Deirdre's Downfall

Please remember to vote and send feedback. This series has a long story line, so if you want to catch up, check out a few earlier chapters...especially Chapter 9. Many thanks.

"Are you happy with our little office family here, Dee?" my boss, Dr. Neil McCarthy, asked me.

"Absolutely, Dr. Neil," I said. "Can't imagine doing anything else. In fact, I'd like to stay 'til I retire, just like Mandy's doing." It'd always been easy to talk with Dr. Neil, but today I was very nervous, expecting him to discipline me severely for my having taken a handful of painkilling drugs from the pharmaceutical cabinet.

Dr. Neil, as we called him, was the son, also a dentist, of Dr. Sean McCarthy - now retired - who had opened the office over thirty years ago. I now managed the dental practice that Dr. Neil had inherited as a junior partner.

"How long have you been with us?" he asked.

"Seven years," I said, at the same time that he blurted out the answer to his own question. He snickered and blushed, indicating his own agitation, which I'd seldom seen in Dr. Neil. Our relationship had always been garnished with humor - partly to overcome his shyness, I think - so this Saturday morning's awkward atmosphere was not only unusual, but especially difficult for the both of us. He'd summoned me to the office today to talk about the missing drugs, among other things. "Remember, you hired me when you were right out of dental school!" I reminded him. Dr. Neil was five years my senior, about 37.

"Uuuh, right," he said, quietly. "Mandy tells me you're going through some terribly rough times right now," he said. "She told me about your awful attack...your r-r-rape," he stuttered slightly, a dead giveaway that he was very bothered, "and how you've dealt with the shock by using Percodan," he continued. He seemed completely unable to look me in the eye as he spoke. Mandy had said that he'd been extremely angry and shattered by the news of my assault two weeks previously.

"I've...I've also decided to get a divorce, Dr. Neil," I said, probably telling him more than I should at this juncture. "It's just that...Frank and I are so cruel to each other. It's just not working anymore. I'm hoping it'll be amicable, but...I just don't know." I spared him the prurient details.

"God! That's an awful lot of stress for you all at once, Dee!" he mumbled, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes with his fists. Then, he looked at me and blurted, "Look, one thing at a time. I've got to tell you, I'm...I'm very disappointed at your...your lifting Percodan from the cabinet. Those are prescription drugs that I'm responsible for, and you are too, since you're my most trusted employee." Then he changed his tone: "On the other hand...God, Dee...I'm so, so sorry!" His voice almost cracked with emotion as he spoke.

"I know, Dr. Neil," I muttered, interrupting him and hoping that at least I'd averted being fired. "But I've been desperate! At the end of my rope! I panicked - literally - and needed something to anesthetize myself so badly...and I didn't know where to turn...where else to turn."

"You should've come to me, Dee," he murmured. His surprising words were very kind, though they now seemed ineffectual as my crises had taken on much larger dimensions. "I would have helped you," he continued. I glanced at him and saw something - a very tender look - in his eyes, which he intentionally disguised by removing and wiping his glasses as I looked more intently. "You know, when I hired you, I thought you were...". He hesitated as he slipped his glasses back on and opened a file in front of him, staring at a smiling picture of me taken eight or so years before. I realized that he was looking through my personnel file. "I thought you were...one of the finest people I'd ever met," he continued, smiling slightly to himself. "Your education, personality, intelligence, your presence...your...your incredible beauty." He hesitated, pulling himself together, then said rather stiffly, "Ahhh, you've done our business a lot of good over the years, Dee," glancing quickly over at me. "And I want to thank you."

"Thank you, Dr. Neil. But I haven't been an angel," I said, feeling both guilty and self-contemptuous. "Particularly recently." For some reason I suddenly wanted to confess everything to him and said, "I...I've been having an...an affair, and - worse - I've found out a lot of scary stuff about myself...and sex. Especially about sex," I emphasized. "My behavior's gotten out of control."

Slightly embarrassed and trying to avoid details, he said, "Mandy's told me a little about some of your...uuh, problems, Dee, and I want you to know I'll keep them very confidential. Are you...ummm...seeing a therapist?" he asked.

"The rape-crisis doctor next door," I admitted. "But we've barely gotten started."

"Well, she should be able to help you," he said. "But for now we've got to get you on something that's healthier than Percodan. Did you take any of that this morning?" he asked.

