This is chapter 6, part 14 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.
Chapter 6 – Part 14, Husband Tampering
Our lives returned to our form of normal; María forgave me, work was satisfying, Brett was both a challenge and a joy to us, and María still stayed with me. And the Pol took her two or three times per week. Both María and I were anxious about the Pol – María wanting him to take her, and I was afraid of the same. María had other ups-and-downs with the Pol. He took a new Asian escort, then a new white escort. With each change, he tapered off his time with María for a few weeks, then came back strong to her, still swearing he´d marry her. But even when he tapered, he traded her for votes – she went to the events less often, always to be traded for votes, sometimes even when he attended with another escort. I knew he stalled her, but I couldn’t figure out why.
I took advantage of his delays to fight back, treating her with special kindness and attention. We continued to make love with passion, and I tried everything I could to diminish his sexual impact on her. I used my mouth, my best asset, to drive her into prolonged orgasms, even if she never quite entered the Zone with me. I regained confidence I could beat him.
But I also hedged my confidence by keeping close to Nanny. The nights María stayed with the Pol, I brought Nanny into our bed, the first time I ever brought another woman into María’s bed. That part felt good, like an appropriate revenge. But I also felt hypocritical – María broke our rules constantly and I let it slide from the fear of losing her. It felt good yet I felt guilty.
The Nanny was as confused as I about the Pol’s situation, and what María told her didn’t clarify anything. Nanny saw me slipping away, and she tried harder to please me. I reciprocated and her beauty within the Zone always amazed me. I realized how hard it would be to let Nanny go if María chose to stay with me. Nanny would be hurt, and I felt guilty over that possibility. I also realized my concept of beauty had changed – there are multiple manifestations of beauty. The tyranny of María’s great physical beauty had blinded me to alternative beauty such as possessed by Nanny. Her first sign of beauty was the kindness in her face. The second and definitive measure was her face and body in the convulsions of orgasm. María often jerked and squirmed in orgasm; Nanny undulated sensually – she was extraordinarily beautiful, a beauty that ate at my soul. Puta madre, this is getting complicated.
After a few weeks of this bliss, I became confident enough to ask María about the two extra men on her list from the AIDS scare. They were both tenants at the apartments where she worked. She explained the first had been an infrequent suck, about once a month. He always managed to say the right thing when she came in heat, and she always fell for it. He claimed he could smell her heat, but she thought he counted days. He was always a quickie penis suck – he never got into her vagina.
The second guy had been another mentor for deep-throating. She saw him 1-2 times per week on her lunch break. He had all flavors of edible lubricants, including some that numbed the back of the mouth. He was larger than Drew, but smaller than me. The numbing gels were slippery and worked the best, but afterward, she had trouble talking, swallowing, and felt short of breath. He never ejaculated in her mouth, and he wanted his ‘payment’ in her vagina, which she declined. His second choice was to ejaculate on her breasts. So she removed her top and bra, sucked him to the critical point, and he pumped his penis, shooting on her nipples. He spread his semen over her breasts with his fingers, redressed her, and she spent the afternoon in the office, sticky, with the smell of his semen in her nose – it was part of the deal. María laughed thinking about it, and unconsciously tugged at her bra. She said he was a nice older man, if kinky, and his throating grew on her.
This gave me my lead to ask,
“What did the Pol do when you were unable to deep-throat with him?”
“He never mentioned it to me again until I asked. He throated with the white escort, a much bigger woman than me. He said the idea was more exciting than the reality, and his Ride was much better. That was it.”
I didn’t have the courage to ask her if she still saw those two, so I asked her if she still fucked her boss. “Of course, that’s part of the job, that’s work, not sex.” I asked if the other girls in the office fucked him, but she didn’t know. She assumed they were, wasn’t that part of the job?
* * * * * * * * * *
The gallops began to predominate in her dates with the Pol, and they came more frequently. The Pol had an apartment in San Francisco, a condo in the Berkeley Hills, and an apartment in Sacramento. The gallop days were sometimes in luxury hotels, sometimes in his apartments.
Whenever I was home from work while she prepared for her trysts with the Pol, I continued to dress her, and it evolved into a seriously erotic game of torment. I photographed her extensively as I dressed her, while she teased my bursting erections. She stroked my penis with her fingertips and lightly kissed the crown, but nothing more until we finished. If she was pleased with her finished look, she would pump me to fierce ejaculations.
Even the hair and make-up sessions became an erotic ritual for us. María told me the parlor girls watched me when they applied her lip-gloss – they said I glossed-over like in a trance and I would lick my lips and open my mouth like I sucked a penis head. María had seen it herself, but she didn’t warn me. She was proud to show off I was a slave to her. Válgame dios. I adored that woman! I continued watching her makeup sessions, but I stood Brett on my lap and hid behind him whenever the lip-gloss came out.
I had ulterior motives for dressing her – I was determined to fuck her just before the limousine came for her. I hoped the Pol would detect husband-tampering, get angry and dump her.
I slowed the dress-up process. We started earlier and tried-on multiple outfits. Her bare vulva, hairdo, and makeup were sacred, so I caressed and massaged and kissed the rest of her body as I dressed her. She’d let me caress and kiss her vulva only after her panty was on. Kissing her inner thighs between the hosiery tops and the panty caused her tickly convulsions, and she’d beg my to stop while clamping my head there. When she reached her incoherent pre-orgasmic state, I’d knead her panty over her labia with my lips, and she’d climax, squeezing and riding my head between her thighs.
