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.

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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.