Falling

Chapter 13, In which we have callers

The numbers didn't make

sense

. True, I was just the house slut and I was more than a little distracted at the time, but somehow I just

knew

the monthly outlays were more than double what they should have been.

"Am I boring you?" Irene asked. "I could get the hook."

My bladder clenched at the faint disapproval in her voice and I wet myself. It didn't happen very often, but it wasn't so unusual that it was worthy of mention. I'd just clean up when she was finished with me.

At the moment, I was bent over my boss's desk, unaccountably fixated on some of the paperwork on it, with my black dress and white crinolines pushed up to reveal my butt. Irene crouched at my side, breathing heavily, while she slowly tugged on the string until another bead emerged from my back door.

It might have seemed strange to anybody who didn't know us very well, but as Linnea was fond of saying, we were a match made in heaven. I was a slut, so I could get off on nearly anything, but I found anal sex especially arousing. Irene, on the other hand, couldn't get herself off

except

by doing anal -- with somebody else.

She liked to get herself warmed up by doing something with my ass, and then I'd finish her off, usually with my tongue. We were just about at the point where we'd switch, but something had thrown me off and Irene knew it. "Maybe you just need to keep these a while longer," she mused.

I could feel the warmth of her breath on my cheeks as she deftly poked the beads, one by one, back into my rectum. This set was constructed like Ben Wah balls, so I knew I'd have a good time. I wasn't allowed to masturbate, but Irene -- unlike Linnea -- didn't mind if I managed to orgasm when I wasn't between her legs.

Shaking my head at the odd turn of thought, we traded places. Linnea Richwell was way beyond hot and the thought of servicing her was enough to make me drip, but she was totally out of my league. She was Irene's boss, and also the sole trustee of the Richwell family trust, which was saying quite a lot. It wasn't like Linnea didn't know who I was -- the staff wasn't

that

large -- but she could have anybody she wanted; I was barely on her radar.

I was glad I worked for Irene. She was big on discipline and etiquette, but there wasn't a mean bone in her body. I slowly pushed her designer skirt up to her hips and buried my face between her cheeks. Yum, I thought, wetting my tongue in her moist pussy before concentrating on her wonderful rosebud.

Suddenly Irene was pushing me away; I sat back on my heels and followed her gaze to the office doorway.

"Oh, geez, I'm really sorry, Irene, but..." Cammy, the new girl, looked more than a little flustered. I think she'd been hired on as an intern or something, but "intelligence" or "decisiveness" weren't words that came to mind when I thought of her. Unlike, say, "juicy" or "delectable."

"What's wrong, Cam?" asked Irene, as she brushed her skirt down and turned so she could sit on the desk. It was one of the things I liked about Irene; she was always so considerate and professional.

"There are people here," Cammy said, twisting the end of a jet-black pigtail around one finger. From where I knelt, her slick cunny was easily visible below the ultra-short black and navy plaid skirt. She was clean-shaven, like the rest of us, but had on black knee socks instead of stockings and garters like Irene and myself. Her thin black blouse had only a single button fastened, about in line with her navel.

It would have been easy to mistake her for just another Catholic schoolgirl, except for the size of the breasts spilling out of her top and the super-refined makeup on her face. Young girls always went with too much color; only after you'd been around for a while did you realize that unrelieved black, and plenty of it, was the ultimate in sexy looks.

Well, okay; I did wear candy-red lipstick, because it went so well with my platinum blonde hair, but the heavy mascara and eyeliner was de rigueur. Even an airhead like Cammy had figured that out.

"What people?" asked Irene, bringing me back to the moment. "What did they want?"

"I don't know," Cammy whined. "They just wanted to talk to Ms. Richwell, and they won't leave." She meant Linnea; although Linnea's parents also were in residence, nobody came to see them except doctors -- especially psychologists. But we knew them all on sight.

Irene snorted. "Fat chance of that happening." Linnea was so busy nobody got on her schedule without a lot of advance notice; it was why she had an executive assistant. Except the executive assistant wasn't exactly a shiftless idler, either. "I've got to review the budget with her now, too," she reminded us, although I knew her schedule already. "Can you deal with this, Lily?" she asked me.

"Absolutely, Irene," I immediately responded. The warm glow of arousal within me ticked higher, fanned by my instant obedience. "I'll run them off if they're solicitors, and get something on your calendar for later if it seems appropriate. Okay?"

