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Put to the Test Ch. 01

By: Chagrined



Chapter 01: Peter Story

Special Thanks to my editor LadyCibelle for all the hard work and brainstorming. She made it better than I ever could. This is best read as Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4 to preserve the view points and the key actions and their effects. Hope you enjoy it!

* * * * *

My name is Peter Molloy. I don't know if that is relevant but it seems like a good place to start. I am an average man of average height, weight, and looks. I'm 52 and very modestly successful, I suppose. I like to run and hit the gym as often as I can, to stave off obesity and cardiac arrest. I work as a computer system engineer in the telecommunications industry. It's not what I wanted to do with my life but it does pay the bills.

One thing my job does afford me is the opportunity to travel. It was during one of these trips helping to set up a data warehouse in Sao Paulo, Brazil that I met my lovely wife. I had been married before as have about half the male population of the United States. It had ended badly and I have to say it was my fault but I will expand more upon that later. 

First, I should explain the circumstances surrounding how I came to meet and later marry Maria. It will help to make things clearer on how I came to take her test and the results. 

As I said we met while I was working in San Paulo, Brazil. Mike, a co-worker, and I had been assigned to go to San Paulo to help install some HP Superdome servers which were going to be used to run high availability billing application for Bellsouth down there. Mike was a hell of a system engineer and I could speak reasonable Spanish and had an interest in learning Portuguese so I went with him. 

The work was easy but the hours were long. The Brazilian engineers we worked with were friendly enough and we did develop a rapport with them. I did notice however that when the discussions weren't about work, the topic always seemed to turn to women and who was nailing whom. I'm not a prude, mind you, but I was uncomfortable with this, for reasons which will become apparent later. But not wanting to jeopardize the working relationship we had been developing I let the conversation flow in whichever direction it took. Mike however was fascinated and turned the conversation in that direction every time he could. 

If the stories laid out for us were to be believed, it was perfectly alright for these guys to have extramarital affairs. Indeed, it was almost mandatory! The wives, on the other hand, were to pretty much shut up, cook, clean and behave themselves. The wife was an extension of the Madonna/Earth Mother myth, I suppose. Now, don't misunderstand, I am not saying all men felt this way, just the ones we were working with. Actually, I think most of the stories were wishful thinking but it wouldn't help the company or our task in Brazil to say so. 

After a particularly long day which required us to rebuild a server three times, an engineer named Ramón asked Mike and I if we would like to go clubbing and let off a little steam. Mike and I had pretty much stayed close to the hotel as this was post Iraq and post Patriot Act and North Americans weren't particularly liked in Brazil at that time. Tolerated, yes but hardly cultivated. (You may recall, Brazil was one country who had reciprocated the new practice the US had implemented of photographing people coming into the US.) Ramón laughed at this and said he and his buddies would protect us. Mike and I decided to go. 

I have to say that this was a bit of a task for me as I am not what one would call a "social" person. It is not that don't like people it is just that I had never really honed the necessary people skills. What skills I did possess hadn't been taken out for a test drive in probably at least 12 years since the breakup of my marriage. Since that time, I had learned that it was better for me, safer for others, and for me, if I just kept my own company. 

You see, for a good part of my young adult life I was what might have been called "sex addict." Between the ages of 18 and 30 I fucked anything and everything. I just couldn't get enough of women. I loved their breasts, their thighs, and the pungent aroma of their arousal. I would have screwed an anaconda in those days. During those years there was no emotional involvement mind you, just mindless sex. By the age of 31, I had met a woman I thought I loved and married. For a while the beast had been tamed. You know how the worst people to be around are recovering addicts in some ways; like a non-smoker being around smokers? How they are always preaching and passing judgment? That was me. I was a recovering cock hound. 

Going back to that evening, Ramón and two others picked us up at our hotel and said that we were going to a particular club which was supposed to be "the place" in Sao Paulo. Ramón winked at me and said, "We go there to meet the ladies, you know?" I didn't bother to tell him I never thought he went for the shrimp scampi. 

The place was jumping. Spacious and facing the ocean, it was tightly packed with Sao Paulo's young and old alike all looking to have a good time. Loud mixes of Tropicalia, Bossa Nova and the ever present Samba beats reverberated against the walls. I enjoyed being there. Mike was just about to die when he saw that the women outnumbered the men by about 4 to 1. I confess I was very pleased to be there as well. Even those of us entering our "golden years" need a little eye candy! And it was there in spades! Everywhere one looked there were beautiful Latin women of every shape and hue! Dark black haired morena, light blondes, everything! Ramón led us over to a larger table and we sat down. I was prepared to give my tired eyes a feast tonight! We ordered a round of drinks. It wasn't about a few minutes later that I saw Maria. 

Now, it is probably prejudiced of me to say, but if Brazilian women are the bomb, Maria classified as a 10 megaton nuke! She wasn't tall only about 5 feet which was a plus to me. Like many women in the place she had soft, flawless cinnamon skin which almost radiated heat from across the floor. Long, thick black hair that could only be described as luxurious framed her face. Even from that distance and in that lighting I could see her eyes would be black yet inviting. She was wearing a short black dress which accented every accent of her body. I could easily see the outline of full breasts. My eyes went to her legs which were smooth, round and curved. My gaze moved up to a round, full behind accenting her morena blood. For the briefest of moments she noticed me noticing her and smiled brightly. From that moment, I was hopelessly in love. (Yes, sometimes it does happen just that way.)

Ramón had noticed my attention had been diverted as well. He leaned over to me and said," I see you have noticed our Maria Marlene, amigo."

I couldn't pull my eyes away from her. "Huh? Ahh, Sim. Quem é ela? Who is she?" 

Ramón grinned. "That is Maria Marlene Lucinea Samia. She was the girlfriend of a guy I know. Actually, I knew she would be here tonight. A year ago when she catches him with another woman; of course, it was nothing but she is angry and never saw him again. Women, they make so much from nothing!"

Mike was working on his second Caipiniha, a particularly potent Brazilian concoction; their version of Montezuma's Revenge. He asked "Who are we talking about?"

Ramón nodded over in the Maria's direction. 

Mike was ever the diplomat. "Jesus H. Christ! Will you look at that body!" he breathed. Ramón laughed. I tried to climb under my chair. 

Mike pulled at his drink. "Ramón, old buddy, I got to have me some of that!"

"You want me to invite her over?" Ramón winked at me.

"Oh, hell yeah! Her and someone for yourself and Pete here." Mike replied. 

Ramón set of and walked over in Maria direction. I used the time to set Mike straight. "Look, Mike. We are guests in this fucking country. We don't need any trouble, understand?"

Mike looked at me annoyed. "I'm just asking the bitch to have a drink with us. Don't get so jacked out of shape!"

"I'm just saying that we need to be a little on down low here, okay? Show a little restraint. Okay?"

"Okay, okay. I'm going to be cool. Smooth Mike is what they call me." He reassured me. Actually, I did know what they called Mike, and smooth wasn't anywhere in the description. 

We watched as Ramón returned to our table with Maria, and two other ladies, one as beautiful as the other. Ramón sat down after pulling up chairs for the women. I stood and said hello. Introductions were made all around. The other two ladies were named Lourdes and Aline, I think, but I admit I wasn't paying that much attention after seeing Maria up close. The night progressed. Ramón and Aline seemed to hit it off. I suspect that they just wanted to fuck one another. Mike ignored Lourdes and I did try to involve her in polite conversation but after about half an hour she begged off and went off to talk with some folks at the bar. For some reason, Maria, who I discovered spoke fluent English was more interested in me and kept bringing me into the conversation Mike was trying to have with her. Mike, of course kept drinking. I had heard from some folks back in the States that he had had a drinking problem which had adversely affected his rating when raises came around but I usually pay little attention to rumors. 

The rest of the tale is pretty easy to anticipate. Art often imitates life but in this case life imitated art. Mike drank more and was getting visibly smashed. Ramón, when he wasn't busy chatting up Aline, would glance over our way. I think he knew what was coming and was amused by it. He whispered several times to Aline nodding in Mike's direction. Then they would both laugh at some secret joke. I kept talking to Maria. She told us she worked as a secretary and had spent time at the Brazilian Embassy in Washington, DC which accounted for her excellent English. She laughed when she told me she had never been married but could feel here biological clock ticking! She was only 33 years old! Had I ever been that young? I couldn't remember. But it really didn't matter. I still enjoyed her company, her throaty laugh and deep black eyes which had a sparkle in their center. I could enjoy myself because I was safe in the knowledge that this was going nowhere. I knew that this gorgeous Brazilian beauty would never do more than pass the time with a Norte-Americano 15 years her senior. But a part of me wanted it too. 

It had been building up and finally it broke. Mike looked at Maria and said," I have a question for you, baby."

I could tell that Maria was not pleased at being called "baby" but was being polite. 

"Certainly. What is it?" she replied.

"Could you help me with something I have heard about Brazilian women?" He had a bit of trouble focusing his eyes, I thought.

"If I can." Maria said.

Mike looked at me, grinned, and then turned back to her. He placed his hand on her arm and leaned in close.

"I've heard you Brazilian chicks all like it in the ass? Is that true." He winked at her.

Maria's face went blank with shock. She tried to pull her arm out of his grasp but he held on. 

I leaned forward. "Mike, damn it, what did I tell you!? Let go of her! Now!"

"Relax, Pete. I just want an answer to my question. Damn man, ease up! You are so uptight if I stuck a lump of coal in your ass in a month I'd have a diamond!" He laughed. "What do you say, my Maria. Want to see if we can get a diamond out of Pete's ass?" 

Maria tried to pull away but Mike maintained his grip. But this time Ramón was aware of what was going on as were most of the people around us. Mike stood trying to pull Maria with him. The men around us started to move in. Ramón, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He was going to get to see two Norte-Americanos get the shit kicked out of then and then thrown in jail! Life was good. 

Mike stood, trying to pull Maria with him. 

I stepped up to him. He was a couple of centimeters taller than I was and about 17 years younger. At that point I didn't care. I placed my hand firm against his chest.

"Let her go. NOW! I won't ask a third time." I said quietly but with a firmness which surprised even me. I should have been scared. Normally I might have been but I could feel now that Maria needed me which fed an icy calm. 

He tried to sucker punch me, but in his condition I easily slipped the punch. I didn't even have to hit back. I just allowed his fist to lead the rest of his body and he fell to the floor. He tried to get up and I clipped him a straight right to his nose. Tears welled up in Mike's eyes before they crossed and he was out. Age and Treachery will win out over Youth and Skill every time.

Maria sprang up and grabbed my arm. "Peter, we have to leave. Now! The police will be here in a minute and you can't be here."

I looked down at Mike. Yes, he was an asshole but I couldn't leave him to the mercies of the local cops. I bent down and pulled him to his feet, which wasn't easy as he was all dead weight. 

