Deirdre's Downfall Ch. 04

I breathed deeply and continued, this time in cold, measured tones: "Things have changed. Number one, I'm going to oversee the remodeling project...myself...and Jack Taylor's going to design and manage all the work. No questions from you. You and I will split the costs. Number two, I'm seeing the gynecologist and seriously plan to have a baby...whenever I wish and using whatever means I choose. Number three, for ten years I've lived to provide for your wishes; now, you're going to have to start providing for mine. Four, if you voice any unreasonable objections, you can just leave!"

Frank stared at me for the longest time, processing my pronouncements in his hungover brain.

For a fraction of a second I almost reached to hold his aching head against my bosom and murmur to him that everything was okay, as I'd done for years when he was in similar shape. But I held firm, taking very small pleasure in my hypocritical rationale. My psyche as well as my body had been bruised, but I'd finally lain down my law...and had emerged with the upper hand. My Italian father would have been shocked...my Italian mother probably would have supported me without question.

Later in the day I called my dearest Jack at his office and once again apologized for the day before. I mentioned nothing about the previous night's harrowing experience. He agreed to come by Saturday to show his remodel plans. I also called my gynecologist friend, explaining that I'd decided to get pregnant using artificial insemination. Many arrangements would have to be made, she said, and it would be a long process. We agreed to meet the following week. And, as a sop to my newly-inflated ego, I ordered some lingerie online from Frederick's of Hollywood, replacing my destroyed red thong, plus adding more thigh high nylons and panties, two of them crotchless.

That night Frank came home seemingly repentant. He actually took the garbage out...something I'd done for years. As I fixed dinner, I wondered if this would be a good time to ask him to clean the rain gutters and cut the grass. We had a quiet, humorless talk over the meal. He informed me that Bruce had been in rough shape at the office, and was sporting a bandage on his head from having "fallen down." I took this news with some measure of private, gleeful satisfaction, but that was short-lived as Frank told me Bruce was sending him to Phoenix with an accountant over the weekend...to perform an audit at the new branch office.

I looked at him coldly and asked, "Is Corky going with you?"

"Aw, Dee, gimme a break," he said, whiningly. He hadn't answered my question.

"Well," I responded, "I told you I don't care what you do. But, Jack's coming over Saturday and we're going ahead with the remodel. I'll also be going to the City next week for an architectural show and don't know when I'll be home."

"Okay, Dee," he said quietly, passively accepting my dictates. He, it seemed, was beginning to realize that our marriage had indeed changed. For it to survive, he would have to give as well as take.

As I undressed in the bedroom, Frank was already under the covers and noticed my new thong. When I peeled it off he stared at my shaved crotch and said, "Wow, Dee, this is a whole new you!" gasping in surprise.

"You have no idea, Frank," I said, as I went to him and tugged on his dick to place it in my mouth. In a few moments he was erect and I mounted and took him, cruelly bringing myself to an orgasm with fingers flailing my clit. My eyes were closed as I imagined Jack inside me.

As Frank climaxed, his cries sounded like the primitive yawps of a teenage youth – half man, half boy – on a playground. His momentary pleasure drove all trepidation from his mind as he gripped my demanding hips, yelling out his joy in a plaintive adolescent voice while feverishly splashing his infertile cum into me.

Deirdre's newfound confidence is short-lived as her downfall continues. Join us for the next chapter. In the meantime, please send feedback and vote!