Not So Sexy Wanda

I'd been forming this picture in my mind of Wanda with big tits and wearing little shorts that showed her ass cheeks, but that wasn't working very well. Gracie probably looked something like Wanda, but the way Wanda had described her was about as far from Wanda as you could get. I shook that vision out of my head and then started to do what I always do. I asked Wanda a bunch of my standard questions and wrote notes about what she told me.

"Your sister's name is Gracie?"

"Well, it's really just Grace, but I've called her Gracie since she was a baby."

"What's Gracie's last name?"

"Richardson. That was from the third time she was married, and that's another reason I think she's trying to steal Gerald from me. She got divorced all three times because she was...well, the first time, there was this guy she worked with and her husband caught them together. They were in bed and...well, you can imagine what they were doing. The second time, she got caught again, this time in a tent out by the lake. Her last husband, Ricky, came home sick from work one day and found her in the back yard with their neighbor. They didn't even have a fence around their yard so any of their neighbors could have seen them. It was just nasty, that's what it was."

I was getting a pretty nice picture in my head now. Gracie might look like Wanda, at least a little, but it sounded like she'd fuck anything with a cock. If that was the case, she might be fucking Wanda's boyfriend. I'd seen it before, not with sisters, but with two women who were good friends. The one with the boyfriend thought she had him wrapped around her little finger until she caught her friend with her pussy wrapped around the boyfriend's cock.

I asked Wanda for Gracie's and Gerald's addresses and where each one worked, and when she gave them to me, she also gave me a picture of her and Gerald.

Gerald wasn't exactly a man's man, if you know what I mean. His shirt was buttoned all the way up to his neck, and he looked skinny as a rail. I couldn't figure out what Wanda saw in him. I mean, Wanda was no prize, but she looked good enough she could have at least found a guy who looked like he had a set of balls.

"I'll be happy to check this out for you, Wanda. My fee is three hundred a day with two days in advance."

Wanda fumbled in her big purse for a couple of minutes, then pulled out one of those envelopes they give you at the bank when you withdraw cash.

"The detective at the police station told me how much you charge, but he said if anybody can find out for sure, it would be you. I went to the bank this morning and took out six hundred dollars."

I stuck the envelope in my desk drawer and then told her I'd start tomorrow morning and I'd call her as soon as I knew anything. Wanda stood up then, stuck out her hand, and thanked me. Her handshake fit her. It was like shaking a limp dishrag. When she walked out the door, I watched her ass to see if it moved or not. It did, but her pants were so big I couldn't tell if it was up and down or side to side.

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My pizza was cold by then, so I punched the button on the microwave that said "PIZZA" and then added a little scotch to my jelly jar. There wasn't shit on TV that I wanted to watch, so after I ate, I poured myself another double, lit a cigarette, and got out my city map to see where Gracie and Gerald lived.

Yeah, I could have turned on my laptop and typed the address into the map program, but it was quicker to just look at the map. On the map I don't have to keep clicking the fucking little circle with the plus sign to get down close enough to read the street names and then click the little circle with the minus sign to see where the hell I am. The street names are already there on a map. I do have to count the blocks from Main or State, but that's OK. If I blow up the map on the computer screen, I can't see what route I'll have to take to get from one place to the other. On my paper map, I can.

It looked like I was going to have to drive all over hell's half acre. Gracie lived on the west side of town in what they call the "Historic District". What that means is the houses were built over a hundred years ago and you can't do anything to fix them that doesn't keep them looking like that. It costs a lot of cash to buy a house there and it costs a ton in upkeep.

It costs so much because you can't just go to Home Depot and buy new shingles or siding. You have to call a fucking contractor who can either buy or make that stuff and then pay him to do the work so it stays authentic. I figured Gracie must have come out of her three divorces with pretty good settlements even though she'd caused all three.

Gerald lived on the east side of town in one of the developments constructed right after WWII. Contractors knew the GI's came home with a bunch of back pay, and were looking to start families, so they built houses that were cheap enough the GI's could afford the down payment.