"Fantastic, as always," she approved, patting me gently on the head. "Cam, I want you to go with Lily. Watch what she does, so you can handle this by yourself next time."

"You are so hot, Lily," Cammy told me as we walked down to the entry foyer. "I don't know anybody with a bell like that." The bell in question hung from a ring just behind my clit. Shaped like a lily, it chimed in pleasing counterpoint to the clicks of our stilettos on the hardwood floor.

"Thanks," I said, a little uncomfortable with being the object of such adoration. "You're pretty hot, too."

"Aren't I?" she preened. Lowering her voice a tad, Cammy confided, "Linnea thinks I should get my tongue pierced, like Miriam."

"Wow," I responded, a bit breathlessly. "That's a big step up, for an intern." I envied her a bit for attracting Linnea's notice; the thought she could do something to herself for Linnea made me gooey inside.

Cammy's voice got even quieter. "Yeah. I'm a little nervous about it; I never did girls before I started here, you know?"

"Don't worry about it," I reassured her. "Sometimes it just takes a while to figure out what's right for you."

"But I want to be

good

," she protested. "Can you give me some tips? Everybody says you're like this major slut."

I sighed, feeling perversely pleased, even if it was clear Linnea didn't share that opinion. "I'd think Miriam would be a better person to ask."

"She's lazy," Cammy whispered, looking about for eavesdroppers. "She licks for hours, and sometimes I think Linnea forgets she's there!" A little more loudly, she continued, "Irene is always talking about what a great assistant you are, and

everybody

can hear it when you're doing her! And you don't even have a stud. I want to be like that."

I felt guilty for thinking such mean things about her, earlier. Anybody who shared my opinion of Miriam couldn't be all bad, and I liked to see new people with drive who wanted to improve themselves and get ahead. "I don't know what I can do, Cammy, but I'll help out. Maybe we can talk to Irene about it."

"You're the best!" she squealed, and then pounced on me for a big wet kiss. Her tongue was aggressive and her lips tasted of licorice; I couldn't resist sliding my hand into her opened blouse and copping a feel of her tit. Unlike her, I had the discipline to break contact right away; Irene expected me to take care of our visitors, not screw around with the other help.

The pair waiting for us in the foyer didn't look like a traditional couple. The guy was a solidly built Hispanic who probably weighed about the same as Cammy and I put together. His companion was a short-haired Asian who, although tall, was thin as a rail. I figured her for a woman, mostly on the basis of the way her short hair was styled; she didn't have makeup or anything in the way of a bust. They turned to face us as we swept through the inner door.

"Cammy! Please relight these candles, right away," I said, displeased to find them all extinguished. Linnea was real big on candles; I knew better than most, since I spent a lot of time each day making sure they were replaced before they burned down. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting," I addressed our visitors.

"It's no problem," the man said. "You don't have to keep those burning on our account."

"They

were

all lit," Cammy groused, quietly, but she was already lighting the first of the big wall sconces.

"Well," I said, seeing things seemed to be under control, "I'm Lily. How can I help you today?"

"My name is Kim," the woman introduced herself, "and this is Xavier." They both bowed briefly rather than offering a handshake. "We were hoping to see Linnea?" She coughed lightly even as I was inhaling to get a deep breath of the newly-renewed scent of incense.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized. "As I'm sure Cammy told you, Ms. Richwell is extremely busy and doesn't have room in her schedule for walk-ins. Perhaps you could make an appointment for a future time; may I ask what this is regarding?"

Annoyingly, Xavier chose to answer my question with one of his own. "Are you her assistant?" he asked, staring intently at me.

I stepped ruthlessly on my inclination to inflate my importance, since I didn't know who they were and didn't want anything inappropriate to get back to Linnea. "No, I'm Irene Calzetta's slut. Irene is Linnea's executive assistant." The two of them exchanged a glance. "I'm quite capable of getting you on Linnea's calendar," I insisted.

Xavier pulled a photo out of his shirt pocket and held it out to me. "Do you know this woman, Lily?"

Accepting it, I moved a little closer to one of the windows where the light was better. Cammy leaned over my shoulder to look too, but she remained quiet so I didn't say anything. The woman in the picture was somewhat attractive, but dreadfully plain. She was smiling, but didn't seem to have any makeup beyond some timid lipstick. Medium blonde hair that looked like it had never seen anything except a brush came about to her shoulders. The picture was cropped so it wasn't really possible to see what she was wearing or where she was.

