiss. I took pictures, my tape recorder hooked to my electronic ear. I love mine, picks up an ant walking at 1000 feet. They went inside and I waited, 45 minutes later he came out. She hugged him, he hugged her also, grabbing that sweet looking ass of hers when he did and she grabbed his crotch. Good pictures, Mrs. Neal should be pleased with my mornings work.

He drove back to work, and again I waited. I walked across the street got a burger and fries then went back to my van to eat and wait. At 1730 he left work and drove to a Motel, not one of the better ones. His sweetheart met him there, as they sat in her car they kissed and groped each other about 15 minutes before he went and got a room for them.

I made a note of which one and after they entered I took my cam and followed. Luckily there was a 2" crack in the drapes. I looked in and they were already half undressed, I got the cam corder going. The first thing I saw was him getting on his knees and kissing her feet, I knew this was going to be an interesting case then.

She was dressed in a leather corset, half of the tops of her breasts exposed, and black nylons held up with black garters. A lovely sight, I could only hear mumbles, nothing clearly, but I know a submissive man when I see one. She sat on the edge of the bed as he kissed her legs working slowly up to her tan thighs. She smiled as he did what she and obviously trained him to do for her. His erection strained to touch her, but she would not let him. 

His mouth reached her neatly trimmed pussy, her legs opening wider to allow him access to it. As he kissed her slit I saw his hand reach to his cock. This part I could hear.

"Who told you to touch your worthless cock? Did you hear me give you permission to touch yourself you fucking scum?"

He pulled his back from her thighs, looking down at the floor and shook his head no. She let him resume his pleasuring her. His mouth attacking her with a vengeance as she grabbed his thinning hair and shoved him between her open legs. His mouth worked on her pussy for approximately 15 minutes, with her cumming at least 5 times during that time. At least from her reactions it appeared she had at least that many orgasm's. When she seemed to have enough she shoved him away, And I could see he was asking her something. Her reply I could hear.

"You worthless fuck, you expect ME to out my mouth on your poor excuse for a penis?" And she laughed in his face.

Like most men of power and wealth, this one needed a strong woman to help him, if you call abuse help! She laughed again then had him suck her neatly manicured and painted toes. His tongue worked each one slowly, allowing her to enjoy every exquisite moment of it. Her head fell back and her lovely hair reached mid back as she fucked his mouth with her feet, His erection was throbbing between his hairy legs as he did as she had ordered him to do.

When she had enough of his washing her feet with his mouth she had him lay on his back at her feet. She rubbed his hard cock with her foot, he humped against it, trying to get as much pleasure from her touch as he could. I have to admit, this woman was sexy, my own dick was hard as a rock now.

It appeared he was close to his orgasm when she stopped, his eyes filled with tears at the misery of being so close, yet so far from orgasm. An evil smile crept to her face as she watched his face show the disappointment. I am not submissive, and could not understand why she would not like to have his 8" long cock in her, but it was her game, and she played it well.

She stood and dressed as he sat on the floor at her feet, I saw her mouth something to him and his hand flew to his hard cock, jacking it off furiously, his hand a blur as he beat it off. In less than a minute he was shooting his load. I was amazed at the amount he shot out and for how long it kept cumming out. I saw some of it had hit her shoe, she was not happy about it and let him know about it.

"You spineless worm!" she screamed. "You got that shit on my shoe, clean it off, Now!"

He lowered his face to her foot and began to lick her shoe clean for his Mistress. After her shoe was clean, she approached the door to leave and turned to him as she blew a kiss his way. I barely turned off my cam corder in time and was walking past the door when she exited, almost running into me as she did.

"Excuse me Miss." I said

She said nothing and looked at me with a look of distaste as she walked away. I turned and watched her walk, a sexy twist in her ass. It was obvious to me this was a woman that knew what she wanted and just how to get it. I went to my van logged it all down and drove to my lonely apartment. Getting there I took a nice hot shower, then after drying off walked to get me a cold beer then to bed.

I turned on my VCR and watched a tape of another case, one where a husband was having an affair with his secretary. A cute blonde about 23, blues eyes and liked to get fucked by him in her sweet ass. I lay there watching her take his thick cock in her ass while her large pink tipped tits flopped around under her chest as she humped against his cock. Finishing my beer I grabbed my cock and started stroking it slowly, this was my favorite time of day or night. Watching sex shows, unknown to the participants, They knew the tapes were there, just not that I had a spare copy of them.

I tickled my balls with one hand and jerked my cock with the other, the skin on it sliding with my fist as I jacked off. There is something about a pretty young woman that loves a good hard ass fucking that keeps me going. And this girl loved it, As I watched another 5 minutes or so, I knew he was going to come, she already had a couple of times and I was fixing to. My hand worked faster knowing the scene would soon show his cock emerge from her tight ass and his spunk dripping out of her hairy asshole, as her asshole clinched open and closed in her after orgasm bliss.

The scene came on as my spunk came out, The sight I watched tonight must have excited me more than I had realized, because I shot a load and a half out. Hitting my chest and belly, covering my hand with its hot thick load, making my cock slick and not wanting to stop jacking it off it felt so good. I lay back relaxing as my cock softened in my hand, then grabbed a handi wipe, I cleaned up the mess and rolled over to a good nights sleep.

The next morning I called Mrs. Neal informing her of what I had discovered and taped. 

"Would you like for me to come over to show you the tape Mrs. Neal"

With a slight hesitation in her voice, "Uh , Yes, Please if you have the time."

"Mrs. Neal until this case is over, it is your time! I will be there in 30 minutes!"

I hung up and left, the drive over to a clients house with this kind of evidence is never pleasant, You never know what to expect out of them. Shock, Yes. Denial, Yes. Anger, Most certainly. I arrived at her home right on time, got out and knocked. She opened the door, it looked like she had been crying, and who could blame her. She led me to the TV room and I inserted the tape.

"Are you sure you want to watch this Mrs. Neal? I don't think it is going to be what you expect to see, so please make sure before you turn it on."

"Yes, I believe I need to know for sure." as she hit the remote, turning on the tape.

I sat back, watching her reactions to the sight. Her eyes got wide when she saw her husband eat his Mistress's pussy out.

"Why he, uh, he Never did that to me! I would have let him do that, but he never tried with me." 

I stayed quiet, let the client talk and get it out. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it just got them madder. The scene where you could hear her saying she would not suck his cock, Mrs Neal's face flushed even redder. And when she saw the part of him sucking the woman's feet, I do believe she was getting excited at the thought, her breathing was getting a little hurried and her face was flushed. I kept my eyes on her as her husband started to jack off for his Mistress, when he came, I could swear that Mrs. Neal was extremely excited. Her breathing was coming faster and her hands in her lap seemed to be pressing into it. I said nothing, I couldn't, my cock was hard and all I could try to do was hide it.

The tape finished and she let it run showing a blue screen while she thought about what she had seen. I took the remote and rewound the tape for her, she sat there in what appeared to be a light case of shock.

"Are you OK Mrs. Neal? I know this came as quite a shock, but it is what you wanted to find out. He is cheating on you."

"Yes Mr. Richardson, I'm fine. Well perhaps not fine, but I will survive. I just have to think of what I need to do now."

Then the tears started, her shoulders shook as she cried. It seemed a little unethical of me, but I put my arm around her trying to give her some sort of comfort. She sobbed on my shoulder and I patted her back lightly, talked to her in a soothing voce.

"Oh, I'm so embarrassed, I should not be crying like this."

"It understandable Mrs. Neal, I'm sure it has come as quite a shock to you, to know that it was not just a suspicion, but indeed a fact of his having an affair."

I was trying to be of help and she started crying even harder. Well Shit! Now I had done it, I had made matter worse, not better. Me and my big mouth. I was trying to think of something more appropriate to say when I felt a hand on my hard on, and it wasn't mine. To say I was shocked was nothing, and when I felt her squeeze it, I had a hard time not shooting off my load right there.

"Mrs. Neal do you think you should be doing that? I mean isn't that something you hired me to find out. This is not something I should do with my client!"

Her language surprised me, "Fuck that Bastard! He never asked me to do any of those things she did to him. I would have done anything for him, Anything!"

Then I felt her hand unzipping my trousers. I had said all I could to stop this from going any further, now it was her choice. I raised my hips as she pulled my pants down, freeing my hard cock, I don't wear underwear so it was now visible to her eyes.

"Oh its beautiful!" then her face dropped on my cock, engulfing it down her hot mouth. 

I lay back and let her get some sort of perverted revenge on her husband, and me getting a pretty damn good head job while she did. Why he had never asked her to suck him off I would ever know, She really knew what to do to a cock. Her mouth was hot, wet and eager to please as she inhaled it deeply. I watched as this Grand Mother sucked my cock, her mouth seemed even wetter because of her crying.

I sat there a few minutes, then grabbed the back of her head and fucked her mouth. She started moaning, stopping to tell me, "This is so delicious!" then resuming her attack on my thick cock. Since she had started this after viewing the tape, I knew it had excited her tremendously. I gave it to her like a cock sucking whore, Forcing all of my cock in her hot mouth, she never complained or tried to get me to stop as I fucked her face. Her thin lips surrounding my cock as she sucked it.

Even though I had jacked off last night, I knew I would not last long with the expert head job I was receiving My hips bucked to her face as she swallowed my cock deeper. I felt my spunk rising from my balls, she never slowed down. The first shot hitting the back of her throat, she pulled my cock out letting the rest splash in her face, hitting her lips and cheeks.

"Mmmu yes give it to me, give me your hot sweet cum." 

I watched as it hit her face, she rubbed my cock all over it, jacking me off making sure she got every drop out, before licking and sucking my cock clean. All the while moaning how good I tasted and how exciting it was to do it. Made me wonder what the fuck was wrong with her husband!

Mrs. Neal looked me in the eyes and asked, "Would you do the same for me? Harold never tried, I'm sure it is a wonderful feeling for what that little slut looked like when he did it to her."

How could I not? I helped her stand up, turned her around and unbuttoned her dress. Letting it fall to the floor, I took her bra off and still standing behind her I removed her panties. I then turned her around and gave her a kiss, her tongue diving in my mouth trying to take all of my saliva out with it. My hands went to her small tits, squeezing her pink nipples, she moaned deeply.

"Oh My God, it has been so long since Harold had touched me, my nipples are so sensitive, please, put it in your mouth, suck it for me."

I lay her on the couch, the same one that we had watched the tape of her husband getting his. I put her nipple in my warm mouth and gave it a suck, her hand grabbed the back of my head forcing her tit deeper. 

"Oh Yes, Bite it, bite it now for me, I love to have them bitten."

I gave it a light bite and she moaned loudly, I pulled on her nipple with my lips. Then stuck my hand between her thighs, feeling her hairy pussy I slid a finger inside it. She was not as tight as a 20 year old, but I wasn't concerned about that. I stuck my finger inside her, she was wet as any pussy I had ever had and her hands held me closer to her breast as I bit it for her. My head moved down lower, kissing her stomach and licking her belly button as I worked my way down to her unused pussy. I was going to give her what she had been missing for so long, a nice long tongue bath on her hairy wet pussy.

When my tongue hit her pussy she jumped like she had been electrocuted, her hips shot out to my face and her hands held my hair shoving me further between her thick thighs. I spread her dark outer pussy lips open then kissed the pink insides of her inner lips. Sticking my tongue in her as deep as I could I tasted her previous cum. Thick hot and creamy, I lapped it up as her hips slammed against my face. Her wetness oozing from her hot tasty pussy as I licked it all over, I put my lips on her clit and sucked it. She cried out as her orgasm hit her.

"Oh Yes, eat my pussy, lick it up, Oh SHIT, make me fucking cum!"

I bit her clit lightly and she almost shot off the couch, her large ass rising to meet my tongue, I stuck a finger in her tight hairy asshole and she came again. 

"Yes you nasty bastard finger my ass, fuck my ass with it. Oh Fuck it's so nasty."

I did, and she twisted every way she could on the couch trying to get more of it in her. I fingered her asshole a while, then moved my face, watching as she fucked my finger in her ass. She was hot to cum again, and wasn't wasting time doing it, I felt her ass tighten on my finger when she did. I let her cum then moved my cock up to her slick slit, rubbing the head of it along her wetness, teasing her.

"No, don't tease me, for God's sake don't tease me! Please put it in, I need it so badly, I can't wait any longer, Fuck Me!"

I felt the heat from her as I slid inside her, not letting her grow accustomed to its size, I slammed it deep in her with one shove. Her fat legs opened wider to let me have my way with her. I didn't want to be gentle, I wanted some pussy and I wanted it now. Her hips rushed to meet me as she fucked me like she hadn't had a hard cock in years. I grabbed a leg and pulled it up to my shoulder, not caring if it was uncomfortable for her, only wanting to feed my cock in her deeper, to feel her womb as I hit it with the head of my thick cock.

She cried out when it hit her womb the first time, then settled in to a steady fucking. Her face was breaking out in sweat and I pounded her without mercy, gasping for breath she came again. I felt my own back getting sweaty as I fucked her hard. Her pussy sloshing juices all over my cock as it shoved them out, filling her to the brink with my cock. I was nearing my orgasm and let her know.


Private Eye



Advertising for some excitement.

One of the first people to answer my advert was a private eye, he didn't have anything for me to do but just wanted to see whether I could be suitable for him if he ever had need of my services. Assuring me he was at the top of his profession asked me whether I would consider meeting him at one of the Cities top hotels for lunch. When I agreed he wanted me to play out a well-known scenario before we met.

Firstly I needed to turn up looking good in something that would show out, but not in something that suggested I looked an easy touch. Also, I was to stay alone and refuse drinks from any would be admirers, not only refuse, but also feel insulted at the same time. Then this Mr. Jones was to have his turn and I was to except him even though I had no idea of his looks, but it was supposed to be based on my instincts.

He gave me very little to go on as to his looks either, I suppose the long raincoat, dark glasses and a hat were a thing of the past. It was I who had to pick out the real person and not any of the others that were bound to offer. All I was told was a brief description of him and was not to look out for him.

It sounded an exiting game and a chauffeur driven limousine to pick me up sounded even more interesting. It was a hard choice of clothing, nothing to short or revealing, and nothing to drab as not to attract. Settling for a black trouser suit and a favourite lime green chiffon top I was finally ready after keeping the chauffeur waiting for ages.

Arriving at the hotel I wanted to make a big entrance, waiting for the doorman to open my door I thanked him, walked in and straight over to the inquiry desk. It was unmanned and a strike of the bell had eyes from every direction looking over to me.

A member of staff who was full of apologies asking me what I could do for her quickly joined me. Telling her I was meeting a Mr. Jones here I told the clerk I'd be sitting in the bar. With that I walked into the dimly lit bar with all it's private alcoves and hideaways.

On purpose as if I were looking for my Mr. Jones I walked the gang ways looking into all the nooks and crannies and mouthing my apologies to the people I had disturbed in them. Having made my entrance a grand one I sat close to the bar and gestured to the barman for some service. I had deliberately brought along some reading matter although it was probably erotic stories from the web as I thumbed through them as the waiter took my order.

Sticking to a glass of chardonnay I quietly went about my business reading the stories and sipping on my drink. As per normal someone asking me whether I’d like a drink also whether I was alone soon interrupted me. As if finishing my sentence on my notes I looked up into the gentleman's eyes, he was a nice looking guy, not the one I was looking for though and politely declined his offer.

One or two more men came over, one had the nerve to ask me whether I was working, another, like before asked whether I'd like a drink. Declining them all I was suddenly brought over a bottle of chardonnay from the waiter. Querying it with him he explained that a gentleman in seats six and seven had bought me it.

"Take it away." I said in a demanding voice, needing a refill, but not from a stranger. As he left I raised my arm in the air and a waiter quickly refilled my glass. Again the waiter pointed to somewhere else telling me it was put on another gentleman's bill, again I declined. It seemed as if I were the only single woman in there that day and I had six offers from elsewhere before the seventh arrived. Looking over and ready to decline, maybe it was the raincoat, tilted trilby or sunglasses, but I knew that was my man. Excepting a glass of chardonnay Mr. Jones quickly joined me.

"I have watched you for over an hour Pat and each refusal has made you more and more desirable. I don't want you to prostitute yourself, the opposite in fact, if I call upon you I want you to do the same as you have here only play hard to get with the final person you pick. He will be looking for a one off thing, not a prostitute, but an upper class person like yourself, it will work." He said.

Excited now, I wanted the plan of action to start straightaway. It didn't, but he had my number and promised that one-day it will happen. He was sincere and genuine and we did make it a nice day, he was completely business like and telling me I was at the top of his contact list I wasn't sure whether or not I'd ever hear from him again. 

It was only a few days later when the phone rang early one morning and still asleep I answered it with a few sleepy sighs. Quickly regaining consciousness however it was Mr. Jones.

"Sorry Pat, can you talk he asked?" I replied by telling him he had woken me up. Knowing I was alone he started trying to see whether I could excite him as he was asking me what I was wearing and what I was doing.

"Oh you cheeky sod, I get good money for answering those questions and you can't afford me." I answered in a light-hearted manner.

"What you like with woman Pat?" Mr. Jones asked unexpectedly.

"That'll be double." As I answered suspiciously, as my thigh's automatically opened and my fingers started to search out my already excited libido.

"We have a woman playing around Pat and the husband thinks she is looking out for woman as well as men and she is at a function alone this afternoon and just wondered whether you'd be available if she went looking for a mature blonde female." Mr. Jones said. I purred down the phone to him as my index finger started to excite me telling him to give me more details. He carried on for about five minutes regarding this woman, an attractive blonde herself who had a thing about anything blonde be it male or female. Also planted at this hotel was a blonde guy so that she had a variety of choices.

