Ron Taylor: First Time In The Behind

"Goddamn it to hell!" Nicole Patterson cried, pounding her fist on the desk top. She picked up the glossy black and white photos and started ripping them to pieces.

"You knew, going into it, that it might come to something like this,"

Bill Archer said. "If you hadn't been suspicious, you'd never have hired me in the first place."

"I know," Nicole said, dropping the torn pictures. She stared at the VCR. The urge was strong within her to yank the tape out of the machine and stomp it with her heels. "It's not you, and it's not the pictures.

I'm just fantasizing that I'm doing this to Roger. The son of a bitch!"

She couldn't believe that she was actually in a detective's office, that she had just seen photograph and videotape evidence her husband was cheating on her. She couldn't believe she had hired the detective to get the evidence in the first place. She'd been positive, in the back of her mind, that there was some other explanation for Roger's behavior. Even if she couldn't imagine what it might be. Even if she had, honestly, always supposed that he was fucking someone else.

"Who is she?" Nicole asked. "Who is the slut?"

"Her name is Becky O'Hara," the detective said, taking a folder from his desk. "This is the profile. She works in a law office. They handle some of the business relating to your father's estate, and I suppose that's how Mr. Patterson first met her. Apparently they've been meeting, mostly at her apartment, sometimes at other places, for about six months."

Nicole picked up one of the torn photos. The tramp was attractive enough, she supposed, though it was hard to tell. In the picture she had a mouthful of Roger's cock and she was sucking it with firm concentration, her eyes closed, her lips stretched by the thick hard prick that was shoved between them.

The video had been even worse. Nicole's detective had gotten into Becky O'Hara's apartment and set up a camera. The result had been a half-hour tape starring Nicole's husband and his red-headed slut.

Nicole's eyes filled with tears. She felt betrayed and insulted.

"He's not getting away with it, you know," she said, fumbling for a tissue. "The money's mine. I just hope he and his red-haired tart can get by on what she makes as a law office receptionist. You do have duplicates of these?"

She indicated the torn photos.

He nodded. "That's the normal reaction. Most women tear up the pictures. I can have more when you need them."

She wiped her eyes and dropped the tissue into the wastebasket, then stood up.

"It's not just the cheating," she said. "Don't you realize how this makes me feel? For Christ's sake, am I such a goddamn dog that he'd have to go looking for another woman?"

Bill Archer shook his head.

"No," he said, "you are definitely not a dog, Mrs. Patterson."

"Call me Nicole," she said. "And do you have any booze? Detectives always keep a bottle in the desk, don't they? Jesus, I need a drink!"

There was an old-fashioned leather couch in front of a big window.

Nicole leaned back, holding up her plastic cup. Bill Archer poured some booze into it. He freshened his own drink and looked at her as he sipped.

"Are you staring at me?" she asked, giggling slightly. It was much too early in the day to be drinking, and the whiskey had gone straight to her head. On the other hand, it felt pretty damn good to be giddy and carefree, after what she'd just been through.

He grinned.

"Yeah, I'm staring," he said. "You're worth staring at, Nicole." He put down his glass. "I can't imagine where in the hell your husband's mind is. A man that would cheat on you probably doesn't deserve to have a cock."

She put down her own glass, tilting her head as she stared back at him.

"Normally," Bill said, "I almost hope that my investigations don't turn up anything incriminating. When you came in and asked me to check out your husband, I found myself praying I'd catch the fucker with his pants down."

Bill Archer put his hand on Nicole's knee, just below the hem of her short skirt. She felt the warmth of him flow into her flesh.

"Age you trying to build up my self-confidence?" she asked slowly. Her eyes moved up and down his body. She saw the shape of a hard cock at his crotch, protruding a good eight inches down his left leg.

He guided her hand onto his cock.

"You're serious," she whispered.

He nodded.

"I hope you're in good shape," Nicole said, squeezing hard at his cockbulge. "I may be more than you can handle."

She stood up, breathing hard. The taste of the whiskey was in her throat, but that wasn't why she felt so heated up.

She had led a sheltered life, with a strict and protective father.

She'd only had a couple of men before Roger, and she had stayed a virgin till she was twenty-one.

But she'd come to love sex and the lack of it had been driving her crazy. Masturbation couldn't kill the fires that smoldered inside her, but she'd never have dreamed of cheating on her husband.

Bill watched, idly caressing the erected length of his cock, as Nicole undressed. She made a production of it, taking off her skirt first and showing her long, slim legs, the stockings and garters, the skimpy lace of her string panties. Turning, she undid her blouse, then turned toward him, exposing her tits in their flimsy silk bra.

She came toward him, a little wobbly from the drinks, and she let his hands discover her body.

He really wasn't bad-looking, she decided, thrusting her tits into his hands. With her heels on, she was an inch or so taller than he, but Bill appeared to be in pretty good shape, and he wore his body well.

She eased the jacket off his shoulders while he was undoing her bra. It came loose, and her tits spilled out. "Jesus!" he gasped.

She knew she had better tits than the skinny bitch Roger was fucking.

She thought she was prettier. Of course, Becky had an ass that looked fantastic on her skinny frame, and Nicole couldn't quite compare in that department. And the tape proved that she had no qualms about sharing her ass with Nicole's husband.

Nicole had watched in shock as Roger guided his hard cock into Becky's ass and fucked her wildly up the shitter. It was something he'd suggested to Nicole, but she'd never been in the mood to try it.

Bill Archer took her mind off her problems quickly. As soon as her tits were bare, he started to suck them. He sucked voraciously, slobbering while he fed the big soft tits in and out of his mouth.

Nicole swayed while Bill mouthed her tits. She stroked his head, urging him to get nastier. She guided his hand down into her crotch and showed him what she meant.

His fingers slipped inside her skimpy panties and she purred as he touched her pussy-crack. It was wet and slippery, her clit erect and yearning. His fingers were a little rough, but Nicole didn't mind a bit. She squeezed her thighs together on his hand and rocked back and forth, masturbating herself on his eager, excited fingers.

"Yes," she said. "Oh yes, yesssss!"

He speared a finger into her cunt and she gasped aloud. She'd almost forgotten what the touch of a strange hand felt like on her cunt. He added another finger to the stirring, and he worked them in and out of Nicole, making her cunt drool.

Bill pulled down her panties, and she wiggled her feet out of them. He leaned back, looking up at her with eyes full of lust and admiration.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he said. "A man would have to be crazy…"

He stood up, and she let her hands move up and down his body. She opened his shirt, leaning in to bury her lips in the hairs on his chest. She'd never really cared for a hairy chest before, but it was totally exciting now, nuzzling him, tasting the flavor of his flesh, the sweat that was oozing from his pores.