I shook my head, indicating no. I wished that I had popped a pill, though, since I was feeling anxious and very shaky.

"Good," he said. "Beginning now, taper off gradually 'til it's out of your system. Then, for your panic attacks, I recommend Klonopin. My wife takes it and it's pretty benign, though can be habit-forming. Here's a sample. Take it and see how you feel later. If it's okay, I'll write you a prescription."

I took the tablet and walked to the bathroom for a cup of water, glad to be out of Dr. Neil's cramped, closet-sized office. I sensed that he, too, was glad to take a break from me, since our conversation had been so serious. Under normal circumstances, by this time one of us would have lightened the mood with an attempt at wit or a joke. Today's heavy conversation was far from the norm and I felt a rising tension between us that had become almost palpable.

I'm really lucky to have such a great boss, though, I thought. He's so...so concerned. He's superficially jovial most of the time, but when an employee is having difficulties, he can be very supportive, attentive, and...caring. And he's cute, I smiled to myself, having seldom thought of him in that way, kind of like a cuddly cousin...a leprechaun...so different from my ideal man, the tall, blond-ish, hunky type.

Back in his office, he asked, "Has Mandy ever told you about her social groups, Dee?"

"Well, we went to a lunch club one day, and it got pretty, uuh...raucous," I answered, hoping Mandy hadn't told him about me giving a blow job to our French waiter, who'd done double duty as a male stripper at the wild, women-only party.

"That's not the group I mean," he said. Again he hesitated, searching for the right words. "Thirty years ago my Dad joined an exclusive, secret club. He'd just hired Mandy for his office. She was 21 at the time. As you know, she's been with the business ever since, ending up the financial manager. She's also been an assistant member of that secret club all this time."

Not fully understanding, I asked, "What does an assistant member do?" I anticipated that Dr. Neil was going to ask me to...to fill in for Mandy, or...whatever.

"First, the 'Club,'" he said. "It's a group run by...very well-connected people, for its own amusements. Its focus is, and always has been, on...on private, uuh, entertainment. On sex," Dr. Neil whispered, obviously embarrassed to be discussing this with me. My heart quickly skipped a beat as my attention was suddenly riveted on what he was saying about sex, which had recently become my favorite subject...my obsession.

"Given my Dad's long-time membership, I was inducted into the group a few years ago, but haven't been active at all," he said. "You know, with my wife and kids I didn't have the inclination, and the cost, and, well...it just hasn't seemed appropriate," he murmured, glancing up quickly to see if I understood. I envied him his family so much, and was sorry that my karma had recently steered me away from parenting and twisted me in the direction of a wanton, salacious life. "An assistant member does what he or she is asked by the senior membership," he explained. "That includes participating in...in ceremonies, and...and shows, and...stuff like that."

"Dr. Neil. Are you asking me to be an assistant member in your Club?" I asked, boldly, wanting to pierce through the mystery of this nervous conversation that was laced with euphemisms.

"Umm, yeah...yes. I'd like you to consider it. I, uuh, my kids are older now...and, my wife...well...she has her women's organizations, and says that I need some time away...you know...a...like a hobby...or something." Then he blurted out, "I'd like you to give some thought to auditioning."

"Let me get this straight, Dr. Neil. As an assistant, I'd be providing sex on demand for almost any member who asked, right?" I asked, wishing that he'd just come out and say it.

"Oh, it's much more discreet and...and...elegant than that, Dee," he objected. "There are, uuh, many advantages. Certain benefits. Long-term rewards," he said. At a total loss for words, he said, "Here. This is the Club's 'Blue Book of Rules,'" he said, handing me a small, paperbound volume. "It explains everything. Read it here at the office if you want, but please return it to me before you leave," he cautioned. "Dr. Neil!" I snickered, reverting to our more typical, joking conversational style. "Permit me to remind you for the thousandth time that you're a terrible salesman," I teased. Then, chortling, I asked, "Read a rule book? I'm supposed to base my decision on that?"

He blushed and said, "Dee, you have no idea how hard this is for me!" He ruminated silently for a moment, then said, "Okay, I'll show you something. Scoot around here and we'll look at a CD recently done of one of the Club shows. Remember, this is super confidential," he said, as I squeezed my chair next to his so I could see his computer screen.