I was to learn that I had an advantage however in that she has a thing about leather and if I agreed the chauffeur was to pick up a leather suit for me to wear on his way around to pick me up. Also a thousand-pound and I was to be boisterous there and order the best champagne and make sure everybody became aware of me. I was going to enjoy the day, even if it didn't work I thought as I lay soaking in my bath knowing I only had a few hours before my carriage arrived. I was ready, well ready in that my hair and face were done and I had a half cut bra on, tan hold-ups and a thong that wouldn't hide any of my modesty if I needed to that was. The doorbell rung right on time and the chauffeur had my uniform with him. As if he didn't exist I took the hanger and in front of him I put this very expensive looking leather two pieces on. There was nothing of it, the skirt showed the pattern of my hold-ups and if I coughed then my tits would fly out the front of the jacket. Sporting a large coat to hide the view the neighbours would no doubt have while peering through their curtains I was whisked away to this five-star hotel.

Inside it was packed, the conference was halfway through and they were all out on their break. I aimed for any blonde people on the way to the bar and was quickly served as I loudly called out for a bottle of their best champagne.

Looking around the place was full of blonde people, hadn't a clue where my man was in the crowd either. If I were she then she wouldn't have noticed him either. 

With nowhere to sit I stood up at the bar and quickly got the barmen to keep refilling my glass as I tried to make a spectacle of myself. Getting nowhere I accidentally toppled the bottle onto the floor and this beautiful young blonde lady quickly retrieved it for me.

With the bottle fizzing away and over flowing I deliberately took hold of it and in a drunken way refilled my glass so that it was full of froth that quickly over flowed on to the counter.

"Opps!" Was all I was willing to say to this woman, she wanted to talk to me, but I was more interested in my glass of Champagne. Introducing herself as Jean to me, I casually smiled back to her and told her my name. Although we were close together in the crowd I did distinctively feel he soft hands gently caressing my leather skirt as she purred into my ear while telling me how nice it felt. Then a toastmaster came over and announced that the afternoon session was about to begin. With that I gave a provocative smile to this lady and turning towards the glass of champagne I gave her a small wave, turning my back carried on drinking from my glass.

Suddenly the bar was almost empty, a few couples and one hunk of a blonde guy smiling over to me. Looking around he came over, was twenty years my junior yet with a beaming smile he told me I 'had her' eating out of my hand.

Congratulating on your professionalism Pat, he said as he turned to leave me alone.

"No don't leave, stay with me a while, I told Mr. Jones I was bi, but would prefer you any day to her love." Pointing over towards their function. Knowing it was going on for another hour I got to know Jim very well in that time. It was nice that I could share my stories with someone who wasn't going to be shocked, or like Mr. Jones, sexually turned on with them.

We talked and it was nice to be able to open out to someone real and he envied my lifestyle telling me his were usually with frumpy old spinsters or such as like. Mentioning this lady, she was lovely but didn't fancy him one bit when he approached her. Telling me that she hadn't taken her eyes off of me as I was making a commotion up at the bar earlier. He also went on to mention that when he looked over at us she seemed to be spellbound as I was talking to her. I hadn't noticed that, I felt her eyes looking me over, but was used to that and wearing the clothes that I had been given I told him that I expected everyone in the bar had looked over at least once. Even his eyes were wandering as we talked. 

"You are fuckable though Pat." He said in a very calm and calculated way. 

"I would love to put a little oil on your tits and push my cock between them." He said, his voice almost in a whisper now.

"You dirty sod, go and take a cold shower, we are supposed to be a pair of professionals here and she could come back any moment." I told him, my face was grinning though with the cheek of the man.

"I have my cock out Pat and am masturbating." He said, his voice was serious and I really thought he had. 

"Now stop it, you must go before the function ends otherwise we will both get the sack from Mr. Jones I say. In a panic now I shout to him that the doors had opened as I notice him fumbling with his clothes beneath the table.

"I had better go Pat, so good luck," he says as I watch him leave my table.

As he left I told him to book a suite for a Mr. and Mr's Jones, with confusion on his face I look at him sternly and say. "Just do it!" He had gone, I was bored now, wanting to act a little tipsy I ordered another bottle of Champagne and quietly poured the rest of the other bottle away onto the carpeted floor. Streaking locks off hair over my face I tried to give the impression that the champagne was having an effect over me.

The doors did finally open to their function and a beeline was made to the bar. Giving a glazed smile to some as they looked down as my bra was now prominent beneath the cut of my jacket. It was so relevant that this blonde sitting sipping her champagne was a little tidily and anybodies that afternoon. Some tried and seeing my striking blonde just exit from the function I took up an offer to one deliberately dark haired handsome guy. He was about to sit down when from nowhere this lovely young blonde's face appeared next to my table. 

"Hi Pat, not turned up then?" As this man quickly left as we both treated him as if he wasn't here.

"No, bloody men, we are doing them a favour and he has no idea the amount of preparation we have to go through, well you love, you don't need too, but it takes me all day to get ready." I say, inviting a comment from her.

"Well if it took time to make you the way you are Pat, then it was time well spent." She says, her hand suddenly brushing the hair I'd purposely bedraggled over my face. 

Tipping an old glass of champagne onto the floor I poured her a fresh glass, telling her the drinks and a room was booked for us by this Mr. Jones person. 

"I have a room also Pat, these functions tire me out and I often like to unwind for the evening and go home to my husband the next day. What room has Mr. Jones booked you love?" I hadn't a clue but knowing my blonde friend it was probably the cheapest one in the hotel.

It was as well as she looked over the register and suggested I spent the evening with her as my room was just that, a room. Because her suite contained two bedrooms then perhaps I’d like to spend the evening with her as she told me that she needed to unwind also. I can still sleep alone if I wished her voice now in a whisper and her hand resting suggestively on my knee.

"Come Pat, sod Mr. Jones let me show you what a good time is." As she held onto my wrist and pulled me off the seat and guided me towards the lifts. 

In the lift to her floor I was acting a little tipsy still as I could feel her mood change to one of seduction as the all mirrored lift showed her hands slowly caressing my body through the thin leather suit. Her eyes were transfixed on me as her slender fingers adjust my cleavage to hide the lace of my bra.

Looking at the floor counter we were almost at our floor and as the lift slowed Jean's knee parted my legs as she whispered how she was going to make me feel so special that night. I was really melting with her closeness as the lift came to a stop and as the doors began to open she turned my body and pushed me against it preventing them from doing so. Her knee again opened my legs, this time it went in further and I could feel her thigh rubbing gently against the gusset of my already dampened panties. Her eyes were looking into mine as her perfumed face closed in and our lips met. Her knee carried on exciting my body and I was inadvertently opening myself to help her as she took hold of my hands and placed them on her hips. Placing hers above me and onto the door behind me she started again slowly kissing around my face and neck as I opened my mouth to except her long tongue every time she came close to my lips.

I found myself pulling her hips closer to me and my knees were spread wide as the thin gusset of my panties were pulling tightly across my open inner labia causing beautiful sensations to run through my body.

“Are you going to get off for me Pat?” She quietly whispered as I closed my eyes and my breathing started to labour sending out small panting breaths into her open mouth.

"Come Pat, come for Jean." She whispered as my thighs crushed onto her leg and my hands grasped heavily onto her hips drawing her closely into me. My breathing was erratic as Jean crushed her lips to mine as my orgasm shuddered through my body as she pushed her body closely into mine to prolong my orgasm.

My head was overheated, my hair and makeup no doubt a mess as the aromas of my body quickly filled the large lift. Jean was kissing me gently now her hands caressing gently at my heaving breasts as my breathing returned to normal and the heat in my body subsided making me take a few deep breath's before calming down. Taking the weight of the door it suddenly opened and Jean and I must have looked shocked as a smartly dressed couple stood outside wondering what had been going on in the lift. The state of the lift with it’s pungent aromas and the state of me must have made it pretty obvious though, as I walked quickly away from the lift no doubt with a look of a guilty school kid on my face. Not looking back though I was surprised to hear voices and it was Jean who seemed to be talking friendly with this couple. 

I never mentioned the fact to her I was curious though as to what they were talking about when she finally caught me up. As if to slow me down she held on to my arm and quickly told me our secret was safe, as she knew them and that they lived just a few doors away from her.

"Lived." I said, querying the fact that we were in a hotel. 

"Sorry Pat, I should have come clean and told you I live here all the time, but always away on business find it cheaper to live like this than buy an apartment. "Jean said in a confident manner, not knowing she had told me earlier that she was only staying overnight and returning to her husband tomorrow. 

Worried now my boss assured me that she was a happily married businessperson with a family in a house only a few miles from this hotel. In the room, or apartment I should say it really was done out as a home rather than a hotel suite. Down to the silver framed portraits of her around the room and the obvious sign that it was lived in and not impersonal like so many other hotel suites I had visited before were.

There was nothing real personal about the place though, the picture frames could easily have just been put there and walking in to her bedroom was like walking into a boudoir really. An extra large four poster bed with mauve satin drapes was only there for one reason and a wide screened television had been positioned up high on the wall.

"Lie on the bed prop some pillows up, have a drink, relax and watch my videos Pat." Jean asked.

I was exited enough by the whole situation anyway and was only to willing to oblige her request. Telling me I had my heels digging into her waterbed she lifted each leg and provocatively removed each one leaving my legs spread open in the process.

I watched closely as she searched her video collection for the right one and putting it into the machine it seemed to be designed for just me. Apparently she had a maid that was very obliging, although Spanish and hardly spoke a word of English, looking at her on the television screen she was a lovely looking dark haired 'señorita' though. 

Making it obvious Jean was following her around the hotel suite she kept lifting her skirt to the camera to reveal a shapely pair of legs and a very inadequate pair of dark panties for her particular job. It was of course all set up and when she came here to the bedroom then the fun really did start. 

Knowing Jean liked blondes it puzzled me when this hairy señorita started to dust around Jean's bed. Her thongs although black revealed a mass of thick black pubic hair that made me wonder why I was told she loved blondes. I watched in amazement as provocatively now this maid was polishing the bedroom and the camera was following her bum around the room in very close detail I might add.

The camera was suddenly put on a secure surface and pointed towards the bed and the maid did away with her duster spread out on the bed and started to disrobe. Naked, she really did have a lovely figure and having three kids, one all of seventeen seemed unbelievable. But that was what she told Jean, so why lie about something so personal. Her tanned body and thick mass off pubic hair really was a yucky sight, I had only ever given oral sex to one woman in the same situation and found the pubic hairs seemed to linger with the already not to inviting aroma that we produce. That didn't put Jean of though as I watched her squat above her maid and almost felt those feeling that she was giving Jean. Mmm, yes I could relate to that and although the camera shot didn't show it I could understand every emotion they were experiencing.

Jean had seen me orgasm and it was nice to see her have an orgasm also, although only on film knowing I was to give her some sort of excitement later on that night. Jean was however in a state of excitement and couldn't take her eyes of my body. I have had numerous guys look at me in the same manner but Jean's eyes were something else as I could almost see her dribbling while her tongue licked her lips with her eyes stuck firmly on my open and excited pussy.




Private Eye



Not waiting and not needing an invite and with her eyes fixed on my parted legs Jean knelt on to the water bed and lifting my body from the mattress with one hand I felt her delicate lips kiss deeply into my excited open pussy. Pulling the gusset of my wet panties aside I could hear Jean's excitement as she was sighing to me while feeling her tongue deeply lick into my inners. Resting her head on my left leg I encircled my right one around her body and holding her neck I pulled her close to me as her mouth eat at my inners sending feelings to my brain that I had never experienced before. I was as wide open as I could possibly be as I pushed down onto her tongue. Her lips were inside me, her tongue licking at areas no one had been before. I was pulling her in deeper to me as each movement from Jean now produced a cry of pleasure from me that increased by the second. I held her face on me so that I could experience an orgasm so intense bearing my hips down on to her knowing she wouldn't mind.

My orgasm was so natural, so easy; as my wetness must have covered her face imbedded deep inside me still. Was sure she’d have stayed there forever, my thighs and legs had her locked tightly. I eventually released my grip on her and relaxed back onto the bed. However Jean carried on as I felt her tongue pick out my clitoris and made the muscles in my body tighten as it lightly ran over every nerve end time and time again. 

Still dressed in her white silk blouse and long grey skirt I beckoned her towards me, pulling at her skirt she soon took the hint that I wanted to give as good as I was receiving. Without her tongue leaving my excited swollen clitoris she turned her body around and without needing to ask permission lifted a knee over my body and with me lifting her skirt up I was soon looking at the most desirable labia I had ever seen. Her tanned bum cheeks were so tight and firm as I ran my hands over them, almost tempting me to give them a gentle slap. 

All the time Jean's tongue was still hitting that spot that although wouldn't get me off again it did however keep making me miss a breath or two. Looking at her sex lips suddenly had me feeling ashamed of mine, the tightness of them were like a neatly formed slit with no extra baggage that two kids and a lot of abuse had formed on me over the past thirty years or so. 

Completely shaved like me and as soon as I pulled her hips down onto me they parted and as I deliberately licked the whole length of her opening I was aware that she had been exciting herself for a while alone. Her musky aroma was evident as my tongue licked into her each time I could feel her body react to me. Widening her legs still further and with help from my hands I was able to open her up wide and unlike Jean needing to search for my clitoris, hers was so prominent that brushing my tongue over it had Jean squirming with pleasure above me.

She was putting me on another planet between my open legs and I knew that Jean was willing me to please her more, each time my tongue reached her excited clitoris however produced a sigh of pleasure from her and she would stop licking on me. This carried on and on, like a game really Jean and I knew what was going on. She took me to new heights and each time my tongue explored her eager clitoris it stopped her in her tracks as she gave out a welcoming sigh. Knowing she wanted more I carried on faster and faster as leaving me alone she was suddenly swivelling her hips above me. Her breathing alone was telling me she was approaching her orgasm.

Her long nails dug deeply into my legs, her body was as spread open as far as it could possibly be above me. She screamed out my name and my tongue was motionless as Jean enjoyed it alone, gyrating her hips on it as her orgasm noisily filled the room.

Being there many times myself before she also loved it and slowing herself down she came slowly back to reality. Moving her body away from mine she laid out on her waterbed, our previous activities were still causing waves as we both laid quietly thinking over our next move.

"Do you want a man Pat?" Jean said in an exciting way.

It was almost four in the morning, I had Jean all over my hands and face and my lower half was sending out aromas that would have had us followed by every wild animal in town if we dared walk out of the hotel in this situation. Although satisfied sexually I was never one to say no to anything that sounded exciting though, so agreeing we got up from the bed and without either of us allowed to look in a mirror we made our way out of the suite.

That same lift and for the first time I looked into a mirror and I looked how I felt and it was exciting. Jean's aroma and her juices had matted my hair as I tried to quickly comb it through before we got to the ground floor. Not having succeeded however it didn't really matter. Jean hadn't even bothered trying as we walked merrily arm in arm through the quiet hotel lobby.

Out into the refreshing fresh air Jean knew exactly where to go and guided me along the main street for a while until she pulled me off into a dimly lit alleyway. It was the dead of night and all that could be heard were our heels cluttering along making each footstep seem to magnify the noise we were making. Suddenly Jean stopped at an unlit door and banged on it with her hand, moments later this big heavy door opened up and a guy the size of the door was facing us.

“Madame Celina, how lovely to see you.” His smile a mile wide as leaving me she hugged this giant and kissed his cheeks as I instantly thought that his nose had picked up my scent as that same smile was also aimed directly at me. "This is Pat, Pat, Tiny." Jean or Celina said as Tiny put his arms on my shoulders and gently pulled me to him and also kissed my cheeks. He probably knew what Jean or Celina as I later found out she was called in that club tasted like and knowing that he probably also knew where my face had been all night.

"Is Sam in love?" Jean asked.

"Yes, he always is Celina, it's a big night down there tonight, some tourist's from America have joined in, go down. Pat, please be careful of the stairs." He told me in a concerned way. Jean went first and the stairs were more of a ladder as I gingerly held on to them following Jean down.

Wolf whistles filled the air knowing who was on there way down, but Jean still had her sober grey skirt on and when I followed in a silly twelve inch leather then the whistles turned to cheers. We were made most welcome though, a very dimly lit place with the only real lighting around a table where seven or eight men were playing cards. 

Before we had time to say our hello's a Champagne cork popped and I was given a glass of a much welcoming cool drink. Jean seemed to know most of the men there, going around the table and pecking each ones cheek then introducing them to me. Something special for Sam as she held him close and they kissed lovingly for ages. 

“This is Pat Sam, Sam, Pat," She said introducing us. Wow Sam was something else a tanned hunk and later I found out was a personal trainer to not only Jean, but a lot of celebrities as well. We kissed, not a peck, but a kiss and my knees buckled as he took my breath away. Holding me just that extra second I knew there was something exciting there and leaving him reluctantly I stared into Jean's eyes as mine were telling her my thoughts of him.

The two Americans were also introduced to us, they were nice guys here for a holiday, but looked as if they were depressed probably having lost their return ticket home. 

Slapping his thigh one asked me to bring him luck and invited me to sit with him. Not knowing the sport I agreed and sat discreetly on his knee. Showing me his cards he asked me, just a gesture really, these two or those three as he pointed to them? Knowing those two were a pair I gestured to get rid of the other three. He did and was dealt three new cards that stayed on the table as even I was dying to have a look at.

He didn't, and backed more and more money on his hand. I was watching hundreds of pounds go into the middle and my man was staying with them even though we hadn't seen the three cards on the table yet.

Suddenly someone put a lot of money in and two others packed in their hands, I had my arms rooted around this guy and his hands were toying with my thigh's as he had a peek at the other cards. I only saw two and they was the same suit and my excitement was unfortunately broadcasted to all as the last guy packed his hand straightaway making us the winners.

Saying nothing, me neither, he took four £50 notes and looking at me he stuffed them down my bra. The next game he packed his cards early and it was Jean that I then supported. She was sitting with Sam but lost him his money again. Suddenly her mobile phone rang and looking a little concerned told me she needed to leave.

