But Candice received a sudden shock before she had a chance to try out her plan with Martin. She discovered a pair of panties in the pocket of one of his jackets as she prepared to send the jacket to be cleaned. The blue lace panties certainly were not hers. She remembered that Martin had recently worn the suit on a trip to Houston. The presence of the panties in his pocket meant he was cheating on her. With a blonde, she thought. A blonde would wear pale blue panties. Candice carried the panties to the garbage and threw them out. Her hands were trembling.
She was confused. She was angry. She was pained at the idea that Martin would cheat on her. Then she told herself she was crazy to think about it like that. She'd been having affairs for months, so how could she be so upset about Martin? She realized how unfair it was to be so disturbed about his cheating. If he was cheating. She had to find out for sure. She was certain she'd go crazy thinking about it unless she knew for certain one way or the other.
She began looking for someone to help her. She finally found a private detective named George Molloy. He came to the house one evening when Martin was out of town for two days on a short trip. Candice asked Molloy if he wanted a drink and Molloy declined.
"I don't drink when I'm working," Molloy said.
"Well, I'm drinking," Candice said. "I can't talk about this unless I have a drink. I'd feel more comfortable if you have one with me."
Molloy nodded and said he'd have a bourbon and water. Candice made his drink, brought it to him and sat down facing him in an easy chair. She was nervous. She sipped the vodka she had poured into a glass. "You said on the phone you could find out about my husband. How long will it take?"
They talked about her belief that Martin was cheating. Molloy asked questions about Martin, about his job and habits. He said the fact that Martin traveled a great deal would make the investigation expensive. Candice said she had the money. She said she wanted Molloy to find out about Martin one way or the other and she would pay him whatever was necessary. Molloy took a retainer and said he would get to work. Two weeks later Candice met Molloy in a cocktail lounge downtown and he turned over a photograph of Martin and a woman entering a taxi on a street not two blocks away from where Candice was sitting.
"He picked this one up in a place down the street, one of those singles bars," Molloy said. "He also had a girl last week in Cleveland but I couldn't get a photograph. Anyway, he's been seeing some women, all right."
Candice was mesmerized by the photo. "Here in town?"
"I took the picture myself."
"Where did they go?"
Molloy sighed. "They went to her apartment. He was up there three, hours and then he came down alone and went home. In Cleveland the story was the same. He doesn't make it with hookers. He goes to a singles bar, picks up a girl and goes home with her. So I think you've got a little problem with your husband."
"You don't know how big it is."
"Yes, I do know. I've been in this business a long time."
Molloy tried to console her. He talked to Candice about marriage and cheating and why people do it. Candice liked him and she was extremely upset about Martin. When Molloy asked her to have dinner with him in the restaurant attached to the bar, she accepted and was thankful for it.
They continued talking during dinner and she had two more drinks. She felt miserable and confused. She wrote a check out for Molloy and handed it to him. "I guess I won't need you anymore."
Molloy nodded. "Come on, I'll drive you home."
Molloy took her out to his car, and once they were inside they somehow moved together and Candice found herself kissing him. Molloy pulled away and chuckled. "Now we're mixing business with pleasure. I don't like to do that!"
"Kiss me again!" Candice said.
He kissed her again. He put one of his big hands on her tits and fondled her. Candice felt better about Martin. She always felt better in the arms of a man. Molloy continued kissing her and soon his hand dropped down under her skirt and between her legs to find her pussy.
"We could go to my place," Molloy said.
Candice shook her head. "No, I don't want to." She was not anxious to fuck him. All she wanted to do was get her mind off Martin and her problems. She found Molloy's zipper, pulled it down and searched inside his pants for his cock. He groaned when she brought his cock out. "Why don't you come to my place?"
She didn't answer him. Instead, she went down on him, closing her mouth over his cock-knob and sucking up the fuck-juice that was already leaking out of his piss-hole. This was one way to forget about Martin. With a juicy cock in her mouth, the problems she had no longer seemed to matter. Molloy had a nice cock, his cock-knob clean and tasty and hot. She pumped his cock-shaft with her fingers. She wanted to bring him off in her mouth. She wanted the sharp taste of jism in her mouth.
Martin, go fuck yourself, she thought. She had never thought about Martin like that before and she felt suddenly liberated. Then Molloy groaned and started shooting his load in her mouth and she had to pay attention to what was happening. She finished milking him with her hand, sucking on his piss-hole to get the last of his come.
When she finally pulled her mouth away, Molloy whistled through his teeth. "Christ, you know how to do that, don't you?"
Candice sat up and wiped her mouth with a tissue. "How come you're not married?"
Molloy laughed. "I was married ten years and now I'm divorced. I like it better this way. I get to meet more people!"
"Like me!"
"Sure, like you. Let's go somewhere and have a party!"
She turned him down. She had the taste of his jism in her mouth, but she didn't want to fuck him. She was too depressed to do anything except let him drive her home.
It took a while for Candice to work up the nerve to confront Martin, but finally she did it. She told him she knew he slept with other women and she said they had to talk about it.
