When he finished that one he went anddid the bathroom off Martha's bedroom. While he was doing it henoticed two bottles of perfume on the counter. Cu...iosity led himto spray a little on his wrist. He liked the smell. By the time hefinished he realized it was supper time. He entered the kitchen. Martha immediately noticed the smell ofher perfume and said, "You like the smell of my perfume?" He answered honestly, "Yes, I just sprayed a little shot on mywrist to see what it smelled like." . Her hair was thick and lustrous, tied in a plait that reached her buttocks. Her dusky skin was smooth, clear and soft, the colour and texture of honey.As she watched him with interest, wondering who this stranger was in her home; his eyes devoured her full, high, ripe breasts, heavy, like succulent mangoes.When she spoke to him, Passepartout did not understand and using his hands attempted to convey his reason for entering what he assumed was a shop.The woman correctly guessed he was mistaken;. The rest of the project could be done from his office.Dan went over his plans again. He didn't want to screw up. He had taken a room in an upscale Inn that had a oversized whirlpool tube and a king sized bed. The spy camera and the recorder were set up and checked out. There was a bottle of good Champaign iced down and two more in the room's refrigerator. He had made copies of the pictures of Bitsy's pool party and he knew what he was going to tell her.Dan saw Adrianne's car pull up to the curb. "I'd like that! Any sign of Sylvie?"Arlene was already busying herself over at the bar, fixing the dry martinis that she had been told Tim Cassidy drank. Her legs felt weak as she stood with her back to him, divining that his eyes were matter-of-factly taking in the swelling curves of her buttocks while she stirred the frosty liquid in a tall crystal pitcher."S... Sylvie?" she stammered. She wanted to blurt out the whole truth, to tell this decent dedicated man exactly what his wife had been up.