"She's kind of a dog," Cammy whispered, pressing herself lightly against my back.

I shushed her as I handed back the photo. "I'm afraid not," I shook my head, feeling my earrings swing. "Is she what you wanted to speak with Linnea about?"

Kim and Xavier traded that look again. "Are you sure?" she asked me.

"Absolutely," I replied. "Look, are you the police or something? Who is this woman?"

Xavier opened his mouth first, but Kim blurted out, "Nobody," before he could put a word in. "We're very sorry to have disturbed you, Lily. If we could ask just one more question?"

I nodded politely. "Certainly." Frankly, I was tired of them and wanted them to leave, but Irene and Linnea always stressed to the staff that we shouldn't make any waves; the Richwells had enough problems without making it onto TMZ or the cover of some tabloid.

"Who's this?" Kim held out another picture.

"Please leave, now," I said firmly after just a quick glance. I was more certain than ever the pair of them were muckrakers of one sort or another. "You are no longer welcome here."

"Oh, wow," said Cammy, trying to peer over my shoulder again. "When was that?"

"Cammy," I sighed, but they were already focused on her.

"Do you recognize them?" Kim asked, brusquely pushing past me to shove the picture in front of Cammy.

"That's it! Out!" I shouted at them, pushing the Asian towards the elevator. "A little help, please?" I muttered over my shoulder.

Cammy jumped and leaned over to hit the elevator call button. Meanwhile, Xavier had grabbed Kim and hauled her away from us like we had leprosy. "We're leaving!" he assured me, backing towards the elevator. "I'm sorry; we didn't mean to upset you."

I glared at the pair of them until the closing doors blocked them from my sight, and then took a deep calming breath. "It would have been better to just stay silent, Cammy."

She didn't look too repentant. "Well, they weren't going to let you get close enough to get a hair without being distracted, right? Besides, I was curious -- I've never seen Linnea with a guy."

With another sigh, I looked at the dark hair pinched between my fingers. Xavier hadn't let me get near him -- whether intentionally or accidentally, I wasn't sure -- but Kim hadn't been so lucky. My mind shied away from thinking about the picture, but Cammy wouldn't let it go.

"She was dressed like a bum, too. I guess that was before she moved here, right?"

"It's none of our business," I protested, she was right. The casual clothing in the picture wasn't anything like what Linnea wore now -- when she bothered to dress. She'd been standing with a good-looking man who looked vaguely familiar, and holding up some little trinket. It looked like the commemorative pins some places gave out, but... I shook my head and pushed the troublesome thoughts away.

"The candles were lit when you met them originally?" Cammy nodded. "Then I suppose we'd better go tell Irene. I didn't like the feel of those people." None of it really made sense to me, but Linnea was very possessive of her candles and had a fetish for collecting hairs from visitors. It had never been a problem before, as far as I knew.

Irene's office was still empty, so we continued on to Linnea's office and I knocked gingerly at the door before entering. I hated to disturb them if their meeting was still in progress, but Irene was a stickler for good communication; it was another of the things I really liked about her.

"Oh, wow," Cammy sighed from behind me, and I had to agree.

Linnea was standing in the middle of the room, head back and eyes closed, looking like the earthly incarnation of Aphrodite. The perfection of her jet black hair and black-rimmed eyes, their thick lashes fluttering above her pale cheeks, made me want to dive between her legs and worship her while fingering myself violently.

Unfortunately, that spot already was occupied. Miriam knelt in front of Linnea, her tongue and fingers busy. The sloppy liquid sounds she made had me trembling. Behind, I could see Irene's head bobbing against Linnea's buns and I knew she was working her tongue deep into her boss's ass.

I knew I was setting a bad example, but nobody alive could have been unmoved by the scene before us, and I was a

slut

. "Fuck," I moaned, turning to Cammy, "Do me! Work my tits!" I covered her glossy lips with my own before she could reply, and then pressed her up against the door, cupping her wet gash with my hand.

Technically, I wasn't masturbating, and Cammy -- as an intern -- probably was supposed to do what I told her, even if I was just the house slut. She didn't put up any resistance, anyway. I tasted the black licorice of her lip gloss and watched her eyes half close as two of my fingers glided deep inside her hot pussy and my thumb started massaging her trigger.