Explaining to me that I could call a cab and go or she would give me the keys to her hotel flat and see me there in the morning. I was having fun at the card game so with Sam promising to take care of me I knew I couldn't be in safer hands. So taking Jean's keys from her we kissed goodbye and I went over to the card table again. The American man called me over to his lap again so explaining to Sam that we were to leave together I went back over and sat on the American mans lap. The next hand was dealt and we both stared at the five cards.

"How many Pat?" He asked. I was at a lost as to what cards he had so looking at him he again pointed to what he had. Nothing I thought, so taking my word for it threw in his cards and started getting acquainted with me while the others played the game. George from little ole Philadelphia was busy telling me his life story as I watched piles and piles of money going into this card game. It suddenly looked serious as one man had run out of money and writing out a cheque for a thousand pounds he threw it into the middle of the table. Even George had stopped telling me his life story now as we all looked over to Sam, it was his turn and of course I was on his side to win. Tension was filling the air as he counted out a lot of £50 notes. Holding the bundle of money he was tense, looking at the other players I could feel something was wrong. He then threw his cards down and put the money back in his small pile of money he had left.

I didn't know what was happening as he angrily left the table. Feeling concerned I went over to him to make sure everything was ok. Not really caring for me however he told me that he thought he could have won that game, but didn't have enough money to carry on. I had the money still in my bra and offered him that, but kissing me on my cheek laughed and said it would take a lot more than that Pat.

"Me, put me in the pot and the winner gets me, that will be worth something Sam." I said.

"I couldn't do that Pat, I don't know you and anyway." Before he could finish I butted in and told him that any friend of Celina's is a friend of mine.

"Anyway, I have come here for sex and what an exciting way of getting it." I told him, almost insisting now and getting excited at the prospect. We could hear the others calling over to Sam and they were getting impatient now as I told him to go for it.

"Take your knickers off Pat." In a panic now his voice all of a sudden showed tremendous tension in it, so holding onto his thick arm I was given a chorus of whistles as I lowered them down and stepped out of them for him. Sam picked them up and walked over to the table and threw them in the pile with all the money. 

"One thousand pounds and I raise it to four thousand pounds with them." Pointing to my old and smelly knickers. A silence for ages as the other American inspected the merchandise looking me up and down to see whether I was worth whatever it was Sam had offered me for.

"That's four thousand of your English pounds, he says looking at me in a very suggestive manner, however without a moments hesitation he started to count out his large pile of fifty pound notes. While he did so I went around to him and cuddled my breasts up close to his back, while my hands went around his front quickly trying to excite him to stop him hesitating. A few kisses around his neck and he had the four thousand pounds counted out.

“You'd better be worth it bitch." He says while facing me and not letting go of the money. My hand slipped down further and took hold of his manhood and squeezing it gently I assured him I would be. With that he placed the large pile of money onto my panties which were also on a large pile of money already. Shouting over to Sam he told him to show him what he had as everyone's eyes looked over to Sam.

Slowly, even I was holding my breath waiting he turned over a ten, then a king, another and another until the last card which was another king. Silence again as I looked over to Sam's face, perspiration was running down his worried face when all hell seemed to break loose as my American friend let out a stream of obscenities and threw his cards down onto the table.

I could tell by Sam's face that he had won, but who had won me I wondered? Counting up the money Sam leaned over and gave me back my panties telling me he'd never forget the sacrifice that I was prepared to have done for him. Realising I wasn't going to get my fun I was somewhat disappointed now and not in a quiet voice I told my disappointed American friend also.

Sam needed some air and told me that we had better go now, as he had to get home and be up in a few hours. I looked over to the two Americans and asked them if they fancied playing cards with me. They did, so I went over to Sam and told him I'd stay on there and maybe catch him tomorrow.

Deciding to go to Jean's hotel we took some Champagne and a pack of cards and headed back to the hotel. It was already light outside and the city was waking up with the road sweepers and dustman going about their business as we walked arm in arm along the road. Through the lobby of the hotel I got the filthiest of looks from the early morning risers as my black leather suit was looking creased and worn out and barely covering my bum now as we walked to an awaiting lift. In the brightness it was the first time I had really got a good look at these two men, one I didn't even know his name, but George was a lovely looking guy and Harry was a lot more rougher looking but still handsome in his own sort of way. 

In the room we all sat around the dining table as I opened a bottle of the Champagne and poured us all a drink, while we were sipping it we talked about what kind of game we were going to play. Poker? No. I couldn't play cards so I decided on a game I had played before. All very light-hearted and simple we were each to have five cards each and the winner picked a dare for the looser to do. Because there were two men and me then it was decided that both the men had to have higher scores than me to win and I had to have the highest score for me to win.

So Harry dealt out five cards to us all and we counted up the totals. I won the first time and ordered the two of them to take their shirts off. This went on for a while each time an item of clothing was taken off until either them or I were naked and then dares were to take over. They were both in their boxer shorts and I had only lost once and had to remove my top, when I won again. Taking off their boxer shorts I got the first look of the excitement I was going to have this morning and was very impressed with both as each stood nice and proud for me. They must have cheated as I lost two in a row then; first I had to take my bra off and as I went to unclasp it I noticed both George and Harry's hands went below the table.

"You two doing what I think you are?" I said, immediately stopping in my tracks. Without letting them answer me I told them to stand up and sure enough they both had hold of their hard cocks. Trying to act provocatively now I unclasped my bra and cupping my breasts with my hands slowly revealed to them my breasts. Still a nice 34b I knew these were my best feature in this situation and was pleasantly surprised by the immediate reaction's I gave to them both. "Sit down." I ordered as we carried on with the game. Having my soiled panties still in my handbag I only had my skirt to take off when I lost again, deciding to leave on my hold-ups I was now as naked as I could be. So standing up, unzipping the skirt I let it fall to the ground as four eyes stared at my shaven pussy.

Not letting them stare for long I quickly sat down and being my turn to give out the cards I hesitated, put the cards on the table and asked what the next move was going to be.

"Well we are all naked now Pat, so it is all down to dares as you said." George said in a confident manner. So pouring more Champagne I passed around the cards. A let down as it was a no result, so we all breathed a sigh of relief. Harry's turn to pass the cards around. Picture, picture, picture, a ten and a nine. Forty-nine, silence as I watched their pathetic fingers worriedly adding up their scores. Twenty-seven George said in a worried voice, you beat me George, Harry said I only have twenty-two. In a cocky way I told them I had forty-nine and sipped on my glass of champagne as I thought up a dare for them.

"Jean licked and sucked on me some twelve hours ago now and had me climaxing in two minutes flat, so prove to me you are both as good as Jean." I said. Moving the cards and drinks I climbed onto the table and spread my legs for them to start. Harry went first, and he was good, quickly searching and finding my clitoris his delicate tongue concentrated on that and was disappointed when George told me the two minutes were up and that he had failed. His face covered in my wet juices I took hold of him and drew him close to me. Telling him how lovely that felt I was kissing him as George continued. In a different situation now, Harry carried on holding me close and as he held my head we kissed so passionately that George had such an easy job to do that I did orgasm before the two minutes were up. I was on a high and again disappointed when Harry this time pulled George's face from my excited pussy.

"Wanna carry on Pat, or shall we go somewhere more exciting?" George asked.

I was breathless as I lay on the table. "No, lets carry on it's beginning to get exciting." I say.

So helping me off the table I take a large sip of my champagne to quench my sudden dry mouth.

"My deal." Harry says, taking the cards and dealing them out again. It was my turn to panic now and I could only make twelve and knew I was in trouble this time.

"Seventeen." George gingerly said and Harry threw his cards down in disgust telling George he had forty-five. 

"Twelve." I said with a silly giggle knowing it was their turn now to make up a dare for me to do. Thinking a while Harry suddenly asked me to get dressed and then come and be their private dancers for them. Knowing Jean had a full wardrobe and was the same size as me I told them both to wait there while I went and changed. Looking through her chest of drawers I was surprised to see such an assortment of leather clothing and then having an idea I went to her undie's drawer, again it was full of an assortment of every imaginable item going.

I was gone a while but they seemed ok when I returned, although both a little disappointed in my sober choice of a maxi length grey suit, I did however have a large whip that I had found hidden away amongst Jean's undie's drawer.

Placing two dining chairs back to back I also found a winter scarf that I put around George's face so that he could only listen to Harry.

Telling them both they had to stay seated I went over and picked some music to dance and tease too. Starting on Harry I closed in on him, ours eyes were fixed together and taking his hands I run them over my body so that he could feel what I had on underneath. 




Private Eye



"Tell George what I am wearing underneath Harry." I said to him. Slowly his hands pawed my body stopping at every crease and join.

"She has some sort of suspenders on George; I can feel them he says. 

"Haven't got any higher yet though," laughing now he quips. 

Leaning over to George I tell him to start to rub his cock as I will be around to see him very soon and I want to see it nice and erect and inviting for me. Then taking Harry's hand I lift my skirt and ask him to describe to George in more detail this time. His also takes his other hand and begins to rub on his cock that is already nicely erect for me. Taking his hand I put it between my open thighs and ask him to tell George what I am wearing now.

"Mmm George, she has on a pair of shiny latex knickers and they are crutch-less." He says as I feel his fingers slip effortless into my body. I let out a sigh as George asks what is going on. Bending over once more I whisper into George's ear that Harry is fingering me as one of my hands drop down and caress George's manhood. Kissing his neck I ask whether he would like to fuck me yet while Harry's fingers make me catch my breath now.

"Oh yes please Pat." George begs for me now. Stopping Harry I go and take the whip and tie their hands behind their backs and with the access I tie the two chairs together. Then taking off George's blindfold I proceed to wrap it around Harry's head. Coming back around to George I slowly take the boring grey suit off and tell George to describe to Harry what I am wearing now.

George's cock is really rock hard now as he nervously tries to describe that I have a red satin Basque on and those latex knickers were actually matching red satin ones also.

"Oh Pat, please let me see." Harry asks, his voice pleading with me now.

Bending over George I now whisper to Harry and placing a hand on his hard cock I whisper that he will get a good look all in good time.

"Tell Harry what I am doing George." I tell him as my fingers provocatively disappear inside me between the slits of my red satin knickers. As George is telling Harry I come closer to George and with his hand still tied I ask him what would he like? 

"I wanna fuck you Pat." He says. 

"Tell Harry what you want to do George." I say. 

"I want to badly fuck Pat Harry." He answers. With that I tell him to carry on describing what I am doing and open my legs around his thighs and lower myself onto his awaiting hard cock.

"Holly shit Harry, she has sat on my cock." As I expertly ride gently up and down on George's lovely erection all the while telling him to carry on talking to Harry. Their conversation was very hurried and crude as I grind my body up and down to take all of George's cock into me. I then hear him groan and tell Harry that he is coming if Pat don't stop immediately. With that I pulled up from him leaving his lovely cock alone so as to prevent anything prematurely happen to him. 

Stopping, I walk around to Harry his hands still tied tightly as in one movement I lower myself onto him and taking off his blindfold start to gently lift myself off and push myself onto Harry's hardness. Each time I lowered myself onto him brought a cry of delight as George was trying to see what was happening. Realising that Harry was close to coming I stopped and standing up again went around to see George. A smile from him as I bent down and took his hardness into my mouth. I felt him squirm in excitement as I deeply sucked on him all the time we had Harry asking what was going on.

Suddenly George’s mood changed as I felt his body tense and his groans become louder. Knowing he was moments away from coming I stopped, kissed him on the lips and told him I’d be back in a moment. 

Repeating the procedure with Harry I knelt and took his cock deeply into my mouth. Sucking gently on it I heard George ask Harry whether I was sucking on his cock. 

"Yes she is George." Harry said, his voice seemed at an all time high and realising he was only moments away from coming also I stopped and kissing him told him also that I would be back to see him in a moment. 

Going back to George, his hardness was really looking tasty again but to put him out of his misery I squatted above it and started to raise and lower myself onto him. Shouting over to Harry that he was coming I felt his muscles tense and giving out a loud moan felt his cock throbbing deeply inside me. I carried on rocking gently up and down knowing George was filling my inners with his come. Leaning over towards Harry I kiss him on the neck while taking hold of his rock hard cock and a volley of obscenities from him as I feel his cock explode and his come flies all over his body. 

"Aw love, I so wanted you inside me now as well." I teased; knowing my aching body really did need a rest now. Gingerly lifting my aching body off George it is now past eight in the morning and knowing Jean would be here soon I asked George and Harry whether they'd like to continue this later. Both quickly saying yes I told them to relax for a while and we will wait the arrival of Jean. Feeling tired now I decided to lie on the waterbed, as the bed looked very tempting for my tired body. 

Leaving them there by the front door I went and had a pee and then to the water bed where the gentle rocking quickly had me soon in a deep sleep. 

Half past ten I was awoken, of course it was Jean, I had her clothes on, the two American's tied up to the chairs but not needing a word of an apology she was glad that last night proved to be a winner for me. We sat at the table and drinking coffee Jean was so glad we had become friends, George and Harry must have wondered what was going on as they heard us talking, however we were completely ignoring the two of them. 

Feeling sorry for them I untied them and apologising really told them that I was going to continue with them, but had too much to talk about with Jean. Promising them we would be at the club later I was glad they were quickly gone as Jean and I started discussing our life stories together. 

I thought I was unique and the only fifty something woman that wanted sex every minute of the day. Jean did, she was married though, and a real boring guy that got his orgasms by the millions of pounds he made. 

I had to confess to Jean, I felt so close to her and I have cheated my way into her life. She was hurt, hurt badly that I'd cheated her into wanting me, but coming clean and telling her the blonde guy was our second option at least made this heavy conversation a little lighter. She was also horrified that I could make money that way and eventually believing me that the money thing didn't matter at least I got her on my side eventually. 

I think she needed me as much as I needed her, she at least knew that her husband was suspicious of her. So that evening and the forthcoming weeks we satisfied ourselves with the American tourists and Sam also on more than one occasion, all the while reporting back to Mr. Jones telling him that Jean wasn't up to anything under hand.



Private Eye



"Oh, Oh Yes fuck me hard, fill me up with your sweet hot cum, make me cum again." 

My legs were aching from the forces I had put on them when I shoved my cock in her like I had been for the last 10 minutes, and I felt my spunk building up ready to fill her wet gash when it shot into her. 

"Now, Fuck me Now woman, Oh Yeah, use that hot pussy on me!"

She was going wild, her pussy was gripping my cock, squeezing it tightly as she worked it for me. I shot my load in her, my body shook from the wonderful feeling as I came in her. Her hips bucking on my lower torso and her legs had wrapped around my waist, pulling me to her in her effort to keep me held between her fat thighs. Her pussy hair was matted with her juice and now my cum as it was being forced out of her from the thrusting we were both doing.

I finally could go no more and stopped, laying my head on her shoulder, her hands running down my back stopping to grasp my ass cheeks and squeezing them in her soft hands. 

"Oh my God, that was so wonderful, I haven't had sex in months. I had almost forgotten what I was missing. Thank you so much Mr. Richardson!"

Her calling me Mr. Richardson while my cock was getting soft in her sloppy pussy sounded strange, but then I didn't care, I just smiled at her as my cock slipped out of her cum filled pussy. I got beside her on the couch and she surprised me again as she moved her face to my cum covered cock and began to suck it again. It felt too good still tingling from my orgasm and her tongue working her magic on it. When it was clean enough for her she took it out of her hot mouth, kissed the head of it and rested on her hip beside the couch, staring at it. 

I played with her hair a minute then got up and used her restroom. I grabbed a washcloth from the rack and washed up, walking back in I saw she was still laying there, not having dressed yet. A glow on her face, smiling. I got my clothes and dressed. 

"I think we have that bastard now thanks to your tape Mr. Richardson!"

"Yes Ma'am, that kind of evidence is hard to dispute."

I walked towards the door and she rose to kiss me goodbye, her tongue shot into my mouth, like she would never get another kiss the rest of her life. I kissed her back, then left. What a strange morning it had turned out to be, I show her the tape and she nearly rapes me to get back at her husband. I drove to my apartment, my day over, and not a bad way to earn $300.00 a day plus expenses. I showered and shaved and went to watch another tape in my collection. Then took a nap. 

I was called to be a witness at their Divorce, They sat there acting like nothing was wrong, just another day to them. When his lawyer called me to the witness stand he turned on the VCR. We watched it, Mrs. Neal's face paled as she watched. Mr. Neal smirked.

"Who is that on the tape Mr. Richardson" Do you recognize the people involved?"

"Yes Sir I do!" I stated. "As a matter of fact I do."

"And can you identify them for the court please?"

"Yes Sir, The woman is Mrs. Neal, the man is me!"

"Thank you!"

Mr. Neal left the court a happy man, Mrs. Neal a crushed woman. As I walked towards the exit, Mr. Neal walked over to me his Mistress on his arm and handed me my check for $25.000.00

"Thank You Mr. Richardson, you did you job well!" 

I never said I was an honest Private Eye, did I!

Authors Note: 

This story is Pure Fantasy, it never happened. It was only written for, You the Reader and my own enjoyment only! 

I do NOT believe in, or participate in Incest, Violence towards Women OR the Sexual Abuse of a Child of any age, consenting or not! 

If you enjoyed this story, please drop me an email with any suggestions or fantasies you would like to read about. 

Yes, I am a warped individual, but at least I still have my sense of humor! ;-) 



Private Eyes



At precisely 6pm, I set up my equipment and began my surveillance of Marcus B. Taylor, Attorney at Law. I had been hired to spy on the janitorial crew, more precisely, to catch a thief. 

Taylor believed that the janitorial crew might possibly be to blame for the disappearance of some valuable objects displayed about his office. He was perplexed, for the same people had been cleaning for years, and now suddenly, things were disappearing, when things had been fine for the longest time. 

I thought he was nuts to have thousand dollar art collectables sitting in his office, unprotected, but that was the rich for you. I was in an empty office, with just a desk, lamp, and chair. Waiting for the next occupant to stamp their personal touch on it, and make it theirs. I set my telescope, video camera remote control, and binoculars on the ledge, training them on the office of Marcus B. Taylor. I had a great viewpoint, and could almost see into the office with just my naked eye. But I wanted to see everything up close, so I brought the extra artillery. 