* * * * * * * * * *
I decided to learn both makeup and hair styling and took a few week-end and night courses. I was good at the first and awful at the second. María was infinitely patient as my make-up dummy, until she finally had to admit I was better than she, as good as the parlors. I often practiced on Terri, Nanny, and other friends of María. It was sensual art, and I didn’t hide my erections. I could have seduced a lot of women if I did it commercially. On the occasions when neither María nor Satyr were in the house, I’d make-up Nanny, heating her to boiling, then she’d aggressively fuck me. She was delicious, and María still didn’t know.
I never learned how to style hair, but I did learn how to care for women’s hair, to keep it healthy and shiny with special shampoos, conditioners and cremes. I developed a severe fetish for handling women’s hair, brushing and combing and stroking it with my hands. It was magical stuff, especially María’s wavy hair. I brushed and stroked her every night she slept with me. It soothed me.
The Pol scheduled Maria for a costume event and she asked me to do her makeup for that night. I remembered the body paint from Maria’s salsa dancing days, and went shopping. Using the masques from the Mistress Shop as inspiration, I created an eyes-only makeup masque that eroticized Maria’s beautiful eyes – each eye was positioned as the vagina in a stylized vulva stretching diagonally upwards over her temples. Maria exclaimed afterward she had never received as much attention as that night, both men and women subtly propositioned her the entire event, and the Pol had a hard time keeping his penis off her face and out of her mouth.
How strange – I was pleased and proud I had increased her pleasure, even though it was through another man. And I also felt good about increasing his pleasure as well. I should have been angry or jealous – I was disturbed and proud and … twisted with the pain and humiliation of the bastard deeply exploiting the intimacy of Maria. I didn’t know how I should think and feel about this. Should I rejoice she finds greater pleasure with a superior lover? A lover that might steal her from me?
* * * * * * * * * *
On our next shopping trip to the Mistress Shop, we discovered a new line of open-crotch panties, open only at the vulva. María asked for several additional panties. The manager was reluctant, but the Pol was a lucrative customer, and she knew María was his favorite.
At the next dress-up session, I slipped-on one of these open-crotch panties, heated her to incoherence, kissed her clitoris directly to orgasm, then fingered her as she convulsed. I don’t think she even noticed my fingers inside her. I delivered her to the limo with those same panties. I was exhilarated by touching another man’s mistress in her forbidden parts. I heated her to a rolling boil before the Pol ever got her. Waiting for the limo, she stood at the door trembling with anticipation, clutching a wad of tissues to control her wetness. I closed my eyes, envisioning her assaulting him, sucking and fucking the life out of him. He never once thanked me for this warm-up. Even worse, he ungraciously asked her if her husband tampered with her. This became our regular routine.
I’d try to be home when María came home the days following. I’d wait outside in my car until the limo took the Pol away. Her hair would be down, makeup minimal, still smelling as fresh as when she left. Before she went to bed, I’d ask her, “Anything special you want to tell me?” I’d get in the bed with her, crawl between her legs, embed myself into her if she was agreeable, and hold her until she slept, generally a few minutes. I didn’t stroke into her or ejaculate; I’d give her one deep kiss where his penis had just discharged, and I’d soak in his prowess through the walls of her vagina. I never asked her for details, but often she volunteered about special things, or spilled everything when she was happy. Then I’d get up, dress, and go back to work.
* * * * * * * * * *
María was still terrified the Pol would discover Brett before he announced their engagement, so she carefully planned the arrivals of the limo at our house. She coordinated the arrivals and the presence of Brett, Nanny, Satyr, and I with cell phone calls and messages. For months, I never had an opening to accidentally show Brett to the limo driver or the Pol – it was too risky.
María attended a Saturday event, returning to the house Sunday afternoon. As she left Saturday, she said their return would probably be at 3:00 PM but could be at 1:00, depending on a meeting the Pol might have. She would call if she came earlier so we could clear out of the house.
“A 50%-50% chance,” I thought and decided to risk it. On Sunday around 10:30 AM, I grabbed the Nanny, Zoned her throughly, then re-programmed her phone while she showered. I left for the beach at Half Moon Bay. Starting around noon, I received several increasingly urgent text messages from María warning of an early arrival and asking confirmation of leaving the house. I ignored them as I did her voice calls close to 1:00 PM. I stayed at the beach, swimming and drinking Boone’s Farm coolers until 4:00 PM. When I called for the all-clear, Nanny answered, said María and the Pol came in to find her and Brett preparing to leave the house. María was frantic, had cried for two hours and finally went to sleep.
I rushed home, and waited. Nanny explained they arrived at our house right after 1:00, and she was still there with Brett. The appearance of the strange black man frightened Brett, and he cried. María lied, said Brett was the son of the Nanny, and apologized that they were in the house. However, Brett cried, “Mama, mama”, and ran to embrace María. María confessed and the Pol left the house immediately.
I reset Nanny’s phone while she took care of Brett. María awoke crying in the evening, and I took my opportunity to sooth and comfort her. She accused us crazily of betraying her, of not answering the phone deliberately. She started with Nanny, but Nanny swore her phone didn’t ring, and Satyr backed her up. Then she turned to me,
“Why didn’t you answer your messages and calls, you knew I might come early?”
“I went to the beach at 11:30 to clear out of the house. I left the phone in the car since I was swimming and sunning. I had no idea anything was wrong until I returned to the car at 4:00 PM. It was too late to do anything by then. I would never do anything to interfere with your lovers, you know that.”
I examined the Nanny’s phone. I called it from my phone and it rang normally. I said it had to be a failure of the cell phone carrier, not unusual in those first years of analog phones.
María was terrified she’d never see the Pol again, she returned to bed, stayed there, and cried most of the night. She let me hug her, nothing else. In the morning, María called the Pol’s secretary who confirmed their next date was still scheduled for three days later.
When the day arrived, we took extra care to dress her seductively for that date, a gallop. We got up early and I body painted her before heading to work. I didn’t tamper with her.
End of book content.
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