Maria said, "Leave him."

I looked at her as I settled Mike across my shoulders in a fireman's carry. "I can't, Maria. He's a dick but he is a fellow American, ugly as he may be, and the company doesn't need the bad press". In the distance I could hear the whine of cops approaching. The other patrons around us were watching intently. 

"We must go!" Maria tugged at me. So we did.

The next few days were eventful. Mike, when he recovered was both resentful and scared. They recalled him and I was left to finish the project. I heard later he was unceremoniously shit canned from the company. 

Ramón was happy as a hog in a wallow as we used to say. He enjoyed telling his friends and anyone who would listen about the crazy gringos fighting over a woman who wasn't even theirs! But, he also gave me a small grudging respect for not having abandoned Mike to the Sao Paulo cops who would have undoubtedly introduced Mike to the pleasures of their own form of enema. 

Maria and I continued to see each other. I can't say why she wanted to see me. Maybe a perverse form of father fixation, I don't know. But, I wasn't going to inquire too closely either. We went clubbing (some of us never learn) went to the beach, and I was allowed to meet her parents. We all seemed to get along even if they did laugh at my feeble halting Portuguese. Each passing day I felt myself a fool for falling more under this woman's spell. She was everything I ever wanted. She was charming, intelligent, sweet and very caring. To say she was sexy would not do justice to either her or the word. Everyday we saw each other I went home with that gnawing in my crotch. And each night, I would pull out my cock and masturbate; eyes closed, remembering the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body. When I came, it was always with me groaning her name. I went to sleep sated but hardly satisfied, waiting for the next day I could be with her. 

For the first time, in a long time, I wanted someone. I needed someone. She was too young for me, too lovely for me, and far too sexy for me but I just couldn't stay away from her. I don't expect you to understand but my desire for this woman went much further than just a physical yearning. But, I was also aware of the difference in ages, cultures, and languages. For the past 5 years I had lived a very nomadic life moving from place to place and installation to installation. Added to the mix was the fact I was still paying support until my daughter was 21, I didn't own my own home, even the TV sitting in the apartment in the US had come from Rent-A-Center! What did I possibly have to offer Maria?

I never expected it to last long or go far. Until one night two days before the end of the project and I was due to leave Brazil. I called Maria and asked if she would have dinner with me. She said yes. 

We had dinner at a quiet place we had found earlier in the month and particularly liked. Maria found it amusing to see my reaction to Brazilian cuisine. After dinner we walked and talked about things in general. Maria surprised me by taking my hand in hers and laying her head on my shoulder as we walked along. The touch of her was electric and my heart beat increased. I was giddy. 

"Peter, may I ask you a question?" she asked.

I looked over at her face on my shoulder. "As long as it isn't the same one Mike asked you." I smiled. She laughed. 

"Please excuse me for asking but I have to know." She stopped and looked me in the eye. "Why have you never taken me into your bed?"

The English have a good expression for it – gob smacked and that was what I was. That feeling of utter incredulity; of being totally flabbergasted! I stood there for a moment unsure of what to say. Maria kept looking me in the eye as she moved a step closer. 

"Are you, how do you say, estranho, queer?" 

"Gay is the word I think you are looking for. No, Maria, I am not gay." I croaked. My mouth was dry and my pulse increased. I could smell the jasmine of her perfume heady against my senses. I began counting to ten. 

She moved a step closer. I could feel her heat overpowering me. He lips slid gently across mine, barely touching. 

"Do you not find me pleasing, Peter? Am I not woman enough for you? Or is it you do not like dark women?" she taunted as her lips continued to brush mine. Her tongue slipped forward tasting my lips. I was awash in sensation. The blood rushed to my groin.  

"No, Maria, meu caro. You are more than enough woman for me" My voice was husky with desire and need for this woman. My arms slipped around her and I pulled her roughly to me as my lips met hers and parted. Our tongues sought one another and fought for dominance. Her body molded to mine. My cock began to swell as my senses reeled. I could smell the coconut in her hair; share the wine we had tasted at dinner. 

She stepped back ad placed her hand firmly on the outline of my cock against my pants. "Yes, this tells me I am enough woman for you." she observed. 

She took a step back and I nearly fell. 

"Shall we go back to your hotel?"

"Yes, "I croaked. I knew this was wrong. I was too old, too world weary for this bewitching woman leading me by the hand. I also didn't care. Not now. 

Hand in hand we made our way back to the hotel I had been staying at. I asked for the key with Maria standing beside me her arm wrapped against mine, smiling pleasantly as the clerk handed me the room key. As we walked to the stairway, Maria glanced back and waved at him. He laughed and shook his head at the crazy man who was certainly in over his head. 

I hadn't even shut the door when Maria pushed me into the bedroom. 

She looked at me as she began to take off my shirt. Her mouth locked against mine and she sucked my tongue greedily into her mouth. 

"Peter, I have wanted you for so long", she moaned into my mouth. 

I returned her kisses as best I could but I was no match for her passion. It had been 10 years since I had been with a woman and I was badly out of practice. There was nothing romantic about our first time. It was pure lust. Two bodies which came together in mutual need, screaming for release. We did not make love that first time; we fucked. Purely, simply, prodigiously! I don't even remember most of it because my mind was awash with the sensation of it. Frankly, I think I almost died of sensory overload. The first time, I was dimly aware of her screams when she finally came. All I could remember of mine was of my deep moan as my cock throbbed and then blackness. I think I took her in the behind. 

Minutes later or perhaps hours, I became aware of someone's head resting on my shoulder and a nail tracing circles around my nipple. 

From far away, Maria's voice came to me. "Peter, there is some things I need to tell you. Do you want to hear them?"


Put to the Test Ch. 01



I managed to look over at her and met her gaze. "Of course. Once I am back among the living." I smiled. 

"It has been a while since you had a woman." It wasn't a question. 

I looked at the ceiling. "Yes. Over ten years." I kissed her forehead. "You had some things to tell me?"

Maria raised herself up and leaned on my chest looking me in the face. She had a habit of doing this, and retains it to this day. 

"Peter, I love you." She said matter-of-factly.

I almost swallowed my tongue. I looked at her and frowned. "You what?"

She shrugged. "I love you. You do not have to love me back, but I thought you should know before you leave. I will love you for a long time, I think." 

"Maria, I am fifteen years older than you. I am approaching middle age," I began. And at breakneck speed, I wanted to add. Hell, who was I kidding? I was in it already and up to my neck.

She thrust herself up and pulled her knees to her chest. "Why do you always bring that up? If you care nothing for me, just say so. I do not beg for your love. I just wanted you to know of mine." She laid her chin on her knee. 

I reached out and touched her hair. "Maria, it is not like that."

She shrugged off my hand. She was hurt and angry. I seemed to do that to women. 

"Maria?"

She continued to look in the distance, her knees locked even tighter against her. I could tell she was feeling foolish and hurt for loving this stupid Norte Americano. I slipped from the bed and knelt in front of her and took her face in my hands. Again I took her face and pulled it around until her eyes met mine. I could see hurt and defiance there. This was not a weak woman, but she had allowed herself to fall in love with a man who didn't love her. Or so she thought. 

"Maria, I love you more than life. I have loved you since I first saw you that night in the club. Eu adore o. Compreenda? Eu adore o." I said.

She looked at me. She could read the truth. "Then why have you said nothing to me? You left me to think..."

My finger against her lips stopped her. "Because I don't deserve you."

"That is foolishness, Peter". She pointed out, quite accurately.

"Maria, you are young, vibrant and so full of life. I am older, a little less ...vibrant."

Despite herself, a small wisp of a smile creased her lips. "You were very full of life a moment ago." 

I coughed. She had me there. "Yes, well, there is a bit more. Do you want to know why I never had a woman in the last ten years?" I began. 

She shook her head. How could she not want to know? I ignored her and went on.

"I was married ten years ago. It wasn't the greatest of marriages. She was an engineer as I was and we worked well together. I think we confused a professional life with a personal one. We married and had a child. Over the next 3 years we grew apart; more distant than you can imagine. In our fifth year I had an affair; actually a couple. But one in particular! It was a mistake. My wife found out about it and raised a holy stink. I don't think she really cared about us; she was just upset because she thought everyone was going to think she was an idiot for having a husband who was playing around on her. She called the woman I had had the affair with and harassed her until she left town. Without going into a lot of detail, in the end four people got hurt: my wife, my lover, my daughter and me. All for nothing! The woman I was involved with thought I loved her. I hadn't. My wife was humiliated in front of her friend and family. My daughter and I still see one another but we aren't close; all because I couldn't keep my cock where it belonged. Ever since then, I have had nothing to do with women or much of anyone else. My work is my life."

She watched me closely. "And this makes you happy?"

I breathed deeply. "No."

She looked at me, perplexed. "I see. But that still doesn't answer why. You made a mistake; one you will not make again."

I looked to the floor and then back at her. "Something my mother told me once after the affair had come to light. My father had cheated on her for years and she never did anything about it. When the news of my affair got out she was my greatest prosecutor. She told me 'The sins of the father are visited upon the son. Once a cheat, always a cheat. I guess it was bound to come out in you. It's in your genes. You just can't help yourself, just like your father couldn't.' Maria, I never want to be responsible for causing that kind of pain again."

I couldn't look into Maria's dark beautiful eyes. I was ashamed of my admission. I was afraid of what I would find there, the recrimination, the accusation. 

This time she took my face in her hands. "What is age? We all grow old. And what do I care for possessions? I learned from my time in your country that you measure too much of your lives by what you own. Can you take it with you when you die? I think not."

Her eyes now burned into mine. "Peter, your mother was wrong. I do not understand what you did then and I don't need to. But I think that the Peter who did that thing is not the man here with me now. He is not the man that I love, meu homem velho"

As unmanly as it is to admit now, my eyes welled with tears. I searched her face for a long moment as she steadfastly met mine. All I could find was love, acceptance, and beauty. 

"Maria!" I gasped. I pulled her to me. Her breasts were full and pressed firmly against my chest. Her legs straightened and then locked around my waist. I could feel the firm smoothness of her thighs lock against me. Our mouths met and her tongue thrust against mine. My hand reached up, and filled with her long lush hair. She moaned into my mouth and pulled me even closer until we were one body, one person. Slowly my other hand worked around and filled itself with one full, rich perfect tit. My fingers worked against her nipple and felt it harden. My mouth left hers and found the side of her neck. I tongue licked at it and she sighed. 

I moved up forcing her to lie back down against the bed. My cock throbbed against her mound. 

I looked down at her. "Your 'old man', huh."

She smiled and nodded. "Yes."

"Maria, will you marry me? I need you." I had tried to stop the words from coming out but it was pointless. I wanted this woman from far away. I needed her as much as I need to breathe.