Things were uneventful, and I watched the pretty young janitor go about her duties in the offices on the floor below Taylor's office. She started with the cubicle area first, trashing, dusting, and wiping coffee rings from desks with an efficiency that I admired. Then she hit the offices at the back, where I couldn't see much of anything.

Then she came around the corner, and I watched her performance in the executive offices. Still she moved with the stealth and grace of a panther in the jungle. She used glass cleaner on the glass-topped desks, spraying her paper towel instead of the glass itself, so as not to disturb anything on the desk. I noticed that she touched nothing personal on the desk- just hitting the open spaces.

Yes, she truly was a professional. As she left each office, once she had vacuumed, she turned out the lights. She never even glanced at the objects in, or around the offices. I lit a cig, knowing I'd have to wait about an hour for her to reach the office of Marcus Taylor. 

I studied the janitor, and liked the slim, graceful body. She had a nice rack on her, easily a D, possibly DD. I loved big breasted women. She had a nice, firm backside too. High ass, very full, and her skirt clung to her buns like a second skin. I didn't know that they used such uniforms anymore, and I sort of admired her in it. Especially when she got down on her hands and knees, and picked up paper balls, tossed carelessly- miles away from the trash cans. 

When she did that, I noticed that my pretty little suspect wasn't wearing any panties! That got my attention, and I grabbed my binoculars for a closer look. She took much longer than needed to grab a few balls of wadded up paper. I got a great look at her pussy. Nice, plump lips, shaved clean, and flowering. Was she exhibiting herself on purpose, hoping that someone was watching?

My cock sprung to attention immediately at the thought, and almost at the same moment, I saw her hand go between her legs, and watched as she spread her pussy lips apart. I began to rub myself through my trousers. I was throbbing, and the tightness in my trousers was becoming unbearable. Just when I was ready to pull out, she removed her hand, and stood up.

She went about her cleaning duties as if she hadn't just fingered herself in front of me. I did notice however, that she began looking my way more often. Not exactly at me, but out the window, as if searching for whom ever was watching.

I had a feeling she was going to do some more playing, but as she came upon the last office, she'd still not made another move. Her cleaning had sped up- perhaps to make up for the time she'd lost fingering herself, I'm not sure.

Upon entering Marcus B. Taylor's office, she did not turn on the lights, as she had done in all of the previous offices. Here, she stood hesitant in front of the window. I made sure to grab the binoculars, as I didn't want to miss a single thing. I also hit record on the remote recording device I had planted in Taylor's office. They were small cameras, recording from several locations. 

She jumped, as if startled, then fished in her pocket for her cell phone. She answered it then leaned casually against the desk. I had a perfect shot of her, smiling into the phone on camera three. I wished I'd thought to install audio surveillance as well. I'd love to hear what she was saying to the person on the other end. 

I nearly jumped when she gave a little wave. Then, while I stood transfixed, she began undoing the buttons on the front of her uniform. Slowly, she began to sway sexily, still talking into the phone. Under the smock, she was naked as the day she was born. Her tits were perfect, firm, high and huge. I loved them. So did my throbbing member! 

I unbuttoned my trousers, but did not lower them. Not yet. It was too early for that. She played with her large nipples, getting them hard by pinching and twisting them to and fro. I loved nipple play, and would love to be salivating all over those rosy peaks, biting them, nibbling, sucking. My cock throbbed in response to that thought. Yeah, he loved to glide between warm mammary glands just as much as I loved doing it.

Her hands trailed from her breasts to her stomach, slowly, teasingly, and achingly erotic for those of us who watched her. I had come to the conclusion that she had someone in this building she was playing for, a boyfriend perhaps or a co-worker? Whoever he was, he was a lucky S.O.B!

Her fingers teased the lips of her pussy, long, pale fingers against a dark mat of hair. I liked that she was natural, preferring a woman's charms over that of pre-pubescent girls. She was 100% woman in my book. She hiked her leg up on the chair, spreading wide. Fingers slide inside the warm cocoon of her wetness. Shiny, slick, and wet, she plunged her fingers in again and again. 

At this point, I unzipped, and let my trousers fall to the floor. I worked my boxer briefs off with one hand, while holding the binoculars with the other. I slowly stroked my chub, which was rock hard. Pre-cum oozed from the head in copious amounts, which I used to lube my 7 inch prick. 

I nearly shot my wad when she got up, walked around the desk, and opened a box containing Cuban cigars. Nice, fat, individually wrapped cigars. I knew what was coming, and I switched from the binoculars to the telescope. 

I used the zoom of the scope, and lens and zeroed in on her twat, watching in fascination as she parked her butt on the chair, hefted her legs up onto the window ledge, and spread them as wide as possible. Camera four was also in perfect position for this escapade, located dead center in front of her. I took a moment to adjust the angle, aiming it straight at her pussy. I could see every glorious droplet of girl juice that leaked from her hole. I knew I'd have awesome jacking material from this tape!

She circled her engorged clitoris with the end of the cigar, teasing it until it was as hard as a tiny cock. I could see it pulsating, aching for relief! After what seemed like a very long time of just playing, she inserted that cigar into her soaking pussy, and began fucking her pussy with it. She started off slow, but soon I could see she was getting close to cumming. I sped up my strokes, fisting my cock even faster. I could feel the cum in my ball sacs boiling, tightening, ready to fly.

"That's it baby, work that pussy!" I whispered softly. "God, I'd love to be in that hole- love to fuck that sweet pussy."

Her fingers were stroking her clit now, the other hand pushing that fat cigar in and out. Her hips lifted up off the chair, but she didn't miss a stroke as she plunged the cigar in and out. All of a sudden, I knew I couldn't hold my orgasm back any longer, when she removed the cigar, and let loose a flood of juices. Her cum squirted out of her cunt, splashing against the window ledge, and even onto the glass. 

My cum erupted from my cock at the same moment, spurt after spurt of hot sticky semen coating the window ledge and glass. I pumped the last of the cum from my cock, as I watched her replace the cigar into the box, and get dressed. She wiped up her mess with shaky hands, cleaned the rest of the office then gave a little wave at the window, as she vacuumed her way out of the office. 

I sat down, to catch my breath, and give my shaky legs a moment to recover. I sat there for a good fifteen minutes then noticed someone enter the office. It was security, doing their rounds. I almost turned away, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw him pick something up. It was from the bookshelf, a small, expensive art object from the Orient. He slipped it into his pocket, and made his away out of the office. Luckily, the cameras were still recording. I would have to edit the tape so that the janitors escapade wasn't revealed, but showing the guards theft.

I had once again caught my man. Right now though, I was more concerned with catching up with the janitor. I wouldn't mind trying out that little hottie in person. Perhaps I should milk this job for a few days- see if she performed again?



Private Eyes



Hi Folks, thanks for taking the time to read and comment on my stories. This one was really fun to write. As usual don't take it too seriously, it's not meant to mirror reality. Also I still haven't come anywhere near Rehnquist's knack for dialogue so forgive me if I spice it up with humor or pop cultural references. Anyway, you need to be in the mood for this one, so put on the appropriate background music. You need to listen to Private eyes by Darryl Hall and John Oates. If you don't have it, just play the you tube video on your computer. Thanks again to those of you who read it. Dark glasses and a trench coat aren't necessary, but they might help too. 

# # # # # # # # # #

My name is Sarah Price, I was on my way to the airport and already running late when I stopped at the house. I only stopped here because my boss, Arturo insisted. I've never liked to meet the clients. I've always felt that it's a mistake. I prefer to simply do my job with a detached and emotionless attitude. I don't want to know the clients or the targets. It makes what I have to do easier. That way I can refrain from developing any opinions on the cases and stay professional.

Helen Harris came to the door. I asked her who she was and when she confirmed her identity, I sent her to get a form of identification to prove it. When she returned I'd already, unfortunately formed an opinion of her.

"I'm Sarah price, Mrs. Harris," I said. "I work for the Arturo Rios agency. Here is the tape of your husband's most recent week of cell phone calls and messages."

The woman standing in front of me just nodded. "Is there anything juicy on it?" she asked. "Time is getting short. You people need to dig something up soon or I'll be expecting to get all of my fucking money back." I heard a male voice from the other room and she thanked me and closed the door.

As I walked back to my car, I started wondering again why I did what I did for a living. The woman today was one of the reasons why I liked to avoid meeting the clients. 

There were no two ways about it that woman was the lowest form of scum. 

Helen Harris appeared to be in her late thirties, but could have been older or younger. She'd had a thin housecoat on and was naked under it. I truly wished that she'd taken the time to look at herself in a mirror before coming to the door because she had dried semen on her face and the smell of sex in the house was overpowering.

The male voice from the other room urging or ordering her to "Get her ass back in there," couldn't have come from her husband because he was currently in Detroit at some kind of automotive supplier's convention. I knew that because he was my intended target. I'd been given the case because the current operatives weren't able to turn up anything and Arturo didn't want to lose this case.

Judging by the question she'd asked me, Mrs. Harris seemed to believe that her husband was cheating on her. She was obviously cheating on him, so I just didn't understand her actions. Why couldn't the two of them just get a divorce and move on?

Of course I was sure that this was about money. Somehow these couples all started out very much in love, and they always ended up squabbling over money.

After a few years in this job, was it any wonder that I didn't date any more. I'd gotten to the point where I could tell by looking at a guy what his quirks were, and how our relationship would end up.

I simply no longer believed in love. I thought heavily about that as I waited for my plane to be called at the airport after checking in.

I have no illusions about myself. I'm pretty. I'm not bragging, I'm simply stating a fact. I was lucky enough to be born with a set of features that men find pleasing. I also have a well toned body that seems to please men as well. I just consider myself a normal girl. I can't help it if men's minds are constantly focused on sex.

Realistically, when it comes to men, a girl doesn't really have to be attractive to appeal to them. If she is though it only fans the flames hotter.

As I sat down on the plane, I noticed a guy two rows behind me get up and switch seats to sit next to me. "Hi," he leered. "Looks like good weather for flying."

I looked up at him, and in the most cheerful voice I could muster, politely answered him.

"What's your name?" I asked, opening my laptop.

"Frank Compton," he said flashing me a mouthful of yellow teeth. I quickly entered his name in a database that P.I.s use. Then I turned the screen and showed him the file on himself. He looked shocked that all of his personal information was so readily available.

"First off, Frank," I said. "I don't give a flying fuck about the climate. So your skills as an amateur weatherman are being wasted on me. Second I'm not interested in pleasant conversation or netting any new friends so take your fat, balding, beer bellied ass back to your original seat, or I'll call your wife Gladys and have divorce papers waiting for you before the plane lands. Do you have any questions?"

For a fat guy Frank really could move. He muttered "Dyke," and was back in his seat in less time than it took me to close my laptop.

I opened my briefcase and looked at the picture of Chris Harris. According to my information, he was only 28 years old. He was about 10 years younger than his wife. My first thought at seeing his picture was that he was pretty good looking. 

As I read the file I realized that all of my first impressions were wrong. Before I'd even looked at the file, I was sure that he was cheating on his wife. I guess that I'd come to that conclusion because she was the person who'd hired us to get evidence of his infidelity.

Looking at the picture and reading through the file, I saw a young, good looking man with an older, less attractive woman. I was sure that he'd married her for her money. After a closer look at their finances, I realized that he was the one who was supporting her. She had no money, and didn't work. 

Next I thought that maybe there'd been some kind of accident, and he'd married her for the sake of the child. They had no children, so that was out. This case seemed to be even more interesting as it went on.

A couple of hours later, as the plane descended, I still couldn't get the picture out of my mind. He was tall and handsome. He was also only a few months older than I am. Why would he saddle himself with that woman? She was 10 years older than him. She was short and chunky. Her ass was too big and her boobs were too small. It certainly couldn't be her personality. And to top it off, she was a slut. It just didn't make sense.

I checked into my room at the Westin hotel in Detroit. The Hotel was part of the Renaissance Center, in Detroit's Downtown area. Luckily the convention was being held less than a mile away in a conference center called Cobo Hall. I was sure that my target would have hated being in the Renaissance Center. It was GM's headquarters and he was supposedly heavily into Mustangs.

The room was nice as hotel rooms go, but I've been in so many of them over the years that the details have started to blur. I'm also so rarely home for any considerable period of time that I really don't remember many of the details of my apartment either.

I called the office back in Chicago to let them know that I'd arrived. Carla our office manager and Arturo's wife answered the phone.

"Hey, Sarah," she said. "How's Motown?"

"It's the same as every other crumbling industrial city," I said. "It's loud, aggressive and full of itself."

"Carl is really ready to hand the case over to you," she said. "His wife is due to go into labor any day now. Darryl will stay and assist you. He knows that you're in charge. Happy hunting, Sarah."

"Carla, there's something weird about this case," I told her. Carla, besides being a colleague was my friend.

"Sarah, there's something weird about all of them," she laughed. After hanging up the phone I brushed my long honey blonde hair back away from my face, and dressed in a very conservative skirt suit. The jacket and skirt were tan colored and set off my hair well. The skirt was below the knee in length, so very appropriate for a business setting. It was also tight enough to really show the curves of my ass. The silk blouse I wore under the jacket had large gaps between the buttons so glimpses of my lace bra would be available if my audience was looking for them. 

I grabbed my laptop and headed for Cobo Hall. My laptop and cell phone both had very powerful digital camera functions so if I caught Mr. Harris misbehaving at the convention, this could be over in a heartbeat. I entered the large hall and put on the visitor's badge Arturo had bought for me. It would be easy for me to blend in by posing as a distributed or buyer just as my target was. 

Of course he didn't have to worry about finding one particular person among a crowd of thousands of people as I did. And he also didn't have to constantly dissuade men who spent all of their time staring at his ass or his tits either.

I strolled along appearing to look at displays by different manufacturers of automotive components. I pretended to be very interested in some of the displays, although truthfully, I was even more convinced that men were out of their fucking minds. 

I mean I consider myself more in tune with reality than the average woman, but I was flummoxed. Why would anyone rip a perfectly good and adequately functioning exhaust system off of a car, just so they can install another system that looks exactly the same but sounds different, usually louder? 

Who cares what the exhaust system sounds like or looks like? Cars are just supposed to get you from one place to the next, with all of your stuff intact and without breaking down. The rest of the stuff that these people were buying and selling was pure bullshit.

I was just mulling that concept over in my head when I spotted him. It seems funny to me but the first thing I thought of was that he looked even better in person. The pictures I had of him already had me thinking that he was good looking, but seeing him in person simply underscored that fact.

There was also something different about looking at a real flesh and blood person as opposed to a picture. Sometimes people didn't look as good as their photographic representations. Like when you look at some of those supermodels. In pictures or on television they appear to be some almost alien, other worldly beauty, but then in person they turn out to be just some tired looking Brazilian woman with an overbite, a big nose and an attitude problem.

Chris Harris was the opposite side of the spectrum. He looked even better in person. He was more muscular than I'd expected, but not in that hulking gym rat way. He also moved with an efficiency of movement that was almost ballet-like. Watching him winding his way through slower moving people as he visited different displays was awesome. 

Here and there he lingered and spoke to a person or two at a display. He often took notes and promised he'd return to a specific booth or product that he was interested in.

Though following people without their knowledge of my doing it was a part of my job, I have to admit that following him was difficult. I was also nearly caught several times.

Party of the difficulty came from the fact that he moved so quickly, though it seemed effortless on his part. It was as if he had a different sense of balance and muscles than the rest of us did. 

Several times I nearly had to run to keep up with him, or try to find him again when he seeming disappeared into a gap in a crowd of people, that I simply couldn't follow him through.

He would also simply stop and stare at a product or booth that he found amazing or somehow distasteful.

The thing he did once that scared the shit out of me was when he suddenly, without warning, simply turned around in mid-stride and went back to a booth that had barely registered on his mind. As he turned he moved so quickly that I thought he was going to run into me. 

In fact there was no way to avoid the collision so I had braced for impact, only to find that he had somehow gracefully avoided any contact with me at all. 

The avoidance was also all him. I'd just stood there waiting for the impact only to find out that there wasn't one. "Sorry," he offered sheepishly. 

His heartfelt yet tentative smile made him appear shy, yet friendly at the same time. The very vulnerability he displayed in offering an apology when he hadn't actually erred was part of his charm.

If I had really sat down and thought about the way things were going, I'd have given up the case right then. Whether I knew it or not, that one word, "Sorry," had punched through my facade of professional detachment like a hard dick in a soft pussy, only I didn't realize it at the time.

I was so busy trying to pretend that I wasn't interested in him, that I didn't realize I was. While I tried to pretend to be bored with all of the proceedings, I did notice that more than a few of the women there were definitely interested in my target. A few of the models in the booths went out of their way to call his attention to themselves. 

While it seemed like a promising development for me, it soon proved fruitless. On the other hand it made sense to me in another way. When does a man turn away from the attention of pretty, well developed young women? There are only three possible scenarios in my reasoning.

The first theory, he was gay; was immediately discarded. The second that he was too busy concentrating on work or another obsession, I let sit for the time being, but did not discard out of hand. That just left the last and most promising, that he was in love.

I liked that one because it made the most sense, and possibly the most dollars. If there was some woman somewhere that he had an ongoing relationship with, we could report this to the wife and earn our payment. But then she'd be eager for us to get details and information and possibly evidence on the relationship etc. That would earn us even more money. 

He'd been extremely careful in covering her up thus far because some of our top operatives had yet to turn up anything. But now I was on the job and the game was afoot. It was corny but the song started running through my head. 

"Private eyes, they're watching you. They see your every move. They're watching you, watching you, watching you, Private eyes..."

Chapter 2: Chris

I have to admit it, I thought that afternoon, as much as I hate being away Helen, I loved the automotive trade shows. Though they were part of my job, the only thing I liked more, was car shows. 

The only thing that would make it better would be if Helen would come to the shows with me. 