The houses there are all the same floor plan -- living room, kitchen, two bedrooms, and one bath. The roof changes on them - some have porches, and some have the rooms reversed so they look different - but basically, each one is the same house. They're not cheap to buy anymore, but they're affordable to most people who work in the Nashville factories. Many are owned by older couples who sold their big house when their kids moved away and bought something smaller and easier to maintain.

At least the places where Gracie and Gerald worked were both on the north side. Gerald worked in a factory that made automotive parts and Gracie worked about a mile from there in a bank.

I'd intended to get up early, like maybe eight, and drive over to both Gerald's and Gracie's houses to confirm the addresses, but two double scotches are the best sleeping pills you can buy. They're also a hell of a lot more fun. I woke up about ten, took a whiz, decided not to shave, and then got dressed. On the way to Gerald's, I stopped by a burger place for breakfast. Why the hell a burger place serves bacon and egg burritos is beyond me, but they do.

Anyway, I found Gerald's house, a little brown bungalow like I thought it would be. It had a one-car garage in the back with just enough room between Gerald's house and the one next door for a car to make it to the garage. I couldn't see any place where I could park and watch Gerald's house far enough away he wouldn't see me watching. The houses were too close together and there were cars parked on the street on both sides. When those houses were built, most families had only one car. Now, most have two so there's no place to park the second and still let the other one get out except in front of the house.

Gracie's house wasn't as big as I thought it would be given the area, but it looked like it belonged there. It had that style of the early 1900's with all the gingerbread trim and shake shingles on the roof. There was cedar fence on both sides so I couldn't see any more than the front and sides of the house. When I drove down the alley I saw the fence closed off the back yard except for the carriage house that had been converted to a garage.

I didn't bother to drive by the factory where Gerald worked. Wanda had told me he drove what she called a "teal" Honda Civic, but even if I'd spotted it in the lot, I'd still have to come back at shift change if I wanted to follow him. I didn't know what fucking color "teal" was anyway. Maybe I'm just weird, but I know red, blue, green, purple, yellow, orange, gray, black and white, oh, and brown, silver and gold. Women seem to have about a thousand different names for colors, you know, like "teal", "puce", "ecru", and "mauve".

I can see different shades of colors, but to me they're reddish-purple, light gray and... well I don't know what color fucking mauve is. It sounds more like something you'd hear in a gangster movie, like "You motherfucker, I'm gonna mauve your fucking ass".

I did drive by Gracie's bank, then parked in the lot and went inside. That was a little risky because if she saw me and then saw me again watching her, she'd stop doing what she normally did. The risk was pretty low, though, because I didn't plan on her seeing me again. All I planned to do was find out if she and Gerald were getting down to the nitty-gritty someplace, take a few pictures if they were, and then tell Wanda one way or the other.

Gracie wasn't a teller like I'd thought. She had her name on one of the doors, and below that name was her title -- Loan Manager. That probably explained how she could afford her house. I could see her sitting at her desk, and Wanda was right about Gracie needing a bra. There are women with big tits, and then there are women with big tits. Gracie looked like she'd fall over on her face if she didn't stand up straight with her shoulders back. She couldn't get close enough to the desk to do anything unless she perched those big jugs on the desktop. Gracie really didn't look much like Wanda, but I guess Gracie had different face genes just like she had big tit genes.

I walked up to the table with the deposit slips and reached into my hip pocket, then frowned and walked back out. I'd seen Gracie and I didn't want to wait around until she saw me.

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Back in my office I started thinking about where Gracie and Gerald might go if they were doing anything. It probably wouldn't be Gerald's house. The houses there were too close, and like I said, a lot of the houses in these older developments are owned by older couples. They're mostly retired so they have all day to watch their neighbors and they always do.

No, it was more likely they'd go to a motel or to Gracie's house. A motel was a definite possibility, especially if it was one of the cheaper places. Those places don't ask a lot of questions and if you pay cash, they don't usually bother with asking you to sign anything. Gracie didn't fit very well into that theory though. If her house was any indication, Gracie liked nice things. I didn't think she'd like shacking up in a cheap motel.