It was my turn to gasp into her mouth when she brushed the lace back from my nipples and captured one of them between a thumb and forefinger. My tits and nips were super-sensitive, and if Cammy hadn't known that before, she did after a single twist had me cumming in her embrace.

I tensed against her, a corner of my mind trying to keep my bell under control, and concentrated on giving as good as I got. I hardly ever had the chance to do a girl this way, and watching Cammy's body language go from pleasure to reluctance to disbelief to mindless lust was a real trip.

Was Mrs. Richwell's predilection for young girls genetic? The thought was so inapropos on so many levels it almost took me out of the moment, but Cammy's teasing fingers and tongue got me over the hump and we both saw fireworks again.

"What, Lily?"

I belatedly realized the others were looking at us and the only sound in the office, besides our heavy breathing, was the faint music of my bell as it swung between my thighs. I looked fearfully at the trio near the desk, but Linnea seemed to be riding a just-been-fucked high and Irene gave me the faintest of winks, as if she sympathized with my desires.

"There's something fishy about the couple that was just here," I said, speaking to the gap between Linnea and Irene. I wasn't sure which of them I really was supposed to address, although I wished it were Irene.

Already Linnea's fuse seemed to be burning down. "What couple?" she snapped, smoothing down the hem of her expensive-looking dress. "When?"

Irene gave me an approving nod and I clutched to that lifeline, fighting my nervous bladder and telling myself I hadn't done anything wrong. "Just now," I stammered. "They were looking for you, but wouldn't say why. We told them to leave, and they finally did."

"They put out the candles in the foyer, too," Cammy added, "but Lily had me relight them right away."

Linnea's gazed locked onto the intern. "'We?' You were there?"

Cammy nodded eagerly. "Yes. I answered when they first arrived, but they were like pushy so I went to Irene, and she sent Lily to help me."

"You are not supposed to be answering the door!" Linnea yelled.

If she'd been talking to me that way, I would have wet myself like a baby, but her displeasure seemed to just roll off of Cammy. "But they kept ringing the doorbell!"

Irene sighed and interjected herself into the conversation. "It's probably my fault, Linnea. My morning meeting with Lily ran a bit long and I hadn't released her yet. Cammy was just trying to help. What's the problem?"

Linnea couldn't entirely suppress a smirk; it wasn't much of a secret what went on during our meetings. As if she could talk, although that wasn't something I could say in my position! Linnea sighed and sat down in her chair. "You say they were asking for me? Did you recognize them?"

"No, I mean, yes, well..." Cammy unconsciously swiveled a foot on the floor, trying to work it through. "They wanted you, definitely. There was a picture and everything. And I don't think I've ever seen them before at all."

The girl was sweet, but she absolutely could not carry a story. I hoped Linnea wasn't considering her for anything too important. Taking a deep mental breath, I spoke up again.

"Their names were Kim and Xavier. They did ask to speak with you, but the photograph they showed us first was of some other woman, a little plain but not unattractive, whom we did not recognize. Subsequently, they asked us to look at a second picture, of you standing with some man and holding what looked like a charm. You were dressed quite casually."

Linnea didn't look as surprised as I might have expected. "A thin Asian woman, and a big Hispanic guy, right?"

Cammy and I nodded in unison.

"Damnit." Her anger didn't seem to be directed at us. "I don't suppose you managed to get any hairs from them?" It was clear Linnea's expectations weren't very high.

"

Yes!

" Cammy cried, bouncing up and down excitedly. I held up the short dark hair, still pinched in a death grip so I wouldn't lose it.

I tried to adjust Linnea's expectations, which I feared we'd accidentally just inflated, and share credit where it was due. "Just from Kim; Cammy did a nice job of distracting her. Xavier wouldn't let either of us get anywhere near him."

Linnea still looked happy as she casually pushed Miriam aside with a foot and strode over to collect our prize. The quick kiss she gave each of us left me swooning with pleasure. By the time I recovered my senses, she was back at her desk and frowning again.

"Are they a problem? Do we need to contact the police?" Irene asked.

"Nooooo," Linnea said slowly, still thinking.

I turned to herd Cammy (and myself) out of the office; we'd done our duty and clearly it was a job for the big girls now.