At first Martin denied it. He said it wasn't true. He expressed his annoyance. "Where the hell are you getting ideas like that?"
Candice told him about the private detective and about the photograph. "If you want to see the photograph, I still have it."
"Jesus Christ!"
"Martin, we've got to talk."
"All right, we're talking."
"I've been cheating, too."
"What?"
"You heard me. We've bath been cheating each other!"
He groaned and started pacing the room, swearing at her, questioning her to make sure he understood what she was trying to tell him. "What the hell for?"
"Because I was lonely."
"Oh Jesus!"
"And what about you? Were you lonely, too?"
"Sometimes I just need some diversion. It's the job, Candice. Sometimes the fucking job drives me up the wall and I just have to blow off some steam!"
"But not with me?"
"If you want to fight, we'll fight!" She didn't want to fight, she wanted to repair her marriage. She made him sit down beside her on the sofa and she kissed him. A hot kiss. She pushed her tongue inside his mouth.
"I think we love each other," she said.
They consoled each other in their misery. She kissed him again and put her hand in his lap. She giggled when she found he had a hard-on. She unzipped his fly, brought his cock out and rubbed her thumb over his wet knob. "I guess I still turn you on. Tell me about those women."
She pulled it out of him, made him tell her about his affairs, his women, what the women did in bed and what they looked like. Martin was soon talking freely about everything and Candice could tell that the more he talked the more turned on he was getting.
Then he asked her about her lovers and she told him a few things. Not everything. She didn't tell him about the women, or about Mrs. Fogarty fucking her in the ass with a dildo. She didn't think Martin could handle that. Maybe someday, but not now.
Then she convinced him to come with her to the bedroom. With his cock hard and leaking like it was, he didn't need much convincing to get him there. They both giggled as she led him along by his cock. "I'm going to do things to you."
"Like what?"
She teased. "Oh, you'll see. I'm going to get you so hot, you'll go crazy."
That was the idea she had from the Fogarty's. She understood now she had to make Martin so hot that he would depend on her for his sexual satisfaction. He might fuck another woman here and there, but he would always come back to his wife to get the real thing.
In the bedroom they undressed. Candice told him she wanted to give him a massage.
Martin snickered. "You never did that before. What do you know about that?"
"Maybe I've been working in a massage parlor."
"The hell you have!"
She made him lie down on the bed on his stomach. She poured skin lotion over his back and began massaging him. She worked on his shoulders and back and then his lower back. He mumbled something when she started massaging his ass.
"I didn't hear you," she said.
"I said you're good," Candice chuckled. "Sure, I'm good. What about this? Do you like this?" She rubbed some lotion over his asshole and slipped her thumb inside.
Martin groaned. She worked her thumb around in his ass, delighted at the way he was responding. She had never done this before. She had never played with his asshole like this. He had such a cute little ass, so tight and with all that hair around it. She loved it. She lowered her face to his ass and started kissing it. Martin grunted when he felt her tongue in his ass-crack. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to rim you!"
"Oh Christ!"
"Maybe it'll be better if you get on your knees."
She had to coax him, but in a few moments she had what she wanted. Martin was on his knees with his head and shoulders down on the mattress. She thought his ass looked so sexy. She played with his pendulous balls, tickled them and pulled at the sac. Then she started kissing his ass again, working her mouth up and down his ass-crack from his ball-bag up to the skin around his asshole. She gradually zeroed in on his asshole and then she stayed there. She nibbled at his puckered brownie, closed her lips over it and tickled it with her tongue. A quiver of excitement ran through her as he groaned. She loved turning him on. She wanted to drive him crazy with lust.
Martin swore at her when he felt her tongue sliding inside his ass. But he remained where he was, on his knees with his head down and his legs spread wide. Candice held his balls, twisting the bag as she tongue-fucked his shit-hole. She loved the taste of it the funky taste of his hairy ass. She could feel his balls swelling. She could feel his asshole opening and closing around her thrusting tongue. When he tried to end it, when he told her it was enough and he wanted to fuck her, she refused to abandon his asshole. "No, I'm staying right here. I'm going to jerk myself off while I suck your ass. Just relax and enjoy it!"
Martin groaned. He had a tremendous hard-on. Candice slid her hand from his balls to feel the hardness and length of his cock. His fuckstick. She left off sucking his ass awhile and sucked his balls instead. She frigged her pussy with her fingers. It was nice to suck his balls from below like this, to let his balls hang into her open mouth. There were so many things they hadn't done yet.
He finally couldn't take it anymore. He was too eager to fuck. He threw her off and made her roll over on her back. He mounted her, her legs up on his shoulders and his swollen cock driving to the hilt inside her wet cunt. Candice groaned as she squirmed her ass around. "Fuck me, Martin! Fuck me hard!"
He started pounding her, fucking her deep and hard, the bed shaking, her legs pumping up and down as she matched his rhythm. She was happy now. She knew the secret now. The important thing was to let yourself go, to give it everything you had. She would keep Martin happy and he would keep her happy.
Keep him dry, she thought. She giggled as she pumped her cunt against his thrusting cock. Always keep them dry.