It was a relief to get off the grimy grey streets. I'd been pounding the baking asphalt for hours, wearing the already paper thin soles of my five dollar shoes into a fine mist. Now I was sat in the reception room of my latest client, a Major Benson, waiting for him to finish pounding whichever floozy he had bent over his office desk.
He certainly had plenty of get up and go for an old guy, I put him at around sixty three but sometimes it was hard to tell with those brash army types. Anyway, he'd certainly got it up and he was going alright. I could make out the pair of them, blurred silhouettes through the frosted glass in his office door.
He'd hired me to tail his wife. He knew she slept around and for the most part with his blessing. But there was one guy he didn't like her playing hide the sausage with and that guy was Monkey Johnson. She swore blue that she wasn't involved with him, but her old man thought he knew better and supplied me with enough green to make it worth my while photographing the pair of them going at it through a handy bedroom window.
Well, that was the plan. So far I'd come up short and the old man was losing patience.
The sounds of hot sex next door were getting to me and I was starting to heat up in the trouser department. I adjusted my pants and allowed myself a few sly strokes of my little man courtesy of my trouser pocket.
The broad was certainly getting her rocks off. I could hear her panting and moaning as the old man slammed into her from behind. Her voice sounded strangely familiar to me and I wondered who it could be, I hadn't seen a secretary around here before.
Just then the old man cried out and I saw his shadow stop moving as he emptied his balls into the mystery woman.
I concentrated hard on getting the steel out of my pole before it got embarrassing – something I'd learned to do in Sunday school out of absolute necessity many years ago. When you have a hot teacher who likes to bend down and pick up her chalk a lot, it adds new terrors to the thought of being called up to the front of the class.
Then the office door opened and my whole world turned upside down.
My wife walked out smiling contemptuously and my jaw hit the floor. She was still rearranging her blouse, doing up the last few buttons to hide those big mams that had just had an extra marital mauling.
"Hello Chuck," she drawled, still giving me that nasty smile.
She stood with her hands on her hips for a moment before she was moved on by a swift slap to her big round ass.
"Get on Loretta," the old man chuckled as he reacquainted his hand with her backside - but this time he didn't slap her, instead giving her a playful squeeze before she left by the out door.
I guessed that this wasn't their first time.
My attention turned back to the old man who was still chuckling and looking pointedly at the crotch of my pants. I looked down and saw that for the first time in years I'd failed to run down the flag, I was loaded and on a hair trigger.
"I've always been able to read a man," laughed the Major. "It's been quite an advantage over the years, both in business and in my years of service to Uncle Sam."
I must have looked puzzled because the old man went on to give me a very frank explanation.
"I knew from the moment I saw you that you were the type to get off watching another man fuck your wife. Next time I'll give you a ringside seat, now to business," growled the Major indicating towards his office with a nod of his grey head.
I guessed the pleasantries were over so I walked in and sat down, my detective's eyes picking out the small puddle of semen on the carpet by the desk, my husband's nose picking out my wife's perfume amongst the strong smells of sex that filled the room.
The Major sat on his desk, still warm from the recent fucking of my wife. I idly wondered if she'd left the imprints of those big tits of hers in the green leather of his desk top.
"Got the photos?" the old man snapped me out of it.
I was startled slightly by the flare of a match as he lit a large Cuban.
"Not yet," I replied.
"Tonight," he chewed around the cigar. "I know they're meeting. I've had a tip off."
He blew a long stream of smoke towards me and his eyes flicked towards the office door. I knew then that my wife had done more than just beg him to go deeper. Did he want me to know? I wasn't sure yet, but I guessed it was only a matter of time before I'd find out.
I nodded.
"Rolled by the thighs of virgins...or so they say," he mused as he held the lit cigar between his fingertips. "I don't suppose your wife has rolled a cigar for a very long time," he laughed as he looked at me.
I looked away and said nothing. I got the feeling he could see the movies inside my head and was watching the one of him taking my wife in our marriage bed, his fat white ass rising and falling between her wide open thighs.
"Here's the address," he said as handed me a folded piece of paper.
I scanned the address and slipped the note into my pocket.
"Be there at eight O'clock. It's your last chance."