It took less than a heartbeat for her to answer. "Sim, meu homem velho. Yes. Yes. Yes."

I dived into her. This time I remembered it all.

We were married 6 months later. I never looked back. True, I am older than she is but she didn't care and neither did I. Of course, it raised an eyebrow or two at work. Most people said she had married for money. Some said for immigration status. Me? I knew why she had married me; because she loves me as I love her. I could never do anything to hurt her. I had hoped that my father was wrong. I was to find myself tested on our first anniversary.



Put to the Test Ch. 02



Chapter 2: Maria Story

Again thanks to my editor and the voice of my conscience, LadyCibelle. This is best read if you read Put to the Test Peters Story Part 1 first.

Enjoy and any votes and comments are appreciated even the negative ones.

* * * * *

Hello. I have decided to write to you about my side of how I met my Peter and why he needed to pass the test if we were to be happy. Please forgive my English. I am considered fluent in it but I still make mistakes, mostly in the area of slang and colloquialisms. It is not my native language you see. So, please bear with me. 

My husband is my life. I know that for you it may seem strange to say but I have waited for him all of my life. Now I have him and I will never let him go nor will I allow another woman to have him. It is as simple as that. There is no room for discussion in this. This is strange for many of you here. Many women I have met here in the US have taken the strange attitude that men are easy obtained. This may be true for you here but not for me. 

I come from a Latin American country. In my homeland the men do not treat their women as the men here treat theirs. Brazil is a land of machismo. Which means, in part, that a woman is a man's property, as is his car, his house, his dog. I am quick to say that not all Brazilian men are like this, many are not but a great many are. I know this because I almost married one. His name is not important but what he was and the way he treated me for the brief time we were together is. I do not hate him; I do not even think of him. But I am thankful for him. Because of him, I found meu homem velho, my old man. 

My man's name is Peter, like the saint in the Vatican. But he is no saint; he is just a man, my man. 

I remember the night we met. As I have said, I had been going out for sometime with a man from Chile who had taken a job in Brazil. He did not treat me as I wanted to be treated. He cheated on me, took my money, and expected me to be there whenever he wanted me. I thought I loved him at the time so I put up with his foolishness for almost six months. Then one night I came home to find him in my bed with another woman. I was heartbroken that he would do this to me. I knew he cheated but never in my own bed. He tried to reason with me as he called it, telling me it was just a fun on the side. I had been busy at work and it wasn't like he couldn't satisfy us both so where is the harm? When he finished, I slapped him hard across the face. His eyes went cold and he slapped be back and called me a vile name and hit me again. Then he threw me on the bed and took me. Later, when he was done he said that we were through and that the sex would have to hold me for a long while. I cried the rest of the night. At that moment I swore I would wait until I had found a man worthy of me. 

For months I did not go out with any men. I was like the Madonna or a nun at a convent. It was hard for me as I like sex. Most Brazilian women do. Maybe it is the tropical climate but we are a hot, passionate people. Our women are sweet and devoted and make good wives and lovers. But that was not for me until I met Peter.

On the night we met my friend Lourdes had asked me to go to a tropicali club in our city in Sao Paulo, my home. 

"Maria Marlene, it is time for you to go out. How do expect to find the right man sitting in here?" 

"Do you have an idea?" I asked.

"You know Ramón, the man I have been seeing?"

I thought for a moment. Lourdes sees so many men. They are like grapes to her, to be picked, eaten and then discarded if they are not to her liking. Lourdes and Ramón were good for each other. They are just alike. "Yes, the one from the telephone company?"

"Sim. Well he has been working with two Anglos from the Estados Unidos. They are very lonely he says and he wants to bring them to the club. He thinks it will be funny to watch them. Why don't you come and meet them"

"Lourdes, I am not interested in meeting a Norte-Americano. We would have little in common." I protested.

Lourdes sighed. "I am not saying to marry the man, just, you know, meet one, do a little Samba, and have some fun." She grinned and moved her hips.

"Two Americans and Ramón? If Ramón is yours am I to take care of the two gringos myself?" I asked with a small smile. 

"No, Aline says she will go if you will."

"Aline! She has had her eye on Ramón. You be careful of that one," I warned. 

Lourdes shrugged her shoulders. "So, if she wants she can have him. He was becoming a bore anyway. There are plenty of others." As I said, Lourdes and Ramón are made for one another. 

We made plans to meet later that night at the club. I spent the rest of the day looking for something to wear. Perhaps Lourdes was right and it was my time to come back to the world. There was little available. We in Brazil have little time or money available for shopping. So as a result what we have must be good. I took down a short, black dress that I had bought during my time with the pig. I knew that it fit me right. I bathed, waxed my legs, and made myself as desirable as I could. As I dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror. I knew my breast were good. Men enjoyed touching them enough. I turned in the mirror. My friends all told me that my best feature was my bom-bom. What you would call my butt. It was round and firm. Not at all like so many women we have seen from the north. Theirs was almost gone. We often wondered what they sat on! My legs were full as well. Round and made to hold a man prisoner. 

That night at the club I began dancing. I admit I was anxious to see what these men Ramón had talked about looked like. Of course I had seen Norte-Americano's before. I had worked as a translator in English for the Brazilian Embassy mission for three years in the United States and was well acquainted with the people there.

I remember well the first time I saw Peter. Ramón had walked in and sat down with two men and had just ordered some drinks when I noticed them. One man was looking around the room while Ramón and the other were talking. He was not a handsome man the way people sometimes define it. But he had strength to him which I could feel from across the room. This may have been because he was older than me. I was 32 years old and he had to be at least 40 years old. (I was to find out later he was much older, nearly fifty. But, I did not care. We are not as concerned with such things here.) For a moment, he saw me and the strangest look came over him. His mouth fell open and he just sat there staring at me. His eyes bored into me; they seemed to devour me and reach right into my soul. At that moment I knew this man was going to be unlike any other. 

The other man had taken to talking with Ramón, who got up and walked over our way. I motioned to Lourdes who had been in conversation with two young men at the bar. She retrieved Aline. Ramón walked up to me just as Lourdes and Aline arrived. 

"It is all set, he said. "Come on over and we will talk. Get to know the guys." He winked at me. "One is especially interested in you, caro."

"The older one?" I asked hopefully.

"No, the younger one. If he isn't careful he will drink so much he will be useless to you tonight, caro!"

I was a bit disappointed but I followed as Ramón set off back to the table. Aline slipped her arm in his and for a moment I thought Lourdes had seen. She looked at me and rolled her eyes. She had seen but didn't care, I suppose. 

We sat down and Ramón made the introductions. The younger one was named Miguel, or rather Mike. The other, the one who had stood as we approached, was named Peter. I sat down between them and shook hands with both. I think when I took Peter's hand there was spark of electricity and I shuddered. He would never know but I got very wet at that moment. 

The night progressed with much talk and laughter. I told Peter about myself and he seemed really interested. The other one was only interested in my body and his drink. Sometime shortly after we began speaking, Lourdes went back to the bar leaving me and Ramón and Aline. 

It wasn't long before the younger one; Mike began to rub my thigh under the table. He grinned and moved his hand up to my panties. I took his hand and moved it away as quietly as I could. It was important for me for some reason for his friend, Peter not to think I was an easy woman who could be had by anyone. It was important the impression I left Peter with. It wasn't long before Mikes hand was again rubbing my thigh. Oddly, I was more angry that it wasn't Peters fingers seeking my body. I admit, for him I would have opened them as wide as he wanted. But instead he was a perfect gentleman. He talked to me and asked my opinion of many issues. Mike just pawed at me like a bull. I thought for a moment that all men everywhere were alike. Cocks just seeking female warmth. Ramón was a prime example of the type. But this Mike, lacked Ramón's charm and I admit good looks. 

I had just pushed his hand away again when Mike said "I have a question for you, baby."

I was offended by the term but I wanted to be done with this quickly. I told him I would be pleased to if I could. 

"Could you help me with something I have heard about Brazilian women?"

"If I can." I replied. The question seemed innocent enough. 

Mike moved closer. Now the same hand which he had been stroking my thigh with was firmly on my arm. I glanced down at it and then to Ramón. Ramón was watching with interest but I could see he would be no help. 

"I've heard you Brazilian chicks all like it in the ass? Is that true."

I fell back in shock. What a question! I tried to pull away hoping Ramón would come to my aid. 

Peter said something to his friend. I couldn't tell exactly what but I could sense the tension in his voice. Mike replied something about diamonds and a bom-bom but I was still in too much shock to hear exactly what it was. Mike laughed and then looked at me and said, "What do you say, my Maria. Want to see if we can get a diamond out of Pete's ass?"

I tried jerking my arm free and looked at Ramón for help. By this time others were in the area and aware of what was going on. But it was plain that they were more interested in watching two gringos fight and land in jail than in interfering. 

Mike stood and tried to pull me to my feet. I struggled and Peter came to his feet and hissed something to his friend. I did not see everything but in a moment Mike was lying unconscious on the floor! I knew that the police would arrive soon and they would like nothing more than to throw two Norte-Americano's into jail. 

I stood quickly and told Peter we had to leave and that the police would soon be there. I did not care about what happened to his friend, but I did not want Peter to suffer. 

Peter hesitated looked down at Mike. "Leave him," I said. He is a pig anyway."

Peter hesitated for a second before tossing his unconscious friend over his should and muttered something about a countryman. We left and grabbed a táxi sitting outside. Peter dropped his friend inside and we sped off. 

In the táxi, Peter looked at me and asked where I lived. I told the driver and we headed for my apartment. I looked at Peter and said"Why did you endanger yourself by grabbing this one?" I motioned toward the unconscious man with disgust.

Peter looked at him. "I couldn't leave him to the mercies of the Sao Paulo cops." 

"He is your friend?"

Peter looked at me. I could see his eyes clearly. There was a warmth and tenderness to them that I had rarely seen in many men. There was kindness there and pain as well. 

"Nope, not my friend. Just an asshole I had to work with. But that is gonna change, I can tell you." Peter told me. 

I looked at this strange man before me. At that moment I knew what the strange feeling I had experienced in the club was. I had heard about it, it was a legend in many places. It was love, love at first sight. I knew at that moment I would have this man. I would give him children and I would complete him and he would fill my life. This was to be. 

"The police will know who you are. Ramón will tell them." I warned.

Peter, my man, shrugged. "Let them. I will stop at the consulate first before going to the hotel and let them know what went on. I won't go down alone." He looked at me. "Let the State department earn its pay". He grinned. 

I knew from my time with the Brazilian Embassy that Peter was right. Everywhere money talks and many listen. Amends would be made, but the pig, Mike would no doubt be asked, no required, to leave the country. 