That left her house unless she was the outdoors type. Since she'd been caught fucking a guy in a tent, that was also a possibility, but Wanda hadn't said anything about Gracie liking to camp. I figured the best bet was Gracie's house.

I also figured since Gracie had a fence all around her property, she might spend some time with Gerald out there. The sign on the bank said it closed at five. I figured it would take Gracie maybe half an hour to get home, and then another half an hour for her to change clothes. That would also give Gerald time to get from work to her house if that's what he was going to do. At a little after five, I drove back to Gracie's place and started looking for a place where I could see into her back yard.

After driving around the block and up a low hill, I found a parking place on the street behind hers that would let me look through the trees and into her back yard. I wouldn't be able to park there for very long. People who live in that part of town tend to be suspicious of anyone doing that and they'd have called the cops, but I figured if I got the timing right, I'd get a few pictures of Gracie doing whatever she did out there if she did come out.

At a quarter to six, a white Focus drove down the alley. Gracie got out, opened the carriage house door, and then drove inside. She closed the door from the inside, and a little later I saw her carry a grocery sack through her back door. I also saw that her big tits weren't the only thing that had filled out pretty nicely. Her ass was wide enough to have that soft sway when she walked. Her waist was maybe a little thicker than a younger woman's would be, but it wouldn't have been enough to make me kick her ass out of bed.

Half an hour later, she came back out of her house with a cooler in one hand and a guy wearing shorts and sandals in the other. I put down the binoculars and snapped a couple of pictures, then kept watching through the camera viewfinder to see what they did next.

It didn't take long to find out. Gracie sat the cooler on one of the chairs, opened it and pulled out two beers. I thought her tits would probably fall out of the bikini top she was wearing when she did that, but they stayed in place. Well, they didn't exactly stay in place. They sort of slipped up higher on her chest when she bent over, and then flowed out around the little triangle of material that covered her nipples.

When she stood back up and sat the beers on the table, she grinned at the guy, untied the string around her neck, and let the bikini top fall down. Her big tits fell down too and rolled around a little until the guy caught both of them in his hands. He gave them a squeeze and then thumbed Gracie's nipples.

She grinned at him again, and then untied the strings that held the bikini bottom on. It got caught between her thighs when it fell down, but still showed me the brown bush she'd trimmed into a heart. Gracie opened her legs a little to let the bottom fall off, and the guy took advantage of that by cupping her pussy. I snapped a picture of them like that and then stuck my hand down my jeans to rearrange my cock. My cock refuses to remain professional in situations like this.

Well, everything went about like I expected it would. Gracie did surprise me by leading the guy to the chaise lounge and motioning for him to lay down. When he did she stripped off his shorts and then sat down on his legs. She had her back to me, but I didn't need to see her from the front to know the guy had grabbed her tits. I didn't need to see her hand on his cock either. The up and down motion of her arm was enough. I kept taking pictures and watching until she raised up, grabbed his stiff cock and moved forward until she had it where she wanted it. I snapped a picture of that just before she started bending her knees to get his cock in her pussy.

I took a couple more pictures after that, but then closed up shop and left. The rest was going to be like when you go to a movie. About five minutes before the end of the movie, the good guy has shot the shit out of all the bad guys and picked up the half-naked girl and carried her to safety. The next shot is her mostly-exposed tits heaving while she starts telling him how grateful she is.

You know what's going to happen right after she plants a lip-lock on him. They're going to fuck like rabbits. You aren't going to see that, but you know that's what's going to happen so you might as well leave and beat the goddamned crowd to the parking lot.

When I got back home, I downloaded all the pictures to my laptop and then had a look at them. My camera lens is a good lens, but looking through the viewfinder is like watching a TV screen from fifty feet away. No, I didn't just want a better look at Gracie's tits, ass, and bush. Well, that was a lot of fun, but mostly I wanted a good look at the guy. He was about the right height and weight, but I hadn't gotten a good look at his face. When he popped up on the screen, I still couldn't tell if it was Gerald or not.