The CD began with a spotlight on a woman...no credits, no intro music, no superficialities. She was tall, gorgeous and blonde, wearing a half mask and a plain, black evening sheath dress. Three female "assistants," I assumed - also masked - were preparing her for a performance. There was a good deal of stroking, kissing and tonguing between them, and soon the woman's dress was removed to reveal only black lace, thigh high stockings. Her luscious breasts and mature curves looked to be those of a woman of about 35. Her rich mane of hair was a delicious blend of yellow, amber, maple and chestnut colors.

The performance area was a blank stage with a chaise at the center...a no-frills set. My interest was piqued as another woman, an attractive, masked brunette, lay between the blonde's legs and began slowly licking her neatly-trimmed gash, shown in close-up on a split screen. The other half-screen showed a close-up of the stunning blonde's face, contorted in pleasure and gasping as she bit her lower lip in response to the brunette's tonguing. The other two assistants soon became busy sucking and kneading the blonde's breasts, much to her delight, and stroking her abdomen and thighs, which were trembling with anticipation.

Pretty tame stuff, I thought...but not without merit! I thought of the CD of my "performance" at the gloryhole that my soon-to-be-ex-husband had forced me to give. Soon I noticed the woman between the blonde's legs brandishing a most interesting dildo. It was clear, and looked to be made of glass. It was not very long, but was thick, and ended in what looked like a square glans penis, with the edges smoothed off. Its base flared out widely and had a series of holes around its flat surface to accommodate fingertips. By inserting the probe in the vagina, the user could - in effect - dial it, around and around, like an old-fashioned phone, and the bumps on the square-ish head would massage the inner G Spot with varying, interrupted pressures. A few seconds of use on the blonde and it was having a profoundly exciting effect. I leaned forward and my thigh pushed hard against Dr. Neil's, causing him to lean back and cross his legs to put some space between us. I was fascinated, and the blonde on the screen was appreciative, as she began an incessant moaning while pressing her right cheek against the chaise and hunching her vulva against the toy embedded in her.

"Mmmm-mmm!" I moaned, and shifted excitedly in my seat. Dr. Neil was leaning back in his chair and I felt him place his hand softly on my back, just above the bra strap that was covered by the sleeveless yellow sweater that I'd worn this morning. His hand felt comforting, familiar, unthreatening, and...male! I thought, wickedly. I glanced at him quickly, acknowledging his touch, curious as to what his intention might be. "How's the Klonopin working?" he asked softly.

"What? Oh, the drug? Fine!" I said, now aware of a warm, dull throb, a peaceful feeling - hopefully from the drug - that had overtaken my body, eliminating any anxiety. It was the kind of feeling that I usually got when Jack started to excite me physically. Who was I kidding? I was starting to feel horny!

"Good!" he said, and began stroking my back with his hand, showing no particular plan or design. I was about to tell him to move his hand lower, since I had a twitchy muscle that needed attention just above my right gluteal dimple, but then a naked man appeared on the screen. He was clearly preparing himself to bury his penis in the now-very-ready blonde woman who was lying with open legs on the chaise, writhing with pleasure wrought from the dildo that slowly turned inside her vagina, cyclically massaging her G Spot.

"Jeezusss," I hissed, as I saw the man on the screen stroking his gigantic cock. It looked to be a foot long, and perhaps three inches in diameter. The assistant between the woman's legs removed the dildo, causing a whine to emanate from the blonde's mouth, but her disappointment was short-lived. The man then stirred the mushroom head of his probe around in the wet, splayed folds of her pink pussy, drawing from her depths a profusion of liquid. He then pushed - without rushing - into the woman until she groaned deeply and pressed her palms against his stomach, indicating that she could take no more. A few more slow thrusts and he was all the way inside her, his balls caressing her upturned saddle as her raised thighs clamped the sides of his hips and her heels pulled at his buttocks. She frantically pulled him to herself by his shoulders as her mouth exuded continuous high cries of pleasure. The camera then focused on her cunt, which pulled at his cock as he stroked out of her, milking at his root as if trying to memorize the intricate, veined bumps and patterns of its skin.

I was now very hot. My eyes were riveted to the screen and I was panting quietly. And, though I didn't know it, my hand had grabbed Dr. Neil's right thigh and I was digging my nails into his leg through his black jeans. I leaned back in my chair and put my feet up on the edge of an open desk drawer in front of me. I'd dressed in a black, floor-length, wrap-around skirt this morning, covering me completely from waist to ankle, which was good since I was tempted to stick my hand under it and diddle myself. I leaned back in my chair with my knees raised slightly and knew that my sopping pussy was beginning to smell.