Early on in our marriage, she had done just that. I smiled remembering her back then. She was smaller then, but so was I. I can still remember my jealousy when guys would stare at her ass in a pair of tight jeans. 

To this day I still loved her ass, and I guess I always will. Even when she's 99 years old and I'm 89, I'll still be smacking her on that ass.

I was like a kid in a candy store, as usual but I had to split my focus. On one hand there were plenty of vendors that I'd like to do business with. My company sent me to several of these functions every year to drum up new business. There were several companies here that we already distributed products for and several more that we were considering. On the other hand I had a list of modifications I was considering for my own Mustang back home, and there were lots of things here that I wanted to find out more about.

Of course there were lots of people to see and meet as well. Some were people I'd done business with and others were fellow road warriors I'd either competed with or worked with. I tried to keep all of my meetings and dealings with people at these things on a friendly but professional level.

That meant that I avoided the display girls with a passion. They were pretty and shiny and all of that but they simply weren't worth my marriage.

I still loved Helen deeply after all of these years and I was a firm believer in that old saying, "If you can't be with the one you love... Keep it in your pants."

Besides at 28, I was an old soul, firmly entrenched in the limbo between boyhood and elderly gentleman. I had to act like I had some sense and not get swayed by every pretty face that came along. Just like with cars. 

Believe it or not I was still in love with my 06 Mustang GT. Even though Ford had slightly changed the body style in 2010, I liked the 05-09 models better. I hated the fact that they'd narrowed the front grill, and angled the rear fascia. It made the car look like it was sticking its ass up for a butt fucking. I did like the sequential tail lights, so I'd bought a plug in harness from American Muscle and now my tail lights flashed in sequence the same way.

That same philosophy carried over when I thought about women too. Helen already knew how to do everything I liked, on the rare occasions when she was in the mood. Why spend all of my time breaking in a new woman when I had a perfectly good one whom I'd been in love with forever?

As I walked around for the first hour I was so excited that I nearly ran into another visitor. She was really pretty, with beautiful eyes and long honey blond hair. I jerked and moved around her as awkwardly as a God damned Clydesdale trying to avoid bumping into her. She must have thought I was as uncoordinated as a baby colt. I apologized to her, but she wasn't impressed with my apology. I could tell that by the fact that she just stared at me, and then walked off. 

I hope I don't end up having to do business with her company, because the first impression she must have of me is not going to inspire any confidence in my abilities.

After a couple of hours of looking at everything I have a good idea of where everything is, and the locations of all of the booths that I'd like to visit. Some places I'll visit for business reasons; and others for my personal interests. 

Probably tomorrow, I'll get down to the process of hitting every booth I'd like to do business with. 

I sat down at a table in the food court area to rest and grab a bite. I was lucky I got the last open table available. The promoters must have severely underestimated the number of attendees.

There were several people milling around looking for a table. I wouldn't mind sharing; you never know who you might meet at these things. Some guy who asked to share my table might be my next biggest client.

"Do you mind if I share your table?" asked a voice behind me.

"Not at all," I responded before I even knew who it was. I turned to look at the person I was about to sit with and found out that it was the woman I'd almost plowed into. My face instantly reddened.

She sat down across from me and put her laptop on the table. "Thanks," she said cheerfully. "There are too many people here and not nearly enough tables."

I nodded non-commitedly. I wasn't going to get sucked into a conversation with her. Still she was really pretty though. But unlike the models and car show girls here, she didn't try to trade on it.

Speak of the devil, before our conversation could go any further, two of the display girls that I'd seen earlier came over to our table and simply sat down. They weren't even polite enough to ask to join us they just sat down. I guess they were used to everyone falling all over them. 

They all but ignored my companion and didn't bother to introduce themselves. They just started talking to me. My companion suddenly seemed enthralled by the workings of something on her laptop. 

I used one of my tried and true methods to politely let the women know I wasn't interested in them. As I responded to their questions I was very terse, and I used my hands to underscore my answers. Most women would have taken note of my wedding band that I practically stuck up their noses but not these two.




Private Eyes



Since they obviously had no manners, I resorted to my usual back up plan. I simply got up and left, saying that I needed to call my wife. They continued talking as I left turning to my disinterested companion. 

Chapter 3: Sarah

As I sat down at the table near Chris, I had plan in mind. I knew that most men would be all over me with just a little bit of encouragement. If I could get him to do something with me, depending on how far it went the case could be over quickly. It really did depend though on how far things went, because I'm not a whore and there was no way I'd sleep with the guy for a case.

Surprisingly though after letting me sit at his table he didn't initiate any further conversation. He seemed to be content to just look at the handful of product brochures he'd already gathered. Needless to say my ego took a bit of a bruising. I was just about to ramp up my activities when the need to do so was taken away.

Two obviously interested display models sauntered up to the table, sat down and began speaking to him. They never bothered to even ask whether or not we were together. They also immediately blocked me out of the conversation. 

I booted up my laptop's camera and started video-taping the exchange. I was pretty sure these two would get some kind of reaction from him. They were both very pretty girls. The younger one was in her early to mid twenties. She had very long very light blond hair and green eyes. 

She had large obviously fake boobs and a breathy little voice. She had to be at least 5' 11" and still probably weighed less than I did.

My ego was really taking a beating today. If this chick didn't get to him, her friend probably would. The other woman was older, maybe early thirties. She was Hispanic, also very pretty, but where her friend was the slutty looking type, this woman was class personified.

Her dark chestnut brown hair was set back in one long pony tail. Her breasts were small and perky, but perfect for her body. She had a booty that would put Jennifer Lopez to shame though. I was not going to win in any category with these two present. 

They did whatever they could to engage him in a conversation. His answers were very long in coming and very short one word comments. Most people would have taken the hint that he didn't want to talk to them and left him alone. 

These two never considered that he wasn't interested though, so he ramped up his defenses. It was almost painful to watch as he started punctuating all of his answers with hand gestures that clearly displayed his large wedding band. It was like he was practically screaming, "Leave me alone, I'm married."

Naturally, these two either didn't notice what he was trying to say, or simply, didn't give a fuck. I have run into some women who prey on married men. Married men are much less likely to raise a fuss or cause problems because they have far too much to lose.

After only a few minutes I could see frustration building in him, so he abruptly got up and left the table after telling the two bimbettes that he needed to go and call his wife.

After he left they finally noticed that I was there. "Hey, you two didn't know each other, did you?" asked the blond.

"We were just sharing a table," I replied.

"Good," said the brunette. "I've kind of got my heart set on that one."

"Why," I laughed. "Aren't they all the same?"

"For the most part," she said. "But I do about 10 of these things a year. I see a lot of guys come and go. Most of them start looking for pussy as soon as they hit the floor. They also pump up their jobs and their importance, when it's too easy to check. This is the fourth time I've seen him at one of these things and I've never seen him act unprofessional or inappropriate even once."

"He's also very well respected among the vendors and the companies they represent. He does business fairly and from what I've found out is in line for a major promotion in his company. Of course, his being married is an issue, but not an overwhelming one. I actually like the fact that he's faithful to her. It means he'll be just as faithful to me."

I had to laugh at her confidence. "What makes you so sure you can get him?" I asked. 

"Just look at me honey," she said. "I can have any man I want without working up a sweat. And once he gets between my legs. He'll push a rusty spoon through his mother's forehead to keep me."

She looked me straight in the eye coldly. "And once I have him, I'll do anything he wants any way he wants it. I won't ever let him get away."

I don't know what I was feeling as I looked at her. Was she simply letting me know her intentions, or did she think I might be a threat to her plans? On some level I felt threatened by her as well. I didn't know why though. If she was successful in her quest it would actually help me. All I had to do was to follow her around and videotape them together. Then I'd have the evidence I needed. 

But something told me that teaming up with her would not be in my own best interest.

"Well I just think he's cute, and I'm going to fuck him before this convention is over," interjected the blond. "Mara you can marry him and have forty babies with him after I'm done with him."

For some reason I was beginning to get angry. Luckily my cell phone rang and ended the conversation.

"Sarah, meet me at the Concession stand," said Darryl. 

Five minutes," I said into the phone and then ended the call.

"Well ladies, good luck," I said as I gathered my belongings and got ready to leave.

"Who needs luck when you've got these," said the blond cupping her breasts. Behind us a man dropped his tray of food, slipped in it and fell heavily, in response to her action. Across the floor another guy ran into a pole and nearly knocked himself out. 

"See what I mean," smirked the blond.

"Nice distance, Amy," said the brunette.

I came in this convention hall knowing that I was above average in the looks department, but next to those two I felt like a boy.

A few minutes later Darryl walked over to me, pretending he was showing me a brochure. Darryl is an African American so seeing the two of us together was quite noticeable. 

"I've got something lined up for our target," said Darryl. "It's slightly under-handed but I'm desperate."

"Darryl, I'm supposed to be in charge," I said. "You should have checked with me first." he looked at me like a chastised school boy. Darryl was one of my best friends. He was very smart and had a degree in criminal justice. 

"Sorry," he said. "I'm not trying to step on your toes, but we planned this before you were assigned to the case. We've been following this bastard for 3 weeks and haven't got anything yet.

I knew from previous experience that Darryl was very good at his job. Perhaps he was too good. He tended to get emotionally involved with the cases. 

His involvement wasn't that he got to know the subjects or felt one way or another about them. His flaw was that he had never failed to deliver the goods on a target. In his mind he had a perfect record and he didn't want to see it bruised.

"What do you have planned?" I asked. Darryl quickly filled me in on the plan. According to the target's itinerary he would attend a video presentation set up by American Muscle. After that he'd return to his hotel for a while and then return for the Convention's opening night dinner. 

The dinner would also feature dancing, with music provided by a live band. Darryl had not one, but four hookers set up to meet Chris, either at the video presentation or at the dinner. If even one of them succeeded in getting him in a compromising position, the case would be over.

"Okay, it's kind of like cheating, Darryl, but let's roll with it," I said. It was funny to me that though I'd agreed with the plan, deep down I didn't think it was going to work. After witnessing his performance with the two display models, my subconscious mind had formed an opinion on Chris Harris. Unfortunately my subconscious was not communicating or sharing any information with my professional, rational conscious mind. 

My subconscious mind, also known as my heart, was telling me that the reason why the plan wouldn't work was because Chris Harris wasn't a cheater. That was also the reason why after nearly a month Darryl and Carl hadn't come up with as much as a shred of evidence.

An hour later I found the American Muscle booth and looked around for Chris. He was sitting very near the front in the second row. I spoke to one of the men walking around in American Muscle Polo shirts. 

I correctly assumed that since he was wearing the company's shirt that he was helping to put on the presentation. After promising to have a drink with him at the dinner later, and hinting heavily that something else might be possible after dinner, he seated me in the front row that was reserved for American Muscle employees. 

I didn't want to sit next to Chris again yet. Too many chance meetings, too soon would possibly alert him that they weren't just coincidences. This would be far better. By sitting in the row ahead of him, he'd have no choice but to see me. 

On the other hand I'd pretend that I didn't notice him at all. In a way I'd still be making an impression on him without having to do anything at all. I could hardly wait for the show to begin. I wasn't thinking of the American Muscle presentation either.

Almost on cue a slim dark haired woman came into the presentation area. She looked around and slowly made her way over to Chris. She looked around and finally very tentatively asked him if anyone was sitting in the seat next to him. I couldn't hear his response to it but he did look around to see if there were any available seats anywhere else. 

She was good, very good in fact. She sat down but not in the seat right next to him. She left an empty seat between them, but to make sure they weren't separated by anyone else she quickly put her purse in the seat between them.

This exchange also let me get to know a bit more about my target. Clearly Chris Harris didn't know how hot he was. Most men would have been broken their arms patting themselves on the back from all of the attention he was receiving from women. Chris was wondering why she wanted to sit near him when there were plenty of seats available.

The woman, who was one of Darryl's hired hookers, started trying to make conversation with Chris. I got excited. I knew that Darryl was behind them filming their exchange. I turned and pretended to look at something on the stage. Actually I was turning my ear so I could clearly hear what they were talking about. 

The hooker asked Chris about the company and their products and what they could expect to see. Chris pretended that he didn't hear her and looked around as if he was trying to see who she might be talking to.

The hooker came at him from a different direction. She told him this was her first convention, so she didn't know what to expect.

Chris actually lied to her. He told her that he didn't know anything about the company either, so she should just watch the show and find out for herself.

He buried his head in a brochure hoping it would end the conversations. Then disaster struck. I watched as Mara and Amy entered the auditorium and made a beeline for Chris. 

They weren't even trying to be subtle about their intentions. They simply walked up to the row he sat in, and Mara sat down in the empty chair on his right. Amy got ready to sit down in the chair on his left where the hooker had placed her purse. The hooker wasn't going for it though. 

She moved her purse and sat in the chair herself. The Bimbettes had tried unsuccessfully to separate Chris from the hooker. 

Chris quickly got up, and Mara grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back down. 

"Honey where are you going?" asked Mara. Her slight accent, lent an air of the exotic to her words.

"I...I...I don't know you," Chris sputtered. 

"Sure you do, we're old friends. You sat with us at the food court." said Amy, chiming in. The women's appearance alone had everyone in the vicinity watching the scene. As Chris had quickly stood up and started to leave, all eyes in the room were on him.

He looked around the room embarrassed, and our eyes met. In that instant time stood still and my heart went out to him. 

In the back of my mind that fucking song started playing again.

"I see you, and you see me. I watch you blowing the lines when you're making a scene, oh girl, you've got to know. What my head overlooks my senses will show to my heart. When I'm watching for lies. You can't escape my Private eyes. They're watching you. They see your every move."

I've been doing the investigation thing for a while. I've gotten to the point where I can tell when someone is lying, or even when they're hiding something. In that moment I was torn. 

On one hand as a professional I was intrigued by the situation and the chance to learn more about my target. My rational and professional brain told me to watch all of the players in the situation. See how they all reacted and compare their actions to their motivations, or what I knew of their motivations.

The bimbettes wanted Chris. They were slowly trying to draw him into their net. Every chance they had at contact they'd go for. Even a situation as disastrous as this one could be used for their end goal. Even with this seemingly blowing up in their faces it accomplished two things. 

First it made sure he noticed them again. The more contact they had with him, the better it worked in their favor. Second it gave them the opportunity for further contact.

The next time they saw him they'd simply approach him and apologize for embarrassing him.

As an added benefit they got to screw up whatever plans the hooker had for him. Even though she wasn't doing well, they made sure she was rendered ineffective.

The hooker was trying to save her payday. Sure she'd get a few bucks for trying. But she'd get $500 if she could get herself into his hotel room and more if she actually got him in bed.

My heart on the other hand felt like I'd just shot a puppy. That was after all very close to what I'd done. I'd taken a man who I'd known deep down, was trying not to cheat on his wife, and thrown him to the sharks. 

If I had any professional ethics, I'd just blown them. There was a big difference between watching someone who was cheating on their mate and getting evidence of it, and what we'd just done. 

We'd actually tried to create an incidence of cheating. We had crossed the line and now I had to watch it blow up in our faces.

Chris just said, "Please excuse me." Then, using that uncanny balance and agility of his, he stepped over the back of the chair in front of him, and walked away. For just a second our eyes locked again and he looked away. I felt even worse. He'd been personally looking forward to see this presentation and I'd caused him to miss it.

Chapter 4: Chris

I went back to my hotel room. I was really angry about missing the American Muscle presentation. Not only because they were already a customer of ours and I wanted a chance to look over their new offerings but because they were my favorite supplier of after-market parts for my black 06 Mustang GT. 

Something weird was going on. Those same two rude women from the food court were there. If I didn't know any better I'd think that they were following me. Maybe I'd accidentally done something to offend them and they wanted to embarrass me to get back at me.

I tried calling Helen at home. When I was really down, hearing her voice always made me feel better. Lately though, she seemed to always be in a bad mood. I seriously believed that she was going through menopause early. 

It was starting to look like our decision to hold off from having kids until I got a job where I didn't have to travel as much might not have been the right one. It didn't matter to me as much though. I wanted to have kids, but I couldn't live without Helen. 

"Why the he'll are you calling me?" said Helen, snarling at me from the phone.

"I just needed hear your voice." I said. "There are some strange people here. I'm not really having the best time."

"What do you expect me to do?" she asked. "Drop what I'm doing and fly to Detroit to hold your hand? God damn it Chris, you're a grown ass man. I can't do everything. A marriage is supposed to be a partnership. Hold up your end. I'm busy right now. Goodbye."

"I love you Helen," I said to the dial tone. Then I changed into a pair of long, running shorts and a tank. I grabbed my iPod and went to the hotel's workout room. 

I loved to run and generally preferred to run outdoors, but I was in a strange city and didn't know the area very well so I decided to take the easy way out. I found a treadmill along the wall and got on it. I set the speed at a comfortable yet challenging pace and lost myself in the music.

Chapter 5: Sarah

After Chris left the presentation there was clearly no reason for me to stay either. The guy from American Muscle that I'd charmed earlier looked hurt that I was leaving before their presentation even started. "What about later?" he asked with a whining tone in his voice.

"Sweetie, as much as I was dreaming about fucking the shit out of you," I said. "There can't be a later. I'm doing this to protect you."

"Protect me from what?" he asked.

"My husband," I whispered. "He's very jealous and it looks like he followed me here." I winked at Darryl, and he got up and headed towards us.

"Here he comes now," I said. I watched as the guy's eyes got bigger when Darryl approached. Before Darryl got near us the guy was gone. "Let's get out of here," I laughed to Darryl.

Darryl and I went back to my hotel room to talk and to plan. Darryl was probably the most polite man I knew. He stood by the door in my room shyly, while I walked around grabbing things until I noticed him standing there.

"Darryl, it is okay for you to have a seat," I said.

"Well, that went really badly," he said. "I really think our girl had a shot at it until those other two whores showed up."

"Believe it or not, the other two weren't pros," I said. "The dark haired Latina thinks she's going to be his next wife."

"What about the volleyball player?" he asked. 

"Her name is Amy, and she just wants to fuck him before her friend marries him," I replied.