Peter turned to me and took my hand. I held it hard. I would not let go. "Thanks for helping me out back there." He smiled. 

"I did nothing. Peter, what was that you hit him with?"

Peter's smile widened. "It is called a short straight right in boxing circles. I studied boxing and ju-jitsu for years." He laughed. It had a musical quality to it. This was the first he had laughed and I loved hearing it. "But this is the first fight I have been in since Lincoln Scott kicked my ass in tenth grade!"

I smiled and settled back in the seat. Mike was beginning to come to as I could hear him moan on the floorboard. "I understand. We study ju-jitsu here in Brazil as well," I said matter-of-factly. 

"I know, Maria. You folks are famous for it." He smiled again and I smiled back. 

Mike groaned as we pulled up to my apartment. I stepped out and Peter leaned over. "Maria, can I see you again? I mean without asshole here." 

I looked up at my building. "Of course. I am on the third floor. You know the building. Ramón knows my number but do not call before six in the night." I said and moved off making sure that he could see my hips move and my bom-bom sway. I wanted him to want me as I wanted him. Is there to be shame in this? 

Peter waved as the taxi moved off. 

I did not hear from Peter again for the next two days. I do not have to tell a woman who loves a man what this is like. I was worried that the authorities were not sympathetic and that they had sent both Peter and Mike away. For two days I prayed to our lady to bring him back to me. On the third day, she answered me. Peter wanted to take me to a movie. I said yes immediately. 

For the next few weeks we were inseparable. I was his and he was mine. I knew this and I did everything to let him know. But no matter what I did he never placed his hands on me. He never kissed me. I was burning for him. But he seemed to have no interest in me. For a brief time I was afraid he was a homosexual but his couldn't be true! I could see the desire in his eyes. A woman can tell when a man wants her and I knew that his body wanted mine. But still, he was ever a gentleman. It was as if he was afraid to love me but the love was there. 

He was preparing to leave in two days. I knew if I were to have him I would have to do something now or lose him forever. He took me to dinner. Peter had to be cautious of Brazilian cooking as he was allergic to seafood and heavy spices. I watched him pick through his food with amusement. At times like this he was like a child, but at other times his eyes were the eyes of an old, sad man, much worn by life.

After dinner we went for a walk. We held hands but again he made no move to kiss me. I could allow this no longer. With my head on his shoulder I said, "Peter, may I ask you a question?" 

He said I could as long as it was not the same one that the pig, Mike had asked. I knew he was trying to keep things light but my heart was heavy and it was not the time for humor. I was afraid of the answer but I had to know! I turned to him and searched his face for a reason for his tenderness and lack of passion. "Please "Excuse me for asking but I have to know. Why have you never taken me into your bed?"

He tried to step back and for a brief moment I thought I had gone too far, I had maybe pushed this man too far. But as I looked at him, I saw the desire, the want return. I am a woman and I know how to deal with this. I would have my answers. I pressed into him. "Are you, how do you say, estranho, queer?"

I moved even closer to him. My lips moved over his drawing my answers. "Do you not find me pleasing, Peter? Am I not woman enough for you? Or is it you do not like dark women?"

He muttered something but I was not interested in words at this time. I tried to push my tongue into my loves mouth, to taste him before he was gone. Then, he pulled me to him and his arms were around me. His mouth molded to mine and I knew we were to be as one. I pressed my body to his so he could feel my body and my desire. I reached down and felt his cock push against my hand. This was what I wanted and needed!

"Yes, this tells me I am enough woman for you." I told him. 

I took his hand and moved away drawing him with me. "Shall we go back to your hotel?" I knew his answer. He had no choice. 

We reached his hotel. I was on fire. I was wet and ready for him. Peter shut the door and I would no longer be his friend. My mother told me that a man wants his woman to be a whore in the bedroom and my Madonna was gone. I kissed him deeply. I wanted his naked body next to me, possessing me. 

"Peter, I have wanted you for so long", I told him. 

In a wave my passion came. I tore off his shirt and pushed him onto his bed. Again I kissed him; my tongue sought and found his. My lips moved away and traced along his jaw line. I found his neck and the gentle pulse there and kissed it. Peter moaned and pushed himself against me. My body answered his, I took my dress off and my breasts spilled into his hands. My nipples were deep brown and swollen from need for his touch. His mouth moved over one and took possession of it.

"AHHHHH, sim, simmm kiss it! It is yours, caro." His hands began to move over me and I welcomed the touch, his touch. I quickly removed his pants and took his cock in my hand. It wasn't large but I knew it was mine and no others. 

Slowly I began to work my hand moving from the base to the top. For a brief moment I wondered if he was Hebrew until I remembered that many men had been circumcised in his country. Then I took him in my mouth. I moaned at the taste. Peter was in another land and I knew I was the reason for him to be there. With an abandon I had not felt in a very long time I moved my tongue licking him from the base to tip. 

Peters hand found my hair and his hands knotted themselves in it as his hips rose up and pushed him deeper into my wet mouth. His hands pulled gently, urgently at my hair as his hips set a rhythm moving into my mouth. Yes, I wanted his seed, but not here, not yet. 

I pulled away and kissed him again. With new strength I pushed him on his back and further into the bed. By this time we were both naked. I startled my love and slowly pressed his cock into me. I was in charge, my need as great as his. 

"Gaaaaa, shit!", Peter moaned as I enveloped him. "Maria, oh god, I have wanted that so long!" he gasped. 

I leaned forward so my breasts were pushed against his chest. Slowly I began rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm again. "Then take it, caro. It is yours tonight. It is yours as long as you want it." I sighed. Then I quickened my pace. 

Peter's hands moved against my flanks. "Maria, your skin is so smooth...so strong" he said his eyes burning into mine.

I kissed him again. If I had to lose this man, I would be sure he would always remember me and this night. His movements matched mine and his pelvis pressed against my clitoris . One hand which had been cupping my bom-bom moved down and slowly began moving against my clitoris. 

My breathing came in gasps now. Simmmmm, simmmm.....do it meu caro, "a wave began to build inside me. "ahi popi, ahi, popi" I screamed. A flood came as I came over his cock deep inside me.




Put to the Test Ch. 02



I sagged for a moment and brushed the hair back from my face so I could see my love's face. Slowly, teasingly, my hips kept up a circling movement making sure his cock was in me. 

"Have you come yet, caro?" I asked innocently.

Peter's eyes were glazed over. I could tell he had not. It was now time for my treat. I pulled away and moved to one side. I took a position on the bed, my bom-bom held high. Peter moaned in protest at losing my moist warmth. 

"Hey. what are you.." he looked at me seeing me bent over my bom-bom high. 

"Caro," I said, moistening my lips with my tongue, "You pig friend Mike was right about one thing. Some women do like it in the bom-bom. Take me now, please," I moaned. 

My darling moved like a man possessed. He came up on his knees behind me. I spit in my hand and reached back taking him in my hand to add lubrication. 

"Maria, are you sure? " My love asked. I moaned, arched my back and pressed against him. Now, peter, now!"

Slowly Peter pushed his hard cock into me. I think he expected more resistance but I was ready for him. Besides, that is one advantage to having a man with a less than eight inch cock! He pushed his full length into me as we both moaned. 

Slowly, deliberately I began moving forward and back, my bom-bom milking my loves cock. Peter's hands reached and found my hips and steadied himself as he quickened his thrusts. 

"Sim, caro. Take me. Make me yours. "I begged him.

Peter's thrusts forced him deep inside my bom-bom. With each thrust I pushed back against him until I felt him begin to swell inside me and I knew he was about to release. With an effort, I pushed back as far as I could as he reached around and began to rub my clitoris with a finger slick from my juices. 

"Oh, baby," he moaned as his spent itself in my tight bom-bom. 

"Ahhhhhh, ohhhhh, "I moaned as I gyrated back against him making sure to catch all of his seed. My arms gave way and I fell forward, my loves delicious weight on top of me. 

With an effort he rolled over on his back and sighed. "You almost killed me. He breathed. 

I placed my head on his shoulder and watched as he breathed. I could feel his sperm begin to seep from me. I breathed contentedly. I had finally captured him, if only for a moment he had been mine. But he hadn't known how I felt about this. How did he feel? Soon he would be gone returning to his life in America. 

I had to tell him. I told him I had something to say. Perhaps it was unfair to tell him now after what we had just shared but I did not know if there would ever be another time. 

"Peter, I love you." There I had said it. 

I do not know what I expected for an answer. I was crushed. My heart had stopped. The man I loved, the man I wanted with every fiber of my being didn't care! But I refused to show him how much he had hurt me. 

I would make it an insignificant thing as he had. "I love you. You do not have to love me back, but I thought you should know before you leave. I will love you for a long time, I think." 

Then he said something foolish, perhaps the most foolish thing I could ever hear a man say. He went on to how he was so much older than I. I did not understand this. To me it was his heart that mattered not his years!

Angrily, I moved away from him. I had been wrong! He did not love me. How could I have been so stupid?

Then his hands found my face but I refused to let him see my tears. 

"Maria, I love you more than life. I have loved you since I first saw you that night in the club. Eu adore o. Compreenda? Eu adore o."

What had he said? He loved me? How could he be so cruel?

"Then why have you said nothing to me? You left me to think..."

He "shushed" me is I believe the expression. Slowly he began to tell me his story and about his marriage, his unfaithfulness and how it had nearly destroyed him and his life. I listened as he told me of his mother's recriminations. I watched as the sadness slowly replaced the joy we had just shared. The quiet stole back into his heart and it would steal him away from me. 

I took his face into my hands. He had to see that I was different, he was different and that the sins of the fathers are not necessarily visited on the sons. 

"Peter, your father was wrong. I do not understand what you did then and I don't need to. But I think that the Peter who did that thing is not the man here with me now. He is not the man that I love, meu homem velho" I willed him to believe, to trust in me and my love. 

I remember we kissed and talked. I had called him my old man and I knew that he was forever. I knew that I had found that secret place in his heart. After a moment he whispered to me "Maria, will you be my wife?"

I pulled him to me. There was no hesitation in my answer. "Sim, meu homem velho. Yes. Yes. Yes."

Peter applied for and received a K-1 visa which would allow me to visit him in the US but this was an easy thing as I had already been there as part of the Brazilian mission. We were married in less than 6 months from the day we met. Some would say this was too quick and too unsure. I was sure of my Peter. Inside a woman knows her man and I knew that the man Peter had been was not the man he was and that if we were to be happy I would have to exorcise that demon from his soul. 

As his wife, it was up to me to test him. 



Put to the Test Ch. 03



Once again, offered to you with appreciation to LadyCibelle for editing this piece. Any mistakes in the Portuguese translations are purely mine. Sorry about that. 