There's a funny thing about women who think their guy is cheating. They want me to find out, but in their hearts, they don't want to believe it. Unless they see a picture where there's no question it's him with his cock stuck in another woman's pussy or mouth, they'll tell me it's not him and I made a mistake. Sometimes they'll also say they're not going to pay me if I've spent more than that first two days they paid in advance. I'd have to go back and get better pictures of the guy.

That's what I did the next day and the day after that, but I came up empty both days. Either Gracie had gotten her libido under control or something else was keeping her from riding the guy's cock. Given how fast she stripped and then stripped him that afternoon, I figured her libido was doing fine and it was something else. There was only one thing I could think of that would do that, so I called Wanda and told her I had something else I had to do the rest of the week so I wouldn't charge her until I started again on Saturday.

Gracie wouldn't work on Saturday. Fucking banks are never open on Saturday or Sunday. They somehow are still able to immediately debit your account for anything you use your debit card for on Saturday and Sunday, but if you deposit a check on Friday morning, they don't credit your account until after they close on Monday. Odd how that happens, isn't it? It's almost like they planned it that way so they can charge you interest if you go over your balance.

Anyway, I knew she wouldn't be working on Saturday so I drove over to my special parking spot about ten. I waited about an hour before she came out of her back door, but she was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt this time and she was alone. The T-shirt was the right size for her shoulders, but it was having trouble getting around her big tits. It had pulled up enough her belly showed under the tail.

A couple minutes later, her garage door opened and she backed out. She was evidently going somewhere, so I decided I'd go see if Gerald was home. It was possible she might be going there.

When I parked two houses down from Gerald's, there was a blue Honda Civic sitting on the two narrow strips of concrete that serve as a driveway for most of these houses. I guess it was what Wanda had called teal. To me, it looked like blue with a little green in it. Evidently Gerald was home.

I hung around for a while to see if Gracie showed up or if he was going to go meet Gracie somewhere, but after two hours, he hadn't so much as stuck his head out the door. I was getting ready to leave when a black Mustang pulled into Gerald's drive. The guy who got out was...well, you've seen the razor trimmed hair that's all spiky looking, really, really tight jeans and the shirt that looks like it was painted on top of muscles like you see on a body builder. Yeah, that's what I mean.

The guy walked up to Gerald's door and knocked once. Gerald's door opened, and he grinned. Mr. Muscles grinned too and after he opened the door, put his arm around Gerald. I did take a picture of them kissing, but then I'd had enough. I don't judge anybody, like I said before, but there are some things I just find it really hard to watch and two men kissing ranks right up there at the top of my list. I wasn't going to get anything more anyway because they went inside after that.

I really didn't have to go back to Gracie's after that, but I decided I would if only to prove to Wanda that Gracie didn't have any intentions about Gerald. I was going to burst Wanda's bubble, but maybe I could patch things up between her and her sister in the process. I'm a nice guy like that...not often, but sometimes. Besides, I felt sorry for Wanda. I was going to tell her Gerald liked the muscle guy more than he liked her and that was going to hurt.

Evidently I was right about Gracie. When I got there, parked, and got out my camera, she and the same guy were outside. She wasn't riding his cock. She was laying in the chaise lounge reading a magazine and he was sitting in one of the chairs sucking down a beer.

Gracie had on the same bikini, and just like before it was doing a piss poor job of holding up her big tits. The bottoms had pulled up tight against her pussy as well, and through my binoculars I could see the cameltoe it made.

They weren't doing anything, but the guy sure was thinking about it. He'd tip up the beer, then wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and look at Gracie. He'd make this stupid grin for a while, and then rub his crotch. Finally he said something.

Gracie put down her magazine, untied the strings that held on her bikini bottom and then lay back down. The guy hopped out of his chair and knelt down at the foot of the chaise lounge, grabbed the front of the bikini bottom and pulled. Gracie lifted her ass until he had it past her thighs, then spread her legs.