'Anything interesting happen at Mr Forbes? You were late home last night.'

It was unusual for her to be late home and that combined with the splendid breakfast she had served up on this, a weekday; suspicions is not really the right word. Interest. You know, when two unusual events create a ripple in the usual calm of an uneventful life. I have to confess that it wasn't only those two things. I'd noticed a stocking top sticking out of the laundry bin. Why did that trigger an investigation into the bins content? Patricia didn't wear stockings. Rifling through the content of the bin, you could say I struck the motherlode; a black frilly bra, another stocking clipped to a suspender girdle, and a pair of panties that matched the bra and, I could scarcely believe my eyes, the sexy French maids outfit I had bought her (that, disappointingly) she'd never worn for me. I sniffed at the panties. A familiar smell that triggered the final stiffening of an erection that had begun as soon as I had first handled the discarded outfit. Careless of her to leave the evidence like this. But evidence of what?

She was busying herself with loading the dishwasher, replying in an off-hand disinterested manner. 'No, nothing really. He just had a few more chores for me than usual.'

'He takes advantage of your good nature.'

'No, not really, he's a busy man.'

'He doesn't go anywhere,'

'He works from home, gets up early, goes to bed late. Hardly has time for everyday necessities. I don't mind and he's very generous. His wife passed away quite recently and I don't think he has coped very well. I think she did everything for him.'

She spoke quickly and, I thought, defensively.

'I suppose that's why he needed a maid.'

'A maid? She paused in her activity to look at me quizzically,'I'm not a maid, I'm a home help.'

'There's a difference?'

She didn't hold eye with me contact for long, turning back to loading the dishwasher with an unecessary urgency . Couldn't look me in the eyes for long? I thought.

'Will you bring doing any laundry today?' I asked, as casually as I could.

'Yes, I have a few bits I need to run through. Do you want me to put anything of yours in?'

'I could use some undies washing. Are you doing smalls?'

'Yes, just bung them in the laundry bin.'

'OK, I noticed it was full to overflowing. I was surprised to see your maids outfit in there.'

She shut the dishwasher door harder than necessary, clearly rattled. After fiddling with the control settings, she switched it on and turned to face me, a forced smile clamped on her pretty face.

'I thought I'd give it a rinse through before wearing it, I thought I'd been a bit...neglectful of you recently.'

'You've never worn it. Does it need washing?'

'Oh yes, you have to wash new intimate clothes.'

'I thought it looked as if it had been worn. I was surprised to see stockings.'

'Oh yes, I know how you like stockings.'

'One was attached to a girdle, looked worn to me.'

'I tried the outfit on,' she claimed, weakly.

'And the knickers...looked like cum on them...smelt like cum...semen.'

She sat down on a chair at the kitchen table, her expression defeated. Tears welled up and clung poised to drop.

'I'm so sorry,'

Her deep brown eyes appealed...for leniency? For forgiveness?

'I think you better tell me what has been going on at Forbe's house.'