Dr. Neil broke the silence and murmured, "Seen enough, Dee?" He'd obviously grown uncomfortable with the rising sexual tension in the little office and was giving us both the opportunity to extricate ourselves from what was becoming an increasingly sticky situation.

"N-No!" I stammered quickly, leaving no doubt that I wanted to see more. Without looking away from the screen, I grabbed his left hand, which he'd draped casually over one of his knees. I brought it to my chest with both of my hands, squeezing it as if trying to bring it to life, and pressed it against my spongy breasts, kneading them with his fingers. He inhaled sharply. I'd known for years that he'd been attracted to my tits, having caught the typical male glance at various times during the workday. But until recently I wouldn't have thought of leaving an extra button undone and wearing a lacy bra for his entertainment. Not until Jack Taylor entered my life.

Regardless, Dr. Neil's present, hesitant willingness to let me squeeze my breasts, using his hand, was all the permission I needed to proceed even further. We both looked at the screen as a close-up of the man's cock split the blonde's dribbling snatch, and I groaned and looked over at him. Though the quarters were tight, my pussy was becoming intolerably itchy, and the side opening of my skirt, facing him, was just right. I turned kind of half toward him and spread my legs wider. Moving his hand down, I thrust it under my skirt so that his fingers went right to the thong I was wearing. In seconds two of his fingers were inside me, causing me to close my eyes and moan, and him to gasp: "Oh, God, Dee, you're so wet. Jeezuss! I've wanted you...for...for so long...for...nnngh, God!...all these years!" He struggled to pull me close and breathed heavily into my hair.

"Mmmm, Dr. Neil," I murmured in my throat as his fingers twisted inside my heated, wet tunnel. "You should've told me. Mmmnnn. It might've saved us both a lot of time...and heartache." I removed his glasses and kissed him long and wetly as my buzzing vagina sucked at his twisting, probing digits.

After several minutes our need for more room overcame us. I helped him stand up, and uttered a little, sorrowful squeak as his fingers slipped from within me. I took both of them in my mouth, sucking them clean of my thick juice, and placed a palm on the bulge at his crotch. "I told you, Dr. Neil," I said, looking up at him. "I'm absolutely crazed...horny all the time...just a...just a slut. I don't know if I'm a nymphomaniac or not, but it's not just a coincidence that we're here like this. If you were someone else - even the janitor - I'd probably be doing the same. I only know that I want to suck and fuck you in the worst way, and I wanta' do it now!" I said with urgency, unzipping him and pulling his dick through his fly.

"Haahh! Jayzuss, Mary and Joseph!" he cried, as I lowered my head and sucked his cock into my mouth as deeply as I could. Leaning forward, I pulled open a drawer on his desk next to one of his legs and placed my foot on it. This way I could finger myself while I blew him, as well as watch the couple on the screen as they progressed toward their climax. Apparently Dr. Neil didn't get many blow jobs, or he was addled by the fact that it was I who was doing him, because he just moaned at me in the sweetest way. He murmured, "Oh, Dee...sweet Dee...Dee, your mouth...my God...Dee...you're so...beautiful," as I rolled my tongue around him. He wasn't really long, maybe only six inches or so, but was thick and straight. I found him surprisingly easy to throat and massaged his balls gently in my hand as his corona slipped repeatedly past my epiglottis.

I worked with him for quite a while, slowly pushing his cock in and out of my throat. From the corner of my eye I saw the onscreen couple have their orgasm...a simultaneous number that had him bathing her head, neck, shoulders and tits with the largest cum deposit I'd ever seen. But Dr. Neil and I were happy with our little task. My mind worked as quickly as my mouth and tongue, imagining the moment - hopefully soon - when I'd feel my boss inside me, visiting on me that sublime, male plunging that I now lived for each day. And very soon we both erupted. He shot gobs of cum into my mouth while yelling my name, and pumped his entire thick, tasty load down my gullet. At the same time I flicked my bulbous clit into submission, drawing from myself a wrenching, mewling climax that was most satisfying for the first of the day. As I stopped panting, in the back of my mind I thought that I should begin recording my sexual insights from now on. If I did, Maxim Number One would be: "Even though you have to do it yourself, it's always a little better than usual when you're with a new guy."