* * * * *

We are all tested and offered choices in our lives. Do we turn left or right? Do I file my taxes now or wait until the 15th of April? If we are lucky, we make the right choice and pass the test. Often, we won't know until long after the choice has been made and the results tabulated whether we were right or wrong. But, sometimes, we know the minute we make that little tick whether we passed the test or not. That happened to me the week of my first anniversary. 

Most of you have already been introduced to my past and how a lovely, raven haired Brazilian undulated into my life. And my life has never been better since that night in Sao Paulo. She grabbed a hold of my heart that night and has never relaxed her grip. 

Thanks to Maria my life began to settle into a warm rhythm. Prior to meeting Maria I had been directionless since my marriage had broken up 10 years ago. I didn't even have the luxury of throwing myself into my work as many men do. A consultant's life is a series of assignments punctuated by periods of inactivity. I had gone from assignment to assignment with no real permanence. One day seamlessly blended into the next. And then Maria changed that. She made me...respectable. I took a permanent position as an information technology project manager with a large pharmaceutical firm in the area, rented a lovely little house in a cul-de-sac and began to live like a human being. 

Maria did not want to return to work and I had no desire to push her in that direction. My salary was enough to make us comfortable. Occasionally she did take translating job working from home on a laptop she seemed to be happy just making the house "cozy" as she put it and being my wife. 

The only cloud on our horizon was that she had taken to the idea of having a child. She had informed me of this the previous night after we were in bed. I tried to dissuade her but, as is the case with many women, she wasn't listening. I had no say in the matter. Intellectually I could see her point of view. She was still young. She had never had the experience and I am sure that her "biological clock" was ticking with the foreboding insistency of a bomb. But I was no longer a young man. In fact, I was so far over the hill I could no longer see the hump. I would be ready to collect social Security when the child was just getting out of college! She was not to be dissuaded and this bothered me.

I remember fluctuating between this and just what to get Maria for our anniversary when bad news arrived at my office door in the form of my executive assistant, Pamela. Pam had been with the company for the last 5 year and was an exemplary employee. During those 5 years she had worked for a VP, a senior director and my predecessor. She had a fine sense of office politics and was a major conduit for the powder puff grapevine, a nasty appellation given to the ladies room gossip mongers. She was loyal enough to pass things of interest on to me from time to time, things which might affect my little section. 

She poked her head in and asked "Busy?"

I took my feet from my desktop where they had taken up permanent residency. I started shuffling things as if I had actually been doing something other than trying to decide between perfume and flowers for the anniversary gift. "Nope, not really. What have you got?"

Pam walked in and stood there with a big grin. "You are not going to believe this! Guess who is back."

I had no idea what the hell she was talking about. "I have no idea what the hell you are talking about. If you have something to tell me, tell me."

"Mike Turner. He's back." She grinned. 

I groaned and said, "Are you shitting me? Who is responsible for that fuck up?" 

Pam grinned. "Blame it on Walters in HR. They didn't really check into his, Turner's, packet when he reapplied. Plus, Turner is friends with some senior director somewhere. He is a good systems engineer, Pete."

I grimaced. "You know I hate being called Pete. Don't do it again or I'm canning your ass."

Her laugh had a deep throaty quality to that I enjoyed. "Whatever you say." As if Pam getting sacked could ever happen. Pam knew not just where the bodies were buried but who put them there. "You ready for the best part?" She said, eyes twinkling. 

I sat back and groaned. "There's more? Don't tell me, let me guess. He's being assigned to me?"

"Aren't you just special?" Pam grinned. "He should be on his way..."

"Hey folks!" Turner, on cue, stepped into my office. 

I stood up and reached my hand across the desk to shake hands. "Good to have you back, Mike." I lied looking over at Pam who had a shit-eating grin plastered over her features. 

Mike took my hand and shook it. "Great to be back! You can't keep a good man down, you know." 

"So it would appear," I agreed, retrieving my hand.

I looked at my hand. One...two...three...four...five...wedding ring...watch. Yes, they were all there. 

Pam moved to the door, "Well, I have things to do. Mike, stop by and I'll show you your cube and get you set up with a laptop and everything. Okay?"

"Sure thing. I'll be there in a minute. I just want to touch base with Peter here."

She walked out and Mike turned to me. He hadn't changed much in the intervening year. Perhaps a bit more grey in hair, but then I couldn't say much about that. 

"Look, Peter, I want this to work out between us. About Brazil, I want to apologize for that. I was drinking too much and made an ass of myself. I want you to know I am sorry and that it won't happen again."

I looked him over. "No, problem, Mike. That was a year ago. Just two things to remember. I know you have a drinking problem and in the past it got the better of you. But you always kept it away from your work. Continue to do that and we'll get along."

"Done!" he replied. "And the second?" 

"I'm willing to give you a shot, Mike, for two reasons. One, you are a good engineer, one of the best. Two, being honest about it, you seem to have a guardian angel upstairs and I don't need any hassles. I have a good thing here and I don't need it messed up. Understand?" 

"No problem, Peter. You were always fair with me. I won't let you down. I think I have beaten this thing." He stood up and extended his hand again. "Ah, Peter. The word around is that you married that woman from Brazil. Is that true? Because I would like the opportunity to apologize to her if I could."

I didn't want to bring up Maria into this. It would be better had he not to even mentioned that night. " There is no need for that, Mike. Just don't cause me any problems and I won't cause you any, I guess." I replied. 

He smiled and said, "Sure thing. I understand."

He walked out the door towards Pamela's office. I wasn't happy about things but knew that no good was going to come of his return. It wasn't that I was afraid for Maria. I was afraid for Mike and what Maria might do to him if they met again. And I was concerned for my cushy job, as well.

The next couple of days went by pretty well. Maria and I were great together, as always. We spent time thinking how to spend our anniversary. She wanted to go out to a local Brazilian restaurant for dinner and dancing. The dancing I could handle but her idea of cuisine made my acid reflux turn cartwheels. I was hoping for a little trip to a bed and breakfast about a days drive up I-95. We had spent some time there previously and it was quiet. I could have her all to myself. 

I may have seemed a little distracted to her; my mind racked trying to think what to get her. I nearly gave the game away one night when she came in and caught me looking through her collection of French perfumes. Ever the pragmatist, she just looked at me, wrinkled her nose and informed me. "None of those would smell very good on you, caro." I had to agree with her.

The next day my car was out getting a servicing so I had to borrow Maria's little Cooper. It was kind of cute and fun to drive occasionally but I still preferred mid –sized Chevy.

I had lunch with Mike and Stan Earle, another system guy. We had finished discussing the configuration for a new server and what resources they would need when Mike pulled me aside. 

"Look, Peter, I really need a favor from you, okay. I wouldn't ask but this is important." As I had mentioned, Mike was a good man work wise and he did seem to be cleaning up his act. "If I can, sure. What is it?"

"I really need to borrow your car for about an hour. I have to get a prescription filled and run an errand. I promise to have it back in pristine shape."

I wasn't happy about lending out the Cooper. To my mind it wasn't my car, it was Maria's. "Well, Mike, normally I would but I had to drive Maria's car today."

A strange look came over him and he grinned." Please. If I was going to be careful with yours I will take extra special care with hers. Please. I will return it with a full tank and clean as a whistle inside and out. What d'ya say. Please..."

I hated to see a grown man beg. "Okay, but if you put one scratch on it you can give your soul to the Lord because your ass is mine."

"No problem. You have my word." He replied. Why is it that people always say you have their word just before they are going to fuck you?

I tossed him the keys. "Here. It's the red Mini-Cooper in the 3rd row, south-east lot. Be careful!" 

The rest of the afternoon was spent with me on pins and needles. I was certain that a call informing me the Cooper had been totaled was imminent. I tried to keep busy but my mind rewound to that silly moment when I had given permission to a total idiot that he could drive my wife's car. An hour passed, then two. Pamela came in with some papers for an upcoming budget meeting to sign. I signed without even reading them and handed them back while glancing at the little clock on my desk and then compared the times. 

"Peter, are you okay?" she asked with more than a note of concern.

"Pam, do I have the word stupid tattooed on my forehead?"

She frowned and didn't bother to answer. She just left. It was a rhetorical question anyhow. Finally, at about 3:45 pm he returned and tossed me the keys. Mike thanked me and told me he had gassed it up and had the carwash wash and detail it. When I left that night, I checked the body work out and found no damage. I had dodged that bullet but it was the last time I was lending out Maria's car! I couldn't deal with the strain. 

When I came home the next day Maria was unusually attentive. She is normally an affectionate woman but that night she was exceptionally so. I walked through the door as she was preparing dinner dressed in what appeared to be only one of my white dress shirts. The white contrasted sharply wit the natural cinnamon of her complexion and her thick raven hair. As she moved about the kitchen the effect was at once erotic and voyeuristic. I felt like I had intruded on an intimate moment. 

I stepped up behind her a pressed my lips to the back of her neck and breathed in her scent. "You look much better in this than I, caro. You also smell as delicious as that food."

She smiled and kissed me deeply. "Sit. I have a special night for tonight," she explained. 

"What is the occasion?" I asked, my mind drawing a blank. Our anniversary wasn't for a couple of days yet and my birthday was months away. 

She looked up from what she was doing. "Do I need an occasion?"

"No, but..." I began.

"Hush and wash. Dinner is finished".

We ate in silence. Maria seemed distracted but wouldn't say what was bothering her. After dinner, dishes tucked into the washer, we sat and talked about the days events over a glass of sangria. I told her that Mike had returned to the company and while she was not happy about it she took the news in stride. This struck me as odd but I wasn't going to ruin an evening by pressing the point. 

During most of the conversation Maria succeeded in distracting me by running her finger across my back. That, coupled with her attire, kept me from staying on topic. Presently, she leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against mine. 

"Don't you think it is time for bed?" she asked.

I wasn't about to argue with that. We rose and made our way into the bedroom with our arms around one another. She swung around and kissed me again. Her hand slid around and took me by the hair and pulled my mouth closer to hers. Her mouth devoured mine. Her hand slid down and gently massaged my balls. My breath caught from pleasure and pain. Her head pulled back for a moment as her tongued flicked out and licked my lips. I could barely make out her heavily lidded eyes. 

"Tonight is for us, darling, just us together," she breathed as her mouth came back to mine. I moved to position her closer to the bed when she spun and deposited me on the mattress first. Her mouth continued its work on mine as she began moving her hand across my stomach. My own hand began to caress her breast when she moved it away and placed it on the bed. 

"You first, meu velho homem." She breathed into my mouth. Her kiss came again, fragrant wit her desire. Maria loves to kiss and she proved it again and again. She shifted her body further up on mine and began unbuttoning my shirt, her mouth traveling to take up each space vacated by her busy fingers. She traveled down un-tucking my shirt. I pulled it off and our mouths returned to one another. Her hands were busy moving further and began to unbuckle my belt and remove my pants. 