"Well, I still think our plan has a chance at success," he said. "Our chances would be even better, if those two don't show up at the dinner."

"They probably won't be there," I said. "The dinner is for customers not vendors. So we should have a clear shot."

Darryl's phone rang and he answered it. It was Arturo, checking on us. Darryl ran him through what was going on and relayed the news from home. Carl's wife had gone into labor as soon as he got back. It was as if the baby had waited to be born until his or her Daddy was there to witness it.

As Darryl relayed the information to me, I had a strange thought. I wondered if I'd ever get married and have a husband and children of my own. Almost as soon as the thought popped into my head I expunged it.

I'd been having really weird thoughts since this case started.

"Darryl, what do you think about this case?" I asked him.

"It's fucking weird," he said. "This guy is pretty fucking sneaky though, I'll give him that. I'm not sure he isn't sneakier than the guy we caught who was fucking his kid's teacher though. But sooner or later they always slip up. Sooner or later we'll nail his ass. I'm sure of it."

"Darryl, why are you so sure he's cheating?" I asked. 

"Oh my fucking God," said Darryl. "Listen to this." He played me the tape of Chris calling his wife at home after he left the presentation. Darryl thought it was funny as hell. He kept playing the last part over and over. "I love you, Helen...beeeeeeeep," 




Private Eyes



Suddenly, I was pissed. I had never felt angrier or sadder in my life. "Shut the fuck up Darryl," I screamed. There were a few silent moments between us. Then I took a breath and apologized to my friend.

"Did I do something wrong?" Darryl asked.

"I'm sorry D; it's not you it's me. I just have this feeling that we're the bad guys this time," I said.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Sarah, we're not the bad guys or the good guys. All we do is observe and compile evidence. Our targets are judged by their own actions. They'd still be just as guilty if we weren't there. What we do brings resolution in difficult situations."

I'd heard that fucking speech from Arturo more times than I could even remember.

"Darryl, what if the reason you couldn't get any evidence on this guy is because he really isn't cheating?" I asked. "You said we only observe, if we were cops, us planting and aiming hookers at him, hoping he'll fuck one of them, would be called entrapment wouldn't it?" he nodded his head. 

"I think we've gone beyond observing and are now trying to force this guy into doing something he isn't. And that does make us the bad guys," I said.

"But he has to be cheating," said Darryl. "He simply has to have something on the side. There's no other explanation for it."

"No explanation for what?" I asked. 

"For taking all of that shit from his wife," snapped Darryl. "She treats him like hell and he just laps it up." I nodded and Darryl continued.

"Have you seen his wife," asked Darryl. I nodded again.

"She's older than him, doesn't work, has no money other than what he gives her and isn't very attractive," I said.

"Isn't very attractive," echoed Darryl. "That bitch looks like Frodo Baggins."

"She's also cheating on him," I said. Darryl was shocked.

"Why the fuck would he put up with all of this?" asked Darryl.

"You heard it on the phone D," I said sadly. "He loves her. We see her as a lazy, freeloading, unfaithful, ugly assed skank, but he loves her."

"Let's give this tonight and tomorrow, and if we haven't come up with anything by then, we'll have to talk to Arturo," I said. Darryl nodded in agreement.

Darryl went back to his room, leaving me to get ready for the dinner. For the first time in my life, I questioned both my job and my path. Over the past four years I'd seen plenty of marriages end. I'd seen a few made stronger by infidelity, strangely enough. And we'd brought honesty and closure to a lot of bad situations. This was the first time when I'd actually felt badly about what I was doing. 

Then there was the fact that I'd seen so many men and an equal number of selfish scheming women just fuck over their spouses and significant others that I'd pretty much lived the life of a nun. 

What good did it do me to start dating a guy, when as soon as I found out his name, I'd do a background check and discover everything about him and his past before he ever told me about it? 

Any and every little white lie they told to build themselves up was mine for the taking. Plus I was almost a human lie detector. And the second a man told me even the smallest lie, I was all over them like stink on shit. No one would ever take advantage of me damn it. 

But where had it gotten me? Nowhere, and that's a fact. You know those sad old ladies who walk the streets all day, and then go home to a lonely house with nothing but the TV and a three legged cat for company? I was just like them, except I didn't even have the fucking cat.

I had the feeling that I was at a crossroads in my life. If I did the wrong thing here, I'd better start visiting animal shelters to find my companion.

Darryl had gotten a perfect gig as a waiter for the dinner. It would allow him to go anywhere on the premises and hide cameras to get video of Chris misbehaving. Darryl still maintained a professional and determined attitude but frankly though I'd never admit it, I was sure that Chris wasn't going to do anything. A small part of me was pulling for him.

I stayed at that fucking dinner for nearly four hours. The whole first hour Chris didn't show. I was sure he was very nervous about coming to it after the scene at the presentation earlier. When he finally did show up, he was clearly not as jubilant as he'd been when he first got to the show. He spoke to a bunch of his business contacts and even ate at a table with several of them. 

I couldn't help but notice that a lot of the spark in his eyes was gone. I didn't know whether to attribute it to missing the presentation or to his wife's shitty behavior. 

All three of our hookers struck out. After the dinner was over several ladies asked him to dance. In each case he politely shook his head no, and showed them his wedding ring. I thought that it was also a case that maybe he couldn't dance.

I was proven wrong on that score as well. The daughter of one of his customers, who couldn't have been older than twelve or thirteen years old, stood up when a newer song came on. She stuck out her hand in front of Chris and they headed for the dance floor. The man can definitely dance. When they sat back down Chris got several other offers but once again hid behind his ring. Why the fuck couldn't I find someone like that, I wondered.

Soon after that he left for the evening. I felt even worse. Darryl did point out that there was a man at the dance who appeared to be more than a little interested in me as well. At first I thought it was the guy from American Muscle, but Darryl told me it wasn't him.

"Maybe he just likes you," said Darryl. "Believe it or not, you are an attractive woman." I just smiled and found myself wondering whether or not Chris thought I was attractive.

Chapter 6: Helen

"Can you believe the nerve of that bastard," I snapped. "How dare he interrupt me with his petty bullshit? Where were we?" Robert pointed at his dick. I walked slowly back to him and got on my knees. I slowly and lovingly started licking and sucking his penis until it was hard again. Then he grabbed me roughly by my shoulders and turned me around. He spit on my ass and rubbed it into my anus. 

"No Bobby," I whined. "Please not there, I'm still sore from this morning."

"Okay," he said. "I don't want to force you to do anything against your will. Where's my coat..."

"You can do it," I said in a very small voice.

"What did you say?" he asked loudly.

"I said you can fuck my ass," I replied.

"Nope he said, I think I'll be leaving now, it doesn't sound like you really want me to do it."

"Bobby, I'm begging you," I said. "Please fuck my ass. You can fuck my ass anytime you want. It's your ass." Truthfully, I hated anal sex. Bobby didn't enjoy vaginal sex with me because my pussy was kind of stretched from my husband's larger, fatter dick. But I was addicted to Robert and couldn't refuse him anything. 

"Well, if you really want me to," he smirked. He got behind me and roughly shoved his dick in my ass and started pumping away.

"That's it you nasty old slut," he said. "Take my dick up your ass." After a few minutes the pain went away and I started to enjoy it. A few more strokes and I began pushing my ass back at him. Suddenly he lurched crazily and pulled his dick out. I knew what was coming so I crawled around and got ready. Robert shot a thick line of sperm right in my face. I knew better than to try to wipe it off. He liked to see me with his semen dripping on my face. 

Several times he'd even taken pictures of me like that. Then he spit on me several times.

"Oh baby, that was good," he slurred. He staggered away from me towards the bathroom. Then he turned back to me. "I've got an idea," he said smiling. He came over to me and my heart lurched. I hope he didn't want me to do what I was thinking. Then he just let go and a warm stream of piss drenched me. 

I felt totally humiliated, but I didn't say a word. I was too busy trying to figure out what I'd use to clean it up so the smell was gone before Chris got home. After Robert got done peeing on me he held his dick up. Then he backed away from me. I knew this part. I was supposed to crawl after him on my knees, and then such his shit covered dick.

I tried not to retch as I ran my tongue over the head of Robert's dick. Meanwhile he was in heaven.

"Your wife doesn't do this for you, does she baby," I said.

"I'd never let her," he said roughly. "Because, I love her, and she's not a slut."

I paused again. "Robert there's something we need to talk about," I said. Even as I tried to figure out how to begin what I wanted to say to him, his words registered in my mind. He'd said, "I love her." Didn't he love me?

He'd also said, "She's not a slut." Is that how he saw me?

"Bobby, I'm pregnant," I said, looking to see his reaction.

"Why are you telling me?" he asked. "Are you trying to tell me that we can't fuck anymore because you and your husband are going to have a puppy? Okay then this will be our last one, then. It hasn't really been that much fun lately anyway. Truthfully Helen, you have become kind of long in the tooth. It's time you started thinking with your brain instead of your twat. Having a kid will certainly make your little hubby happy."

"Robert, it's not his baby. It's yours!" I screamed.

"Oh no it's not you stupid cunt," he yelled at me. "There is no way you're going to tie yourself to me. You need to go and have this thing taken care of, today. I'm not going to risk my marriage for a fling with an old tramp. So you need to take care of this shit. Don't call me until you fix this." He practically ran out of my house grabbing his clothes as he went. I sat there on the floor in shock. I don't know how long I sat there before I heard her. 

"Hello," she said. "Is anyone there?" a kind of matronly Hispanic woman was standing in my living room. She saw me on the floor and ran over to me. "Mrs. Harris," she asked. I nodded my head woodenly. She gingerly stepped around a pool of urine on the hardwood floor.

"Are you okay?" she asked. I shook my head. I didn't think things were ever going to be okay again.

"I fucked up badly," I told her. I spent the next few minutes crying out all of my problems. She listened and didn't once try to judge me. I even told her about some of the things I'd done for Robert. I explained my past with Robert to her as well. 

Even before I got married to my current husband, I'd known Robert. My first husband had died serving in the army. While he was overseas fighting in the gulf war, I'd been at home screwing Robert. Then when my husband was killed, my guilt caused me to stop seeing Robert. 

A few years later I was married again and just starting to put the past behind me, partially due to the unrestricted love Chris had always shown me, Robert re-appeared.

Chris always treated me far better than I deserved. He's younger than I am though and he kind of puts me on a pedestal. He literally gives me anything I ask for.

I guess that's I have some deep seated issues though because as nice as it is to be held high and worshipped, sometimes I just need to be taken down and fucked.

I guess I thought that Robert loved me too. In fact all of my plans were centered around, Robert and I both getting divorced and moving in together to raise our baby. I see now that my plan isn't going to happen. In fact that leaves me up shit creek without a paddle.

"Maybe your husband won't know the baby isn't his," she said.

"Chris has a very rare blood type," I told her. "Every time we go to our hospital, they beg him to donate. Sooner or later it'll come out."

She shook her head. "The stupid thing about all of this is that I love being married to Chris," I said. "I love how caring he is, and the fact that he loves me unconditionally. I also love the way all of those stupid younger women throw themselves at him, when they don't have a ghost of a chance of getting him."

"Robert was never supposed to be a replacement for Chris. He was supposed to supplement him. I guess I wanted to have my cake and eat it too. I wanted my loving husband whenever I wanted him. But I also wanted to have an evil nasty bastard on the side," I told the woman.

"Then when I found out I was pregnant, I knew the baby was Robert's. I really wanted it to be the other way around. Chris would be the perfect father. But the timing was just off. I started treating Chris like shit because as much as he loves me, I know he won't stand for this. Chris is the sweetest, most easy going guy in the world, but he won't share his woman or his car with anyone."

"I started planning my divorce weeks ago. Robert told me that Chris was probably cheating on me while he was on the road, so I hired an agency to follow him. My lawyer told me that in the case of a divorce, especially if the baby isn't Chris' child, but was conceived during our marriage, I probably wouldn't do very well."

The woman just looked at me and shook her head. "Well normally what I'm about to tell you would be considered good news," she said. "But in your case, I'm sorry but it won't be. Listen to this." she played me back another days worth of Chris' phone calls and a log of his activities at the convention so far. They had even gone as far as to hire hookers to try and trap him. He even refused to so much as dance with other women. "Your husband is not cheating on you," she said. 

The dagger in my heart of course was hearing our phone call yesterday. At the time when I spoke to him I was so busy trying to get back to sucking Robert's dick that I hadn't recognized how emotionally drained my own husband had been. I felt even worse after hearing him tell me he loved me, after I'd hung up on him.

Chapter 7: Sarah

"Early this morning when I got out of bed I realized that I couldn't work this case anymore. I'd called Arturo and told him to send someone else to support Darryl. I'd packed all of my stuff and was going home as soon as my replacement arrived. 

Don't ask me why I did it, to this day even I don't know what motivated me, but I needed to see Chris one more time before I rode off into the sunset. I went over to the convention center for breakfast. I saw Amy and Mara setting up their booth before the majority of the attendees came in. I went through the buffet line and got myself a cup of coffee and some French toast. I sat down at a table, and my timing was excellent. I got the last small table available. 

A few minutes later Chris walked in. I noticed Amy's eyes settle on him as soon as he entered the large hall. She must have some kind of dick-seeking radar, I thought. Chris got his food and started looking around for a place to sit. I stood up and called him over to my table.

"I owe you a seat anyway," I said. He just smiled shyly back at me and started to sit across from me. "Sit over here, next to me," I said.

He just stood there and didn't move.

"I know you're married, but don't worry, so am I," I lied. I wave my arm and Darryl came over. "This is my husband Darryl," I said. They shook hands and Chris sat down as Darryl returned to what he'd been doing. 

Once Chris saw that he was in relatively safe hands, he relaxed a bit and we had a great conversation. We talked about a lot of things including the insane amount of affection that some people had for their cars. Chris even showed me way too fucking many pictures of his Mustang back home. 

I noticed that the bimbettes were not pleased by the fact that Chris and I were conversing. Fuck them I thought. But they were the least of my problems. Chris had just gotten done telling me how he and his wife Helen met. She'd been his baby sitter growing up and he'd fallen in love with her though she was ten years older than he was. 

He'd fallen in love with her when he was 6 and she was sixteen and never fell out of it. She'd gotten married and her husband was killed in the army or something. Chris had nursed her out of her depression and gotten her to start living again. A few years later he asked her to marry him and she turned him down flat because of their age difference. He kept asking her every day until she finally agreed. 

I saw then that he really did love Helen. He was only talking to me about her because he thought that we had something in common. What he thought we had was the fact that we were both involved in unconventional marriages. He was married to a woman who looked much older than him, and he thought that I was married to a black guy.

My heart clutched in my chest all over again. It was then that I realized two things. The first was that from the very first time I'd seen this man, all I had done was to lie to him and deceive him. He didn't deserve that. I prided myself on my ability to tell when people were lying to me, so shouldn't I try to be honest myself?

The second thing I realized was that somehow during the last few days I had fallen for this man. My epiphany was cut short though when the yelling started.

"You fucking, lying, low rent, heartless, cut throat bitch," he screamed. I turned my head away from Chris and towards the sound of the disturbance. It was the guy who'd looked at me from the party the previous night. He was talking about me.

He lunged at me and narrowly missed. I did fall over my chair though. Darryl jumped at the guy, but it was like the guy had been expecting it. He hit Darryl in the face with one of the metal chairs around the table. Darryl went down hard and didn't move. 

I was on the floor, trapped by my chair and trying to get my taser out of my purse. The guy was standing over me fuming. He reached his arm back to hit me. The look in his eyes was so focused on me that I could tell whatever his beef with me was, he wanted to kill me. Shock at what was going on had dulled my senses and I'm not above admitting I was scared. 

As he reached that big ham sized fist back, intending to flatten me with it, I might have peed in my panties just a little bit. Darryl was just starting to move, but there was no way he'd get there in time if he did get back up. 

Someone was yelling to call security. I'm sure they'd be a big help. I tried to brace myself and crawl away but the fist started to descend. Out of reflex, I closed my eyes and shrank away from the expected blow but it never landed. I opened one eye and then the other, as I heard a slap at about the time the blow should have struck me.

Chris was standing over me, and had caught the punch in his hand. He reached over and inside, placing his forearm in the man's elbow joint and in some kind of wrestling or Judo move, folded the guy's arm around his forearm. Suddenly the guy just went to the ground. It was some kind of joint lock. I must have been asleep when they taught that move in my self defense class.

"Calm down," Chris told the man. "There's never a reason to hit any woman."

"She's not a woman," said the man. "She's a cold hearted unforgiving bitch who took my wife and kids away from me." 

The man just folded up and started crying like a baby. I tried to place his face and he suddenly looked familiar to me. 

"It's going to be okay," said Chris. 

"Don't believe anything that bitch tells you," said the man. "She pretends she wants to get with you, but she's really some kind of private eye. She was hired by my wife to catch me cheating. I lost everything in the divorce. I only get to see my kids once a year." The security guards finally took custody of the man and led him away.

"Thanks," I said to Chris.

"Was what he said true?" he asked. He was looking at me differently. I could tell that even though we'd only spent the last hour or so talking, he was looking back at every time we'd met or been around each other. 

"It's my job," I said. "When people are in love, they're vulnerable. They have doubts. What we do is to help them remove those doubts. We give them the confidence to fully give their hearts and their love freely without doubt that the person they love, loves them back. If we can't give them that, we give them the evidence to make sure their divorces go pretty easily."




Private Eyes



He just looked at me. A crowd had gathered around us. Everyone in the room was literally staring at us.

"Boy, I'm stupid," he said. "I know we just met, but I liked you. I thought maybe we could be friends. I've been kind of down on myself lately because it just doesn't seem like Helen is very happy with me. I was hoping you could give me some advice to make her love me again. What a sucker I am. She hired you didn't she?" I nodded slowly. 

