Was my wife having an affair? I decided that I would go down to her office and see if I could find out anything. I parked in an inconspicuous spot, aw...ay from the main flow of traffic and watched her building. Just after lunch, she came out with two men and another woman. They stopped and were chatting, then turned and headed for the parking lot.I watched them get into a large luxurious car and leave. I waited until I figured they were out of the parking lot and followed them. I did not. Spice there was aplenty in all that he tasted and inhaled, but shame was present too. 'Who?' he asked meekly. I smiled. 'His name is Marcus...he's a handsome black guy from work'. Peter nodded. The haunted look in his eyes was already there. The look that said that he needed to get back to licking me until his head was totally filled with the stuff. Marcus had promised that it was this powerful. He warned that I had to have nerves of steel to manage Peter as we required. The addiction was very. "Thanks Tom. I suppose I should ask you if you're still OK with all this." I'm fine, thanks Ray. But there is something I have been meaning to ask you."He looked expectantly at me."Did you know about Brighton?" Didn't you?" No, I had no idea. I only found out last Saturday." There's no point in letting it upset you, Tom. It was four years ago after all." I'm not upset about it... I just wondered if you knew, that's all." Fran told me after about a month or so. It was her idea by the way. She. What girl wouldn’t find it exciting to be taken, to be used, sexually? She practically dragged the cardigan from her shoulders, only to be stopped her in her tracks by the clipped accent. ‘Work it,’ he snapped, barking out the words, ‘The Sheik wants sexy.’ Of course he did. How stupid. In her haste to react to the painted images in her mind, she wasn’t thinking clearly. This always happened when she got too excited. She was getting ahead of herself. Virtually teasing the cardigan off her.