I was awash in sensation. I felt helpless beneath her actions. I was going to be made loved to and there was little I could or wanted to do to stop it. She barely moved as she took off my pants. Her hand reached into the fly of my boxers and found my swollen cock. Slowly she began to stroke it up and down. She pushed herself up and rubbed her inner thigh against my leg. I moaned. Her flesh was warm against mine. 

She took my cock out from my shorts and took it into her mouth. Slowly she moved her head up and down its length while her hand pumped it. I lay back and groaned. Then she began to lick up and down the under shaft with her tongue like it was some sort of Popsicle. My hands moved down and took her hair and I groaned.

"Caro, quit, I'll come too soon," I protested. Her answer was to look up at me, smile and return to her work. 

Her mouth, warm and wet, encircled the tip in a little 'O'. Her fingers gripped the base and she pushed down enveloping me. Her warm thigh continued to stroke mine sending me a flood of sensation. Her mouth moved up and down in a steady rhythm pushing me ever loser to the edge. Once I could take it no longer I reached over and took her hands. She rolled onto her back as I kissed her gently and licked at her ear. 

"No, this is for you," she protested.

My lips moved down to her breast. "Yes, yes, it is."

My tongue traced a line from her nipple to her pussy. I kissed the inside of each thigh and then began kissing her sex. By this time, my own need was building. Her hips began to undulate against my mouth. I stuck my tongue as far into her as I could. She moaned and I placed my arms around her thighs and pulled her closer into me. Her hands moved down and grabbed my hair pulling me deeper. Her hips sped their tempo and I knew that she was close. I stopped what I was doing and she moaned in protest. 

I moved up close and placed the head of my cock next to her. I rubbed it against her. She responded by grinding her hips faster and forcing me into her. I didn't respond immediately. Instead I rubbed the head against her. She groaned and bucked against me in protest. 

I inserted the tip and began moving it in and out. Her gyrations increased. Finally I sank into her warmth and she moaned from somewhere deep inside. I stretched out over her and reached back holding her bom-bom in my hands to set our rhythm. 

I began to rotate my hips in sync with hers, making sure to press my pelvis tight against her clit with each stroke. Our mouths locked again and our tongues danced in their own rhythm. 

Without warning she heaved up, throwing me over on my back. In a fluid movement she threw a silken leg over me, straddled me and thrust me deep inside her. Her eyes blazed as she placed her hands on my chest holding me down. Her hips ground against mine as we both reached for our climax. She was in control now and I felt as if I existed just as an appendage for my cock. My presence was superfluous to her need. 

She ground faster and soon I could feel her body contract as she reached her release. This pushed me over and we both fell into an abyss of sensation. 

For minutes we lay there, sated and exhausted. I could feel both our hearts beating and her breath came ragged against my chest. Her eyes looked up at me and softened. 

"I love you, Peter." It was plea, a statement and affirmation all in one. I slicked back her damp hair and kissed her forehead. 

"I love you, too, meu caro. Only you." I lay back, drained and waited for the peace of sleep.

From the edges of the consciousness I could hear her soft reply, "Remember that, meu homem velho"

The next two days were spent tiding up a few loose ends at work in preparation for my anniversary. I confess that my mind had a habit of drifting off to that might wondering what she could have possibly meant by her last comment. Had it really been as ominous as it seemed?

The only other odd occurrence happened the day before our anniversary. I had been walking down the hall from my office to the Quality Assurance department. This brought me past the Men's room. From a distance I heard a milling like a scuffle from the men's john followed by quick footsteps. I moved off in that direction when the door flew open and Dan Turner came out. He was bent over, clutching at his crotch and apparently in pain. On his face was a bright red splotch. His eyes took a second to focus and he pushed past me and limped down the hall toward his cube. I am not one to get into another man's business. I figure that if it was that painful to piss, the son-of-a-bitch had probably received a real good dose of the clap from whatever bimbette he was screwing currently. There was a God!

Later that day I received a call from Maria asking if I would meet her for a drink at the lounge in a nearby Hilton hotel. I agreed and we made a date for 6 o'clock that evening. At 5:30 I packed up my laptop and made ready to leave. Pam had left earlier and the cubes outside were pretty much vacant as I made my way back out to my car. I did stop by Dan turners cube and found him there. He seemed a bit startled to see me. 

"Un hi, Peter. How are things?" he said. His eyes avoided mine. 

"That's fine with me but what about you? Are you doing okay?"

"What do you mean?" he sputtered.

"You haven't seemed your old self. And the way you have been walking around you look like you're in some pain there. Anything I can help with?" I pressed. As a manager I had to appear like I cared whether I did or not. Actually, his pecker could have rotted off in his hand for all I cared. 

"No, thanks, I'm fine. Peter, you speak Portuguese a little don't you?" he asked plaintively.

"Yeah. Why. You aren't thinking of going back to Brazil, are you?! That would be a really bad idea, Mike."

He shook his head. "No. Do you know what 'quando um homem quer lhe mostrar a cabeça, mostre-lhe a raiz porco bastardo' means?"

I frowned. "Well, best as I can guess porco bastardo means 'pig bastard'. As for the rest, I think it means something like 'if a man wants to show you its head, show him its root.' Where the hell did you hear that?"

"He rubbed his crotch again and grimaced. " Must have read it somewhere."




Put to the Test Ch. 03



I looked down at him. "You really need to get that looked after, Mike"

He smiled faintly. "Yeah, I will thanks"

Duty done I began to move off. "Okay. Whatever. I'm off to meet with Maria. I'll tell her you send your best," 

He called after me. "Peter! You don't have to do that!" Was that panic in his voice?

I arrived at the Hilton lounge right at 6 o'clock. My eyes scanned the room. No Maria yet. It was pretty empty save for a large, grey bearded man accompanied sitting alone in one of the booths and a very attractive blond seated at the bar. I approached the bar and ordered a Sam Adams. The bartender served it. Since I knew Maria was due in I asked him to run a tab. He agreed. 

I am not a particularly egotistical man but as I sat there waiting for my wife I could have sworn that the blond sitting at the other end of the bar had been staring at me. Twice now, I had caught her looking in my direction. As nonchalantly as I could, I stole a look behind me. I had thought there would be another door or booth which had been the object of her attention. My recon revealed only a poorly decorated wall. The woman was otherwise. She was dressed in a beige skirt, and white blouse. Across the bar seat beside her was folded a jacket which matched her skirt. Her skirt was a tad too short to be used solely for business reasons. Her legs were long and graceful and brought to mind the thought that at sometime she must have been a dancer. Her breasts were not large but well rounded and firm. I figured that she must have been your standard modern female career professional here to meet her boyfriend. For a moment I envied him. 

I had just taken a long pull at my beer when my cell went off. I hate the thing, but Maria had insisted on our having them. I looked at the calling number and frowned. "Maria. where the hell are you?"

"Peter, I am hung up at the moment. I won't be able to make it for at least an hour, if at all. I have an emergency translation I have to do. Is that okay?" Her voice had an odd quality to it, something I hadn't heard before. For a moment I thought she was lying to me. 

"Okay. I'm on my way home" I replied.

"No! no, I want you to stay there. Have a beer. Relax, meu homem velho. You deserve it. Come home later and I will have dinner ready."

"Maria, I don't like being out without you, you know that," I complained.

Her laugh filtered over the phone. "Don't be silly! Have a beer and relax. I will see you later."

I frowned into the cell as she hung up. What the hell was going on? Was everyone going crazy? First Mike then Maria...

"Don't you hate when they do that?" cane a voice from the other side of the bar. The blond was addressing me. She smiled revealing a set of white teeth almost as perfect as her legs. 

I cleared my throat. "I beg your pardon?"

"You spend all day working, looking forward to an evening out and they all and cancel at the last minute." She explained.

I smiled absently. "Yeah. How did you know?"

She laughed. "Happens so often to me, I can recognize all the signs" she slid off her stool. As she did her shirt slid up past mid thigh revealing legs that were even better than I originally had thought. She retrieved her drink and moved over in my direction.

I couldn't believe that anyone would stand her up! She sat her drink down and held out her hand. "Sandy Roberts. And you are?"

I shook my head for a minute. This was unbelievable. "Peter Molloy. I'm pleased to meet you, Sandy." 

"Pleased to meet you, Pete." She smiled. It was a very pleasing smile. She sat on the seat next to me, again revealing an equally pleasing glimpse of thigh.

"Please, if we re going to be friends, don't call me Pete. It's Peter." 

"Okay, Peter. There." She took a sip of something which appeared tropical. All it was lacking was an umbrella. She slipped off the seat. She placed her hand on my leg. "Just a minute." She sashayed off in the direction of the booth with the grey bearded gentleman. Instead she veered right and began feeding the jukebox. She returned just as Toni Braxton's HQ2 rendition of "Spanish Guitar" began.

"And are we, Peter?" she asked innocently.

I took another sip of my San Adams. "Are we what?"

"Going to be friends?"

"Well, I certainly hope so!" I smiled.

We spent the next twenty minutes talking about her work and mine. It seemed a safe topic and I really enjoyed her company. She worked as a systems analyst for a company whose offices were in the set of buildings next to mine. Several times she laughed at an anecdote of mine and her hand again found my leg and each time I had difficulty hiding the resulting tightness in my pants and my throat. I admit that I wasn't particularly upset about it. I enjoyed sitting there, a lovely woman who had similar experiences and who could relate to the problems I was having. She also had a problem child like Mike in her own company. 

"Peter, why don't we take this somewhere else." She asked.

"I beg your pardon?" I croaked.

"You know." She smiled.

"Ah, actually no I don't." I countered. She couldn't be suggesting what I thought she was.

"Peter, I know you find me attractive, Peter. And I think you are pretty cute. Why don't we take this over to my place? Get to really know one another." She crossed those magnificent legs again to accentuate her point.

"I'm married, Sandy", my voice rasped. I held up my left hand revealing wedding ring.

She looked around the room. "And where is your wife? Is she here with you? Wasn't that her on the phone?" 

Sandy had a point. Maria was at home, supposedly. Although for a brief moment I wondered at that too, her behavior had been strange the past couple of days. She knew that I was looking forward to this time together, especially since our anniversary was almost here. What was she doing anyway? 

I looked at the woman sitting across from me. She was beautiful, very beautiful. I wasn't getting any younger and how often did a chance like this rear up?

She leaned forward revealing a creamy sight of breast. "Come on, Peter, just his once. I'm lonely and so are you," she whispered softly in my ear. "No one will ever know." She moved here hand and placed it on my crotch. My cock immediately took notice.

I looked from her eyes to her hand which was slowly moving back down my thigh after its brief introduction to my cock. "You're wrong, Sandy. I'll know." I took the hand wandering down my thigh and put it on the table. 