"I wanted to tell you," I said. "But you don't have to worry. Everything in our report will tell her how much you love her, you're clear." Even as they came out I knew that my words were just words and didn't mean anything. In fact they meant less than nothing. The worst part was when he said that he liked me. He said that he thought we could be friends. He'd been letting me inside his guard and that asshole had fucked it up. 

The words from that God damned song were back in my head. "You play with words, you play with love. You can twist it around baby, that ain't enough. Cause girl, I'm gonna know. If you're letting me in, or letting me go. Don't lie, when you're hurting inside. You can't escape my Private eyes."

The hurting part was clearly the most painful. My heart literally hurt me, and I could tell as I watched him walk away, that I had shattered Chris as well. 

He didn't trust many people at any rate, but he had just begun to let me inside his envelope of trust. Not only had I proven untrustworthy, I'd revealed the fact that he couldn't trust his wife either. And the fact that as much as he loved her, she still didn't trust him.

I was devastated, and I was in no mood to be fucked with. So, as I turned around and faced the bimbettes, common sense should have warned Amy, but blonds have never had very much of that.

"I thought we'd made our intentions clear to you yesterday," she said to me in a nasally voice. "I guess I don't have to warn you again, because you really fucked things up with him." She smiled a satisfied little smile in my face. She never actually saw the punch I knocked her down with. She just got up woozy and holding her mouth as her lips swelled up. 

I grabbed Darryl's arm to try to rouse him. He was groggy and complaining about his neck being sore, so I took him to the emergency room.

Chapter 8: Chris

I had a rough couple of days. After the incident at breakfast when I'd discovered that Sarah wasn't really a friend, I'd immediately left and got on the first plane to fly home. I'd realized why Helen had been so short with me lately. She didn't trust me. Maybe someone had given her idea that I was cheating on her. I had to let her know that I never had and I never would. I loved her only. And I loved her more now than when I first fell in love with her at six years old.

I left the airport and got back into my beloved Black Mustang. I made short work of the drive from the airport to our suburb. The house felt strange as I left the garage and walked up my driveway to the door. Just before I put my key in the door, my next door neighbor, Ricky Ricardo came running up to me. "Chris," he said. It came out "Kdeese," his thick Cuban accent obscured my name. Ricky was a great musician and band leader but he simply murdered the English language. I couldn't make out a word he was saying. 

Luckily for me his wife Lucy, came over and told me that Helen had been taken to the hospital. I drove right over here and had to wait for over an hour while they pumped her stomach. I had to fill out a whole bunch of medical forms and explain my whereabouts to the medical staff before I was allowed to see her.

I just knew that somehow it was my fault that my wife had tried to kill herself. I sat at her bedside with all kinds of questions running through my mind. Was her suicide attempt related to her thinking I was cheating on her? Had I somehow driven her to this?

When Helen finally woke up I got the whole tragic story from her. Helen still loved me, as much as ever she'd said. But we had a couple of issues hanging over our heads. The first was that she'd heard from a friend of hers that I'd been cheating on her. Since she was older than me she bought into the fact that I might be tired of her and ready for a younger, fresher woman. I thought it ironic that the only woman I'd ever looked at was the one she hired to spy on me. 

She'd hired the private eyes to find out if I was. If I'd cheated on her, she'd be destroyed by it but she loved me too much not to fight for me. So she just wanted to know who she'd be fighting against. She would never let me go without a fight. 

I determined right then that nothing would ever separate us. No matter what it might be, we'd be together.

Then there was a more serious problem. The first one could have simply been viewed as a misunderstanding. The second was far worse. Part of the reason that Helen had been acting so strangely lately was because she was keeping a secret from me. A Few weeks back, she'd been raped. She was so embarrassed by it that she never said anything to anyone about it. After a few days she'd become depressed and withdrawn into her shell. She was sorry that she'd shut me out, but she was just so ashamed. 

She'd recently also discovered that she was pregnant and she just didn't see a way out of that. She was afraid to face me with the news that she was carrying someone else's child, especially when she'd put off having children of our own. 

She saw no way out so she'd decided to take her own life.

It was a lot to process, in a short amount of time. I pulled her to me hugging her and told her that nothing would ever separate us. I also told her that loved her too much to let her go. We both cried and I held her until her nurse came in and told me that I could come back the following day, but I needed to go home. 

The nurse also told me that. It would be a while before Helen could come home. She had to stay in the hospital for 72 hours for observation, and then she'd have to be evaluated by a therapist, before she would be released. 

When I got home I went inside and sat down on my couch. Things were moving way too fast for me to process them. 

Someone knocked on my door. I got up to answer it, and saw that it was Lucy Ricardo again. She handed me a sealed envelope with my name on it. She told me that a woman had knocked on her door and told her to give me the envelope. I thanked her and went back inside.

Lucy hadn't wanted to leave. I think her natural curiosity and penchant for getting into trouble, made her really want to know what was in the envelope.

Alone in my living room I opened the envelope and was shocked like never before as my world the way I knew it ended. Inside the envelope was a note with only thirteen words. The note was scrawled in crayon so no one would ever recognize the handwriting. 

"Don't be a sucker. She's cheating on you. It's his baby. She's lying."

There were also a couple of really terrible pictures. One picture was a close-up of Helen's face. She had dried sperm all over her face especially around her mouth. The second picture showed Helen and some old guy, that I didn't recognize fucking on my sofa. He had his dick rammed up her ass, and from the expression on her face, she loved it. There was also an audio tape where Helen told some other woman the whole story. 

By itself I'd have dismissed the note. The pictures could have been faked, but I recognized Helen's voice and together all three pieces of evidence were enough to rip my heart out.

I spent the evening curled up on my couch. After a while I realized that I was lying on the same couch that Helen had fucked that guy on, and I almost threw up.

I'd always thought that I would love Helen forever. I guess that deep down inside I still did love her. But I just couldn't wrap my head around the way she'd treated me. I had evidence that she'd cheated on me. At the same time she had so little trust in me that she'd had someone following me around to see if I was cheating on her. The worst part of all though was the way she'd calmly looked me in the eyes and lied about it all.

I didn't even know if she'd really tried to kill herself. Maybe she'd just done that to get my sympathy started so she could tell me her pack of lies.

The next morning I called my boss and told him I needed some time off, to take care of some personal issues. I guess most guys would have ran back to the hospital and thrown the papers and the pictures in Helen's face. They'd have demanded to know who the guy was and how long it had been going on.

My problem is that I'm simply not very confrontational. I was hurt very badly. But I just needed to get away from the source of my pain. Seeing Helen in my condition would only make things worse. I needed to go away to think about something other than my problems, so I could heal. I guess it sounds cowardly but let's face it we're all different. This was my way of dealing with it.

I signed up for one of those racing camps where they teach you how to drive your car better. I got a session that was due to start in two days and hit the road. 

I didn't really think I needed to learn to drive better. It wasn't like I wanted to be a race car driver or anything, I just wanted to try something new and get away from my life. I called my lawyer from the car and had him start drawing up the papers for a divorce.

I guess here, I also deviated from conventional wisdom. How does a man love a woman so much that he can barely breathe without thinking about her one day, and the next day want nothing to do with her? It doesn't seem possible. But when that man over the course of a few short hours has been repeatedly lied to and deceived and begins to believe that the whole thing was done just to cover up the fact that the woman he loves thinks he's a fool and doesn't love him, It becomes very possible. I know that I still had very deep feelings for Helen. I also knew that despite her words to the contrary, Helen didn't love me. 

I explained the situation, and the pictures and the note. I even played him part of the tape. He told me how sorry he was and agreed to take care of it for me.

The camp was in Arizona so I had a lot of time to think on the drive down there. Just before it got dark, my cell phone rang. I thought it was my lawyer but it was Helen. Apparently this was the first time they'd let her have the phone. She'd supposedly been frantic with worry all day.

"Where've you been honey?" she asked.

"Helen, maybe you've got me confused with Robert," I said coldly. "I think you dialed the wrong number by mistake. This isn't your honey. It's just your dumb assed husband who's loved you since he could barely walk." She stopped talking and I could hear her breathing but she didn't say anything.

"Over the past few days I've learned a lot about people Helen. Maybe I've been too trusting or just stupid, but that's over now," I said. "Please don't ever call me again. I've already instructed my lawyer how I want to handle the divorce. I'll give you until the end of the week to get everything you want out of my house. Then I'm putting it on the market."

"Please Chris, I know I fucked up," she said. "We need to talk about this. I think I'm going through a mid life crisis or something. I'll get Therapy. This doesn't have to be the end of us. We can get past this. I'll never see Robert again. I'll put the baby up for adoption or whatever you want. Don't leave me Chris. You can't leave me. You love me."

I hung up the phone. It rang again five minutes later. I looked at the caller ID and saw her number so I didn't bother to answer it. Over the next hour she left me fourteen messages all of which I deleted without listening to them.

Just after I'd settled in for the night in my motel room, my phone rang. I recognized the number, and quickly picked it up.

"Hi Chris, can I stay in your house tonight?" she asked.

"My house is your house," I said. "At least until I sell it."

"You're not really going to sell this place are you?" she asked. "It's so beautiful. And it took you guys so much time, and so much money to get it like this."

"There's too many memories there Jane," I told her. "And I'm not even sure how many of them are even real now."

"How long will it be until you get here, so we can talk?" she asked. 

"Janey, I'm not even in Illinois right now. I'm about half way to where I'm going," I said. "So anything you want to talk about we should start on now."

"What really happened between you and my stupid sister?" she asked. "She called me crying her eyes out. She said you walked out on her over a misunderstanding and she got so depressed that she accidentally took too many sleeping pills." 

I snorted when I heard that version of the situation. None of it was an outright lie, but none of it was exactly the truth either.

"I know that you wouldn't ever leave her over something silly," said Jane. "You love her too much. For years I was jealous of her because by all rights you should have been mine. You and I are far closer in age and in temperament than you and Helen are. Of course the problem is that you've spent most of your life following her around like a lost puppy. Have you ever even dated anyone else?"

"Nope," I replied. "I never wanted anyone else."

"Have you ever had sex with anyone else?" she asked. Before I could change the subject, she started laughing.

"Jane, Helen cheated on me, with some guy named Robert. She's pregnant with his baby. I have to move on with my life, so I've filed for a divorce," I said.

"You are not serious," she said. "There's no way she could be that stupid. If I'd known what this was about I wouldn't have come here to try and help her."

"Well Jane, now you know. You're welcome to stay in the house for as long as you need it. Please take some of Helen's things with you when you leave. It'll make packing easier for her," I said.

"Chris, I know that what Helen did was wrong. She fucked up big time. But she really does love you. Are you sure there's no possible way for you to ever get past this?"

"None that I can see," I said slowly."Good night Jane."

Almost as soon as I hung up, the phone rang again. Damn I was popular tonight. I didn't recognize the number.

"Hello," I said.

"Chris, where the hell, are you?" asked a female voice.

"Who is this?" I asked back.

"Your best friend," the voice said. Then I barely heard her say, "Gotcha." Then she hung up.

For the rest of the evening I didn't answer my phone. In fact after 2 more calls from Helen, I turned the ringer off. I didn't see any reason to speak to Helen ever again. We simply had nothing to talk about. 

I felt like the biggest fool on earth. I had loved that woman since before most of my friends even liked girls. Actually I'd fallen in love with her before I even liked girls. When she first started babysitting me, I thought that girls were simply useless and strange. I saw no point in being friends with any of them. They weren't any good at baseball, they couldn't climb trees worth a damn, and they were afraid of frogs. What good were they? 

On the other hand they liked things like dolls and absolutely silly games. They were just useless. 

The first time Helen babysat me was a revelation. There was just something about the way she spoke to me and took interest in everything I said. I followed her around like a lovesick puppy and simply never grew out of it. She could get me to do things by asking me, that my parents either couldn't get me to do, or had to threaten to beat my ass to get done. There was nothing I wouldn't do for Helen.

On the other hand there was always mutual animosity between me and any boy that Helen dated. I simply could not abide any other man who wanted my girl. I remember when Helen turned 18 and started dating Jeremy Martin. I was only 8 at the time and Helen went into the kitchen to make my pre-bed snack. My parents never indulged me that way but Helen always gave me a snack and read me a story before I went to sleep. She also sat beside me and held my hand and gave me tiny little kisses on my forehead and cheeks until I fell asleep. 

Anyway while Helen was getting my Oreos, I went back to the living room to get my favorite toy car. It was a Mustang naturally. Anyway, I heard that asshole telling a friend of his on the phone that as soon as she put the kid to bed, he was going to hit that pussy and dump her the next day. 

He didn't really like her and she had no tits. He'd put up with her shit for long enough, without getting any from her. So, tonight was the end, and he wasn't going to take "no," for an answer.

I crept back to my room, angry. I didn't understand most of what Jeremy had been talking about, but I didn't like it. When Helen came into to my room, we both noticed each other. I noticed that Helen was wearing perfume. I didn't like it because it smelled like flowers, and flowers to me were as useless as girls. I liked Helen's natural scent.

Helen looked at me funny, because I guess it was the first time she'd ever seen me angry.

"Chris is there something wrong?" she asked.

"Helen, what are tits?" I asked.

"Chris you shouldn't say that word," she said gently. "It's not a nice word. But it's how crude people refer to a woman's breasts."

"What does hit that pussy and dump her mean?" I asked next. Helen was really shocked then. 

"Chris where did you hear these things?" she snapped.

"That's what Jeremy was telling his friend on the phone while you were making my snack," I said.

"Don't worry about stupid Jeremy," she snapped. "He's not going to be hitting anyone's pussy around here. And we'll see who dumps who."

Helen left the room and in a few minutes I heard yelling and screaming coming from my living room. I got out of bed to see what was going on and when I looked in the room I saw Jeremy push Helen down on the sofa. He was loosening his belt and standing over her. Of course I know what he was going to do now, but back then my 8 year old mind thought he was going to try and give "my Helen," an ass whipping.

I got even angrier and grabbed my baseball off the dining room table. I threw the baseball across the room. It was the best fastball I ever threw. It slammed into the back of Jeremy's head like a rocket. He never saw it coming. He just folded up like a lawn chair. I can still remember Helen hugging me as I stood over him glowering.

Before he fully came to his senses Helen got him to his feet and out of the house. From that day on I was Helen's little hero. She always told me things, like when I was older she was going to marry me. To her they were just cute things to say that she never took seriously, but I believed her every time.

I didn't find out for years that I hadn't actually saved her from Jeremy, I'd only delayed it. Less than two weeks later Jeremy did fuck Helen and then dumped her right after he got done with her. He also passed her around to some of his friends. I guess that was what really started Helen down the path she was on. She had a deep seated need for a man who would abuse her. All the love I felt for her, and all the years I'd devoted myself to her meant nothing compared to that. 

It was an addiction she couldn't kick. Like a man who gives up smoking. Sometimes they don't smoke for over ten years and then they hit a stressful situation, and they end up smoking all over again.

Anyway, I was done with Helen. She broke my heart, but I'd get over her. She could have half of everything I had, but she couldn't have my dignity. And she couldn't have my heart anymore either.

At the race camp, despite the fact that I thought I was a great driver, I learned so much that I didn't know. I learned about actually using the gears in my transmission instead of just going through them. I learned different techniques of shifting gears. I also learned about picking the best lines on a course to cut down on the distance I drove and improve my car's ability to get around a track. I was in love with driving my Mustang all over again. I decided that this wouldn't be a one-time thing, I'd be back, and I'd be back a lot.




Private Eyes



Chapter 9: Sarah

I looked at Chris' credit card charges and noticed that he'd signed up for a race driving school's weekend seminar. On one hand I was a bit afraid for him because though performance driving schools were mostly safe, accidents were well known, and a few deaths had occurred. I didn't want anything to happen to him.

On the other hand getting away from the bitches, me included, who hurt him, would be the best thing for him. The school he picked was in Arizona. It would take him a few days to get there. I called his cell phone and tracked it to see where he was. All I needed him to do was pick up the phone. The tracking system would do the rest. When he picked up the phone I couldn't resist talking to him, "Chris where are you?" I asked. He asked me who I was. I guess he didn't recognize my voice. That was understandable since he'd only heard it once or twice, but it still hurt. "Your best friend," I said hanging up.

When Chris got to the track the next day, I watched him drive into the parking lot and sign in. I was already working as an assistant cook in the only restaurant in the facility. It was the perfect temporary job, because it gave me access to all areas on the grounds. And he'd probably come to the restaurant at least twice a day, if not more. He also wouldn't see me since I'd be working in the back of the kitchen. I wore a brunette wig and big glasses and still had guys hitting on me. 

I very nearly lost the job the first time Chris walked into the restaurant. Brandy, the waitress there attached herself to Chris before he even sat down. She was all over him like a cheap suit. She rubbed his arm as she helped him sit down. She "accidentally," rubbed her boobs on his shoulder as she gave him a menu. She reached all the way across the table putting her ass right in his face, to get him a knife and fork. I knew that she carried silverware already wrapped up in napkins, in the pocket of her apron.

She was smiling like a fucking Cheshire cat when she came back into the kitchen. "I'm gonna fuck the shit out of this one," she said. "Maybe I'll marry him and have his babies."

Until Chris walked into that restaurant I liked Brandy. But she didn't realize how close she came to getting tazed and choked to death that morning. 

On the other hand, I laughed my ass off when she left a slip of paper with her phone number on his table, and later returned to find out that it was still there.

That afternoon as I watched him drive, my fingernails dug into the bench every time he took a corner at high speed. I realized that I really had a problem. My original goal in following Chris around was because my conscience told me that I should try to restore the balance in his life that my investigation had destroyed.

When I entered his life he was a really happy, genuinely nice guy who loved his wife and believed that she loved him. I had helped to take that away from him. He still had a great job and a good life, but I wanted him to find someone to replace the love that I had helped to destroy.

That got me to thinking. Why didn't I want to see him with Brandy? I told myself that I needed to check her out first. I also told myself that I had to take care of his divorce first. There was no way I intended to let that old slut take him to the cleaners.