Confused, Sandy asked, "What?"

"I said I would know," I repeated. 

She smiled. "Well, just you and I then."

I shook my head. "Sandy, you are a very beautiful woman and I know I am probably going to hate myself in the morning, but not as much I would hate myself if I went with you tonight."

"You're turning me down," she asked incredulously. Obviously this didn't happen often enough.

"Yes, I am. I am married. I have a responsibility to myself and to my wife. No, she isn't here and she might never know if you and I actually did the mattress mambo. But I think she would. So, if you don't mind, I have to head home while I am still in my right mind." I rose from my seat. Sandy remained where she was, stunned. 

I held out my hand. "Sandy, I hope we can still be friends. But that is all." She took it and we shook hands. "And the guy who stood you up tonight is a damn fool and you can tell him I said so."

I moved away toward the door and home. I noticed the grey bearded guy watching me as I walked out. I turned and looked back at Sandy one last time. I was certain that I could see a small smile crease her lips as I went through the door.

Back in my car, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Part of me kept nagging at me that I must be the stupidest man alive. A beautiful, sexy woman had just done everything but rape me on the bar, and yet here I was, on my home to a wife who wasn't acting herself. But the better part of me, the part that most men wished won out more times than it did had scored the victory tonight. Maria had been right. I was a better man, a different man. Twenty years ago I would have gone to bed with Sandy without conscience or cost. But that Peter Molloy was no longer here, supplanted by the new and improved model. 

Oh, I still had questions. Why was Maria acting so strangely? What the hell was Mike's problem? Was it contagious? For a brief flickering moment I thought: what if Maria and he were having an affair? I chuckled. No, that wasn't it, of that I was sure. 

As I put the key in the ignition, through the rearview I could see Sandra walking to a expensive white BMW. Accompanying her was the grey bearded man I had seen sitting in the booth. Well, looks like we had both gotten lucky that night. She had grey beard. I had Maria and if she was still of the mind, maybe an addition. 

And now, after this test, I knew I was finally worthy of her. 



Put to the Test Ch. 04



Chapter 4: Maria's Test

Last part in which all will be revealed. What is Maria's test? What is going on between her and Mike? Will Peter find he is a better man only to find his love is not as good a woman? Again, I am responsible any errors in translations. As always, many thanks to friend, fiend, and editor, LadyCibelle.

*

My name is Maria Marlene Lucinea. Until a year ago, has it been so long? It seems like just yesterday I had met the man who would bring fulfillment to me. My dear Peter. Until a year ago when we met I had been alive but never so full of life. Peter is a good man, but at times he doesn't know this. Sometimes, in those unguarded moments when he is lost in his thoughts I can see the strength and peace in him. But there are demons as well. It was one such demon which threatened the peace of my home and I would dispel it. 

Making love with Peter was the most fulfilling that I have ever experienced. It is not because he is particularly adept. He is not particularly well-endowed, as you say. I have had lovers who were bigger, some more practiced, many with more self-confidence. But these are but mere aspects of sex. Peter touches me where no man has before; he touches me in meus coração e alma, how you would say my heart and soul. We meld together our spirits, not just our bodies. This is what a woman wants and my Peter gives me this, every time.

But the shadow does come upon occasion. Peter and I have had but one disagreement in the year we have been wife and husband. I wanted a child. I wanted his child. One night after our love making I told him of my feelings and of my need for a child to make us complete. He had been running his fingers across my thigh in a vacant way, a small smile creasing his features. Peter is not handsome to many women but he has an inner strength which shows there and in his brown eyes. 

"Meu homem velho, are you awake?" I asked.

His eyes opened and focused on me. "You know I am." He moved closer and buried is face in my hair. Like many women from my country, it is long and black. He loves this as do I because it gives him pleasure. 

"Peter, I want something from you, something very important to me."

His answer to this was to push his face closer to me and kiss my neck. "If this is about your mother coming up for a visit, I already said she could." he replied sleepily.

I pushed his face away so could look into is eyes. "Peter I want us to have a child."

His head moved away slowly. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. I want us to complete our love with a baby. A child, our child. This is wrong?" I asked surprised at his reaction. 

He looked at me for a moment. "Maria, sweetheart, you have never mentioned this before. Why now?"

"Because we are having our first anniversary next week. I wanted a year for myself with you alone. Now it is time to look to the future," I explained. Wasn't this obvious? 

"Maria, I am 52 years old. I had one child and made a mess of it. I don't think I am the best candidate"

I waved aside his protest. "Foolishness. You are a good father. Was your daughter not here just last month and stayed a week?"

"Yes, but..."

"There are no 'buts'. I want a child," I insisted. 

He ran his hand through his thin hair and look at me. His eyes softened and he smiled in his way. "Well, can I have sometime to think about this? Do we have to decide tonight?"

I agreed. "You can have until our anniversary. Then we will begin to make our baby" He really did have little choice.

Despite his protests of age I knew what really had bothered him. He did not trust himself!

He had been married once and had cheated on his wife of that time. This resulted in a divorce and she and this daughter had moved to California. Peter had little contact with his daughter and felt guilty about this; guilt about the affair, guilt about what he considered the abandonment of his family and his own values. I knew that he was not the same man. We all change from our experience and that the experience had changed him and made him stronger. Peter, on the other hand, had a nagging thought that he had been born to be unfaithful. Men are so foolish at times. 

The next day, I rose and sent Peter off to his work. As I worked about cozying up the house, my mind was filled with the thought of how I could drive this demon away. I even wondered if I would have to. Slowly, a plan began to develop in my mind. If we had a child it would also help to show my husband that he was a good man and worthy of the happiness we shared. 

That night Peter seemed distracted. I thought it was perhaps due to the pressures of his work. He had taken a more responsible desk job at a firm in order to spend more time at home and with me. I asked him what was bothering him but he brushed the question aside. He doesn't like when I worry about him and his work. 

The next day or so was spent with more discussions about how to spend our anniversary. Peter is a dear, but I wanted to go to a friend's Brazilian restaurant which she had opened in our city. The music was authentic Tropicali and brought to me the memories of home. Peter thought we should go to a B&B we had frequented before. I did not want to spend time alone. I wanted to spend time with friends and let them share in my happiness. 

I finished in the kitchen and glanced at the time. I had promised to fix my husband a special dinner the next evening and to do so, there were some special ingredients needed. Also, I wanted to stop by the bookstore and pick up a couple of books Peter had wanted written by the Spanish author Roberto Perez-Reverte in the original Spanish.

I dressed and walked out to the little Cooper which meu caro had bought for me. I loved it. It was inexpensive and cute. I looked around it. Peter had used it the previous day and I knew that the people at his work were not that careful in the parking lot. I opened the door and stepped in. I reached to adjust the seat when my eyes fell on a piece of pale blue cloth. I picked it up. It was a pair of women's panties! I was shocked! How did they get in there? I inspected then. They certainly were not mine as they were far too big and certainly not to my taste! But where had they come from? My mind refused to believe what my eyes were telling me. Peter had had another woman in my car! I would find out the truth. A woman must if she is to fight for her home. I would find the cadela barata who had dared to touch him and kill her! But first I need to know the truth. 

That night, I wore his favorite perfume, and dressed in just his shirt. I often did this when he was at work because I could feel closer to him even when he was gone. After our dinner, we talked of insignificant things. Peter told me of how he had been upset because a former co-worker had managed to comeback to work for Peter's firm. Peter was not happy about it. I knew of this man, Mike, and to me he was a pig. To those of you who had read of how Peter and I met, you are familiar with the porco, Mike, so I will not go into any detail. It is enough to say he was a pig

I took Peter to our bed and we made love until we were both spent. I made certain that he knew he was loved, he was wanted and that he was my man and none others. In my heart, I knew that my Peter had not been unfaithful to our vows but my mind needed to be reassured. As sleep came to us that night I turned to him.

"I love you, Peter." I said hoping he would understand with this terrible thing I must do.

"I love you, too, meu caro. Only you."

My heart sang with these words. I knew he was mine. Nothing would change that. "Remember that, meu homem velho"

The next day I went to an appointment with a private investigator. I was not proud of what I was about to do but a woman must do what she must to save her marriage and her life. From the yellow pages I knew that he performed something called "fidelity investigations". This was what I would use to prove to my husband that he was a good man.

Upon my arrival I was escorted by a young woman to a rather empty conference room. She bade me to sit which I did. 

"Mrs. Molloy, Mr. Baxter will be with you shortly. Would you care for some coffee while you wait? " she asked.

"Yes, thank you," I replied.

"Do you take cream and sugar?"

"Black, please."

She went off and came back with a small Styrofoam cup of dark liquid. I took it and thanked her. She left me with my thoughts. I took a sip of the coffee and grimaced. I was right; água suja, dirty water. Americans could never brew coffee properly. At this moment, the door opened and a man entered. He was taller than Peter, perhaps 183 cm and heavyset. Not fat, but powerfully built. He had a kind face framed by a growth of greyish white beard which matched the color of his hair. His eyes were blue and kind. He put out his hand.

"Mrs. Molloy? I am Derek Baxter. Are you comfortable?" 

I stood and shook his hand, a custom with which I am still not comfortable. We sat and he took out a pad of legal paper. "Can I get you anything? More coffee, perhaps?"

I grimaced at the thought. "No, Mr. Baxter. I am quite alright."

He must have noticed the look on my face. "It does take some getting used to, doesn't it? How may we be of service?" 

I couldn't believe I was about to do this thing I must. But there was no help for it. I must know before our baby was born. "Mr. Baxter, I believe you have a service which you call fidelity investigation?"

"Yes." He answered.

"I believe I need this service."

He sat back. "Do you think your husband is cheating on you, Mrs. Molloy?"

I shook my head. "No, I do not. I know he is not. Peter is not that kind of man"

Mr. Baxter sighed. "Mrs. Molloy, I am given to think that any man is that kind of man under most circumstances. But if you are so sure he isn't cheating on you, why do you want our services?"

I hesitated unsure as to whether to go on or not. "Mr. Baxter, can you be discrete?"

"My business is built on discretion, Mrs. Molloy" he said. I explained everything to him. I had to trust this man. I told him of how Peter and I met, of our marriage and Peter's past. He listened politely stopping only to take notes. Finally, he looked up and regarded me before saying, "Ma'am, there is a saying, once a cheater, always a cheater. If I am going to help you we must be honest with each other. Do you have any reason to believe that he may be cheating on you?"

I reached to my purse and pulled out the panties I had found in the glove compartment. He took the offensive thing and set it in front of him on the table. 

"Any thing else?"

I shook my head. He sat there for a moment and then rose and walked to the door. "Get Sandy for me will you?" He returned and looked at me. 

"These aren't yours, right?"

"They are at least a size too large, Mr. Baxter."

The door opened and a young and very attractive woman of about thirty came in. She was dressed in designer jeans and a red blouse. Her hair was blond and attractively styled. She took as seat next to Mr. Baxter. 

"Mrs. Molloy, this is Sandy. She is one of my investigators. We use her when possible on our fidelity investigations. She is very good at it."

I nodded to the woman. "How do you do?"

She smiled and said "Fine"

Mr. Baxter continued. "Sandra will be the one to attempt to seduce your husband. I warn you, she has failed only twice."

I smiled back at her. "You must be very proud." Puta. 

"Mrs. Molloy, before we go any further, you must realize that Sandra's job is going to be to seduce your husband if possible. She won't actually sleep with him but she will go far enough so that there will no doubt that she could have if she so desired. Are you prepared for that?"

I nodded firmly. "Yes."

"Very well," he said. "You should also know that I will be there to act as witness, we will film the encounter, and that we will have sound as well. When we are finished, we will bring the copies of all of this, as well as our findings directly to you. Do you understand?"

Mr. Baxter held up the panties I had found in my car. "And these? What do you want us to do about these?"

I looked from the panties into the detectives eyes. "I will attend to them. No mater what happens" I promised. 

"Yes, Mr. Baxter. But in my heart I know Peter has not been unfaithful."

He smiled indulgently. "Well, that is what we will find out, isn't it? I admit that the panties do bother me. It was almost like you were meant to find them, don't you think?"

We spent the rest of the hour making our plans. I would have my answer on the day of our anniversary.

The next day was uneventful. I spent the time working on a translation and getting the house together for our anniversary. I was still uneasy about what I was doing to Peter. I believed in him with all my heart, but I was still troubled about the panties. Mr. Baxter had been correct. My finding the panties when and where I did was certainly suspect to me. But what could be the explanation? I puzzled over this for the remainder of the day but found no answers.

The following day was the time I had scheduled for Peter's test. With a woman's intuition I knew that I would have my answers today. Although my head said the one thing, still my heart believed that meu homem velho was innocent. He had been faithful to me and our home. Thinking of this made me lonely. I confess that I still miss my home in Brazil and have few friends here. So, I decided I would go to Peter's work and see if I could persuade him to have lunch with me. It is a wife's prerogative, no?

I arrived at Peter's work shortly before one o'clock. I knew of a delicatessen which served a type of sandwich called Ham and Swiss that he loved I did not understand it. It was far too bland for my tastes. I entered the main building and was just heading down an adjacent hall when I saw the porco, Mike, walking with another man in conversation. They did not see me but turned into the men's toalete, facilities. As he did I overheard him say my name! I looked about and placed my ear against the door. 

I could not hear very well but it seemed that he and this man were saying something about my Peter. Gently, I pushed open the door and peered inside. They were both standing at the toalete's doing business and could just hear what they were saying. 

"Yeah, and then, I had an inspiration from God, I tell you." Mike was saying. 

"If Peter ever finds out what you did, he's going to kill you." The other man replied.

"How is he going to find out? What can he say?"

"So you just left the bitches panties in his wife's car? That's balls man!"

"Yeah, well, he's the reason I got canned in the first place. Him and that little Brazilian bitch he married." The porco replied. 

Both men stepped back were zipping themselves.

"I knew I owed ol' Pete big time. I had been planning some payback, All I needed was the right time and place. And then he hands it right to me! He lends me his wife's car! Can you imagine?"

What was I hearing? The porco, Mike had been in my car? Peter had lent him my car? I knew it must have been only a few days ago. 

"So, here I was, going out on company time to gets some primo poonanny. My car is out with some trouble. And Peter hands me the keys to the old lady's car." He turned on the faucet to wash. "So, I go over to Kate's. Her husband is in Ft. Collins on a training gig and she is hot to go. That woman can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch, let me tell you!" 

"You better hope he never finds out. He may decide to cut your ass up!" the other man admonished. "A lot of guys, especially guys like Jim don't play around, you know."

"Ah, fuck him. What he doesn't know, you know? Anyway, Kate and I get some afternoon delight and as I am leaving, I have a brainstorm. I keep her panties. I told her it was for sentimental reasons. Then as I am driving home, I tuck them down in the seat. Man when that Maria finds them she is going to shit. I could tell when I met her she was the nasty type."

"What do you think she'll do when she find them?"

Porco laughed. "Man, she will dump Pete's ass so fast. Take him to the cleaners, too. And then there will be Mike, right there to console her." He laughed evilly. 

I stood back. My Peter had not cheated. Peter still loved me and only me. What had I done? Tonight he would be tempted by another woman because of a moment of doubt. I had been the one tested, my love and trust had been tested and I had failed my husband because of this porco! Maybe I could not undo what I had done, but I had to deal with Mike. I had told Mr. Baxter that I would deal with the issue of the panties and I was a woman of my word. 

I stepped into the open. Both men saw me and stood still. I could tell they were nervous wondering how much I had heard of their filth. 

I smiled and looked at the other man. "May have a word alone with Mike for a moment?"

The other man muttered something and went quickly out the door leaving only me and the bastardo Mike. I walked up too him and smiled.

"Hello, Mike. Are you not happy to see me? It has been a long time." I said as sweetly as I could. 

He looked around. "Sure. Hi, Maria. Listen, I don't know what you heard but I can explain."

I pressed my fingers to his lips to shush his lies. "Mike, if you wanted to see me all you had to do was call."

The man Mike smiled slowly. Some men are all alike. They think every woman is ready to shed her clothes the minute the man walks into the room. They are wrong. I smiled and moved closer. I could sense his desire. I reached out and placed my hand on the front of his trousers. 

"Hmm it seems you are happy to see me after all, Mike" His thing was beginning to harden which is exactly what I wanted.

Mikes expression began to change as I massaged his swelling manhood. "You know, Maria, I knew we would become friends," he grinned. He reached out and placed his hands on my breasts and I had to hide my revulsion. I continued to massage him.

"May I see it?" I asked. 

His eyes closed as his hands cupped my breasts and he pushed himself further into my hand. "Sure. You know, a young woman like you needs a man to take care of her. A younger man." He began. 

I reached down and unzipped him and pulled his penis free. It was bigger than Peter's and thicker. It made my grip all the stronger. 

"Yes, Mike, I know. I need a man." At that moment my hand tightened and the anger and revulsion welled up. "But you are a pig, and not a tenth the man my husband is!" I hissed. 

Mikes eyes widened in shock as I held him and jerked out and down as hard as I could. "My father told me once, 'Quando um homem quer lhe mostrar a cabeça, mostre-lhe a raiz!' Porco bastardo!" I pulled on him again, hard and he nearly screamed. He stumbled forward as my hand shot out and I slapped him against the face. The sharp crack rang out and his breath escaped with a whoosh as he fell to the floor. 

Like a mad woman I kicked him in the groin again. "You pig!" I screamed at him. "You placed filthy whore's panties in my car and tried to cause trouble between me and my husband! I should kill you for that!"

Mike tried to roll away covering his genitals. I looked down at the poor excuse for a man. "You tried to cause trouble for a man who stood up for you, who kept you from a Sao Paulo jail! You are worse than a pig. Pigs around the world would spit on you!" I spat on him as he lay there. 

"If you come anywhere near me again, if I hear your name, I will come back here and feed you your own pathetic penis!" My foot lashed out. "Do you hear me?"

Mike groaned and said "Yes, yes I hear you!"

"Do you believe me?" I asked. 

"Fuck yes, I believe you! Leave me alone!" He whined. 

I walked over to the mirror and fixed my hair. "And Mike, I will be having a talk with the husband of this puta you fucked and then tried to frame my husband with. I would be very afraid if I were you.' I walked over to the door and stopped, taking one last look at Mike.




Put to the Test Ch. 04



"But if I were you, I would kill myself!" I spat on him one last time and left the men's room. As the door closed, I heard the scurry of footsteps and I ran in the other direction and returned to my car. 

I spent the rest of the day trying to call Mr. Baxter but he was out and I left a message for him to call. Finally, about four o'clock he did. I explained about Mike and the panties and what I had done. At the end he chuckled appreciatively. 

"Well, Mrs. Molloy, you certainly fixed him. So our business is finished, then?"

"No, Mr. Baxter. Continue as I requested," I responded. 

The phone was quiet for a moment. Finally he said, "You have your answers. Are you sure you want to continue? Maybe some things are best left as they are."

I spoke into the phone. I had to make this man understand. "No. It is not enough I know Peter is a good man, Mr. Baxter. Peter must know it, too, and that, he must learn for himself."

The voice on the other end signed. "Very well, Mrs. Molloy. Call your husband as we agreed. We'll get back in touch with you tomorrow and let you know what the results are."

He hung up and I called my husband to make a date for us to meet after his work. Shortly after six, I called again and told my husband I could not meet him and to stay. At first he would not but I convinced him to do it. 

I will not say it was an easy time. It was very heard for me not to get into my mini and put a stop to this terrible thing I was doing. But in my heart I knew that Peter had to learn to see himself as I saw him. Only then could we truly become a family. Finally, at five minutes after seven, the phone rang and a woman's voice said "Mrs. Molloy?" it asked.

"Yes." My heart was beating in my throat.

"This is Sandy. Do you remember me?"

"Of course. How are you?" I replied. 

"Mrs. Molloy, I usually don't do this but your husband just left. Maria, you have a good man there. You have nothing to worry about." she said.

I looked up to the wedding photo on our television. Peter had insisted on putting it there. "So, I can always see it," he had explained. Tears began to come to my eyes but I fought them back. 

"Yes, Sandy. I know I do. Thank you anyway."

She said something but I could not hear her because my Peter walked through at just that moment. I threw myself onto him. I kissed him as he has never been kissed. 

"Meu caro, you're crying! What is wrong?"

I laughed. "Nothing, meu homem velho! I am just happy!"

We kissed again as I lead to him to our bedroom. "You know what tomorrow is?"

He laughed. "Yes, our anniversary."

"And what did I tell you about it? Do you remember?"

He took my face in his hands. "Yes, querida, I remember. Yes, we will have a child. I think I'm ready. I think we are ready. We will be a family, querida."

Later, as the silence came upon after our love, I thought of how my life had changed. I had a home, a good man, a man who finally had come to grips with his own demons, and I would begin a family. We had fought for our love and won. We had been tested. There would be pain in future as well, but I knew that Peter and I now had the strength to face them. There was just one last duty that I, Maria, Marlene Luciena Molly had to perform.

I gently brushed my hand across my husbands face as he drifted to sleep, contented. 

"Peter?" I said softly. 

"Sim, querida?" came my husbands sleepy voice. 

"Never lend my car out to anyone again."