I have to give Arturo a lot of credit too. He could have simply fired me. I was going to quit, but he told me I could simply work around my own schedule. I could take part in cases and still handle my babysitting job, which was what he called me watching over Chris. Years from now it would pay off for Arturo, but that's another story.

Over the years I've come to have relationships with many of the lawyers in town. We do referrals both ways. Lawyers often refer a client to a PI to help get evidence for a divorce, and vice versa. It came as no surprise to me that I knew the attorney that Chris had retained.

Chris was giving that dried up Hobbit looking bitch far more than he should have, just to get rid of her. On the other hand she was fighting tooth and nail to stop the divorce or delay it. I have to admit that my behavior was just as unscrupulous as hers was but I had to save Chris from her. 

I had Carla constantly call her and give her, "advice," that while it seemed helpful was actually cutting her own throat. When she had a conversation with Carla, and told her that she missed Chris with all of her heart and would give anything to have him back, we burned the recording of that talk. 

But when she said that one of the reasons that she had to get him back was because she'd have to get a job and she didn't want to work, that conversation was saved and given to Chris' lawyer.

Finally, if we lived in a perfect world everyone would be honest and forthright. But let's admit it. That would be a pretty fucking boring state of events wouldn't it?

It just so happened that I knew a clerk in the courthouse who had a regular meeting with the wife of one of his best friends. I also had pictures of one of those meetings. In exchange for the pictures he assigned Chris and Helen's divorce to a judge who had a reputation for hating cheaters. 

That same judge was known to nearly throw out the sentencing guidelines in cases where the scheming and cheating was over the top. He'd been burned by a woman like that himself once.

So my poor Chris went to court expecting to lose half of his assets and went home shocked. A file was left on the judge's bench by an anonymous source that detailed Helen hiring our agency to track her husband while she was actually cheating herself. The report even told how certain operatives had actually tried to trick Mr. Harris into cheating at Mrs. Harris' request. Her selectively edited conversation with Carla and the original file that I sent Chris were also there. 

I think Chris noticed me sitting off to one side in the rear of the courtroom, in the same disguise I used in the restaurant, but I'm not sure he recognized me.

The judge had a fit. He got so angry that he granted the divorce and gave Chris an unheard of 80/20 split with no alimony and no child-support, since the baby wasn't his.

Helen had a breakdown of some sort in the courtroom. In the days that followed she constantly called and tried to visit Chris until he had to have a restraining order issued. She was desperate to get him back and claimed she couldn't live without him. It got so bad that she had to be institutionalized. 

She was still on Chris' health care plan, so he did go and visit her a couple of times. The first time he was there he sat in on one of her therapy sessions. He sat in the back of the room and didn't participate or comment. 

He did speak to her briefly in her room. He told her that she needed to get over him and move on with her life, because he was trying to do the same thing. He told her that he'd give her some money if she needed it. He also told her to go back to Robert. 

Chris had taken no action against either Robert or his marriage, because he didn't want revenge or anyone hurt. He just wanted to move on in his life and be happy again. He told Helen that he had nothing against her, and he thanked her for all of the happiness she'd given him over the years. He was only sorry that the love he gave her either wasn't what she needed, or wasn't enough.

After that he left her room. He never intended to see her again, but he was called back the very next day. I'd cultivated a friend in the clinic that Helen was in so I knew what happened before Chris did. 

Helen's room had bars on the windows to prevent escape, but it did have windows. In the summer the large industrial windows were raised to let in a breeze. One of Helen's windows was broken and wouldn't stay up. The large metal framed window was held up by placing a wooden rod on one side of the frame. 

A few hours after Chris left her room, Helen place her neck on the window sill with her eyes facing up. She called out for an orderly. It took a few minutes for the man who worked the floor to come into her room. When he walked into the room she calmly said, "There's a note on the desk." As the man looked at the desk to see the note, thinking she wanted him to mail it, Helen smiled at him and said, "Goodbye."

She slapped the rod holding the heavy window up, and the window closed on her exposed throat like a guillotine. It was a sad ending for a truly troubled soul. I wish I could say that I shed a single tear for her, but truthfully I didn't. After the way she'd treated a man who spent his entire life loving her, the bitch got what she deserved.

As far as the note goes, Chris never got it. It was pure shit. I tore it up as soon as I got it and paid the orderly three hundred bucks for it. What kind of sick person writes, "Chris, I can't live any longer, knowing that the man I love, no longer loves me. I go now to a better place hoping that sooner, rather than later you'll join me and we can forgive each other and be together for all eternity. It was signed, "Your Helen forever."

That bitch was crazier than anyone ever imagined to even think I'd let Chris read a letter like that or ever hear about it. She was trying to play on his guilt hoping he'd do what she'd done. I couldn't allow that.

Six months later Chris started dating and much to my regret, fucking Brandy. He only went to Arizona every other weekend. When Chris was in town, Brandy was all his. The rest of the time Brandy fucked whoever she pleased. When Chris got home one weekend he got another file from his best friend.

The file contained pictures of Brandy fucking several guys on the new bed he'd recently purchased for her trailer. On his next and final visit to Arizona Chris showed Brandy the pictures. She cried, and begged him for another chance. He told her he'd talk to her when he came back to the track. He never went back.

Chris started dating a few women sporadically, but he didn't seem happy. I almost had a heart attack when he dated that bitch Mara from the convention. Luckily for her it didn't work out.

I had to admit that Chris was sinking into a depression and there was nothing I could do about it. 

Chapter 10: Chris

Last night as I was leaving my office, a guy stepped in front of me. He was a large black guy who somehow seemed familiar to me. 

"Chris, can I talk to you?" he asked. I nodded my head. It wasn't like I had anything else to do. 

"Can we sit down somewhere over a beer?" he asked and I nodded again. "Do you still go to Arnold's?" he asked. I nodded for a third time. "Meet me there in 10 minutes," he said, leaving. I took my time driving my little pony to Arnold's. I was racking my brain trying to remember where I'd seen the guy before.

I walked into the bar and looked around. I spotted the guy sitting at a table with a big Hispanic man. I joined them. 

"Chris, first I want to thank you for saving my bacon 16 months ago. That guy came out of nowhere. If you hadn't stopped him, he might've killed me and Sarah," said the man.

"Now, I remember you. You're that nosy Investigator's husband. Your wife helped to ruin my life. If I had known who or what you guys were doing, I probably wouldn't have stopped him," I snapped.

Both of the men looked at me, and then at each other. Then they laughed. "Yeah, you would have," said Darryl. "You've been a Boy-Scout all of your life." Both men nodded and took a sip of their beers.

I gestured to a waitress who knew me and she went behind the bar to get my favorite drink. The two men were drinking Coronas and they looked at me strangely when she put the bottle down in front of me.

"I don't always drink beer," I said. "But when I do, I prefer Dos Equis," after that we were all laughing like old friends.

"So what is this about?" I asked. 

"This is about Sarah," said Darryl. "She's obsessed, distressed, and depressed, and I must confess, I can't take it anymore."

"Well, consider yourself lucky," I sneered. "At least you have a wife to care about. So what is she upset about. Did you guys run out of people's lives to fuck up?"

"She's upset about you," he said calmly. "Sarah probably won't admit this, but she's in love with you."

"Whoah, I haven't seen or spoken to your wife since the day at the convention," I said. Both men laughed again. 

"Of course you haven't," said Darryl. "She's very good at what we do. But she's always been within 10 minutes of you since that day. When you ran away to play with your car in Arizona, she was the dark haired woman who worked in the restaurant. That same dark haired woman gave the file to the judge at your divorce. The voice on the phone claiming she was your best friend. The one who kept giving you files and information on that waitress you were fucking in Arizona and everyone else who wasn't good for you for the past 16 months. She's basically put her life on hold to watch over you," he said. 

My jaw dropped, and I took a sip of my beer. "Why is your wife following me around?" I asked in shock.

"She's not my wife, and I already told you she loves you," he said. "And you know something else? Do you remember how well the two of you were getting along before that nutcase attacked her? I think you like her too." 

They both looked at me. I remembered that Sarah was really pretty. And I actually had been feeling guilty the whole time I spoke to her at the convention. Even though we were only talking, it felt like I was cheating on Helen. 

"So what do you want me to do?" I asked. 

"Just sit down and talk to her, is all I'm asking," said Darryl.

Chapter 11: Sarah

I got a call from Arturo on my day off. I was pissed. I had plans for the day. I needed to go over the personnel files of every eligible woman who worked at Chris' company. I couldn't afford another Mara. It broke my heart every time I thought about him being with a skank like her. I needed to find a nice girl for him. Someone he could grow to love and have babies with. I knew it would kill me when he finally found someone, but I wanted her to be perfect for him.

Arturo told me to dress up and make myself beautiful again. He was tired of me showing up to work looking like an old shoe. I showered and put on a nice dress. I went to the address Arturo gave me and discovered that I'd been to the place before. It was one of the places Chris liked to hang out in. I hoped he wasn't here. 

Arturo met me in the parking lot and gave me the assignment. I was supposed to do surveillance on a guy who might be cheating on his girlfriend. I started to object. Arturo knew that I don't do those cases anymore. Ever since Chris, I do insurance fraud or other things. "Do this one for me, please," Whined Arturo. "This guy is a real scumbag. He's nothing like your Chris." 

Why was Arturo calling him "My Chris," did everyone think I had fallen for him? 

"Arturo, don't ask me to do this again," I snapped. 

"He's sitting at the third table on the right," smiled Arturo. "Thanks Sarah, you won't regret this."

"I will if Chris goes out and gets hurt or gets his heart broken while I'm watching your scumbag," I said.

What I couldn't figure out though, was why Arturo was grinning broadly as I went into the bar.

I got a table and called the waitress over. She brought me a glass of white wine and I sat back to watch the scumbag. He was fidgeting nervously at his table. That was exactly the type of behavior you'd expect from someone who was cheating. 

Suddenly all of my instincts came back online. I was going to enjoy nailing this son of a bitch to the wall by his nut sack. It was guys like this one that made it so hard on the good guys like my Chris. Did I really call him that? 

I was on the hunt. Then believe it or not someone put my favorite fucking song on the god damned juke box. I was humming along with the song "Private eyes," when suddenly they got to the third verse and I realized that I'd been set up.

"Why you try, to put up a front for me. I'm a spy but I'm on your side you see."

I got up and approached the table. When I got there I sat across from the man and noticed that the long greasy hair he wore was a wig. And his big nose and glasses were one of those Groucho Marx masks from a joke shop. I laughed just as Darryl hall and John Oates sang, "Slip on into any disguise. I'll still know you, look into my private eyes."

I pulled the mask off revealing Chris' handsome face. 

"It took you long enough to figure it out," he said. "I thought you were supposed to be some kind of private eye. If I hadn't had them play that damned song, I could have been sitting here all night." he laughed as he said it. "What are you doing Sarah?" he asked.

"Something I've wanted to do forever," I said as I kissed him. The kiss was even better than I'd imagined it would be.That kiss must've lasted for ten minutes. It told him everything he needed to know about me. I already knew everything there was to know about him.

In the end, just as on every hunt I've ever done, I got my man. That night at Arnold's may have marked the end of "Private Eyes," but it was only the beginning of Sarah and Chris. We've lived happily ever since. But that's another story.



Private Eye's Birthday



In the dimness of the evening light, it looked like two pale bodied women sitting together on the couch. Al could see them quite clearly now through the three story high plate glass windows of the estate. They sat there watching the sun going down. He thought perhaps they were really dedicated sun worshipers because they sat there with almost no light, completely naked, trying to work on their tans up to the last moment.

It wasn't such a bad way to spend his birthday, he figured. 

The one had a gorgeous pair of long legs, one crossed over the other. Actually...Al zoomed his lens in - they both had great legs. Both had perfect cupcake size boobs with light brown nipples, and pretty shoulders and arms and skinny waists and perfect hips. And there they had sat since 2pm, in the full sun, sipping what looked like soda in glasses.

Al had seen quite a few beautiful women in his time as private dick, but never such a pair. Not even in Hollywood.

Now the one stood and he felt the bulge in his pants strengthen. She was really quite tall, and slinky. She turned to her friend who also stood, and they came to the window, perhaps, as Al thought of it, confident that no one could see them. He licked his lips as he focused.

The other one was just as tall! He figured by the angle and the size of the sofa cushions and a flower vase (a duplicate of the one he had in his apartment and knew the size of), that both girls were 5'10 and...

--He nearly dropped his field glasses.

Hanging limply from the crotch of each was a tiny, fingerlike member and a small scrotum!

Now they turned to each other, and right in the middle of that incredibly expensive living room, they pressed themselves together, front to front, and kissed. Al's prick rose up even further. It had been a half mast since two, but now it thickened and moved and he could feel the snail's trail of precum that had dampened this underwear.

--Even if they were guys, and he wasn't into guys.

"...god they're so beautiful though!" he whispered to himself. "That's why I've never seen them around - they're not exactly mainstream Hollywood! Shit. God look at that!"

Both their cocks were hard now. They were no more than a couple of inches long, but they were being pushed and smeared and rubbed together, as the pair bumped their hips together and went on kissing. Al looked up from that point of contact, seeing their small but natural tits smashed flat together. He looked again and admired the feminine sweep of their heart shaped asses - now in profile - and licked his lips.

But they still had their big sunglasses on. Hard to tell who was who, but they surely looked identical. He tried to mentally summon up fact sheets with lesbian - no strike that, tranny-girl - twins, and could not. And now the one on the left, the one with the black hair, dipped down to her knees. Al decided to refer to them as 'her' and 'she' because...no man ever looked that gorgeous! And now she leaned forward and began sucking the dick of the other one. It still didn't look 'homo' though. The other one, still standing, raised her arms above her head and arched her back. She looked so hot, Al knew he was going to jerk off over her when he got home. He grabbed up his low light camera and started to snap a few shots off. 

"You are sooo chick, girl - I mean, boy!" he whispered, then caught his tongue between his teeth and concentrated.

Al shot three rolls and then nearly dropped the camera when both girls stood, kicked off their high heels and sat sideways to the window. The one on the right lifted her one leg and pointed her beautiful foot at the other, and the other took that lovely foot and began bathing it with her tongue. Al nearly shot in his pants. He squeezed off ten or twelve shots on that alone, and then another dozen when the girl on the left lifted her foot for the girl on the right. Mutual foot licking, and then...toe sucking.

"...and their legs just go on forever," he whispered. Then each girl brought her other foot over and between both of the other's, and started massaging and working each other's cocks with their toes. Al's mouth fell open. He was alone and hidden in the trees. Nobody would know if he whipped it out and jerked off. He needed to. Almost five hours of watching two luscious ladies - or ladyboys - sitting around naked, and now, this! He started to reach down for his zipper, but then two more nude women entered the living room. The two on the floor turned and waved at the newcomers and then Al watched as the two new ones quickly strapped large dildos to their crotches. He noted through the low light lens that these were truly female, with no balls or dicks. Then the two on the floor leaned to each other on their hands and knees, started kissing, and went on kissing while the two new guests got behind them, oiled them up with something, and then proceeded to ass-fuck them with those big rubber dongs!

"Amazing!" Al said. He'd totally forgotten about his own dick and simply watched and squeezed off shot after shot. The two new girls must've been twins too with long legs and small boobs like the first two. They sure knew how to use those dildos, he thought, and licked his dried lips again.

Ten or fifteen minutes later the first pair threw their heads back, crying out. Al was too far away to hear, but he could see their ribs as they inhaled, and then saw them straining as they moaned. The ones doing the fucking just kept right on going, holding the fuckees by the hips and slamming that rubber meat into them. All watched with eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He looked down and could see jiz spitting out of both of the first ones, making little dots on the low pile carpet. They were really coming, and he smiled at it, thinking that though it was work, it was one of the best birthdays he'd ever had. 

The ass-fucking went on for a little while more, until nothing more came oozing out the tranny-girl's pricks, and then the real women slowly eased the dildos out and sat back on their heels. They had taken their shoes off too, sometime during the brutal and beautiful ravaging of the T-girl's bung-chutes, and Al focused in on those now. They were, as far as he could tell, just as lovely as the others, perhaps more so. But then the tranny-girls got up and turned to the others, removed their dildo harnesses, and put them on. The late comers lay back and the ones with the dildos pushed their legs way over head and then pushed their rubber dicks down and in. 

"Up their asses too!" All said. "Yah, give it to them!" He stared through his various lenses as the women got reamed, and he wished they'd just all take those damned sunglasses off so he could see their faces! It was getting frustrating. Then his cell phone went off and he nearly pissed his pants. He fumbled for it, trying not to lose sight of the orgy across the way, and answered.

"Yah, Al here..."

"Alan!" a silky, sultry voice said. "Are you watching the house?"

"Huh? Yah sure. Why?" he said, puzzled; he looked away from the orgy. "Who is this?"

"Well, take a look now," the voice said, and Al kept the tiny phone to his ear with his shoulder and looked through the camera again. One of the tranny-girls stood there with a phone to her ear, waving directly at him! Then all of them reached for their hair and pulled off their wigs, and then finally took off their oversized sunglasses. Al stared, stunned.

"The McElson Quadruplets!" he exclaimed.

"Yes Al!" they all said in unison. They all smiled, and one of the females called out.

"This is from your brother Maurice!" she said, and they all began to sing the Happy Birthday Song to him, standing there three quarters of a mile away, naked and barefoot, singing through the cell phone. 

Al wept.

When the song was over, Al wiped his tears and looked through the camera.

The voice came back on the phone.

"If you want," she said, "You can come on by. Maurice rented the house for the weekend, you know. And...we're all going to be here too so..."

Al was down the tree, into his car and heading down the valley in a flash. He arrived at the house and rang the doorbell. Up close he recognized Elsbeth who had been the blonde, her cock and balls unapologetically uncovered, and behind her were Tenbrea and Canyth, the biological sisters, and finally Renshi, the other transsexual. They all came and greeted Al, and when one of them unzipped his pants, he knew truly and well, that this would be the finest birthday he would ever have in his life!

END