tagExhibitionist & VoyeurDeirdre's Downfall Ch. 07

Deirdre's Downfall Ch. 07


In previous chapters Dee has descended from a faithful wife to a dissolute slut. Here she wrestles with two addictions: one to painkilling drugs and the other to sex itself. Reading earlier chapters helps. As always, please vote and send constructive feedback.

"Dee Dee! Dee Dee!" I heard dimly through my half-asleep consciousness. It was Jack, and I reached over to stroke his penis. My hand closed instead on the dildo given me the night before by the adult bookstore owner. Blackmailing me with pictures of Jack and me making love, my husband, Frank, had forced me to engage in some frightfully obscene, exhibitionist acts at that establishment's "gloryhole." Then he'd brought me home and left for a few days, "to get his head straight," he'd said. Awake now, though still groggy from my continuing diet of painkilling drugs, I realized that my lover was climbing the stairs. I quickly stashed the dildo, encrusted with my dried juices, under my pillow. "Hey, sweetness! I let myself in," Jack said. "Gotta' get the crew started at seven." "The crew" were Hispanic workers led by a Russian foreman, Sergei, who were doing our house remodel, which had been designed by Jack and was now being managed by him. I looked at the bedside clock. It was 6:30 a.m.

"Mmm, Jack," I said, sleepily, "C'mere an' spend a few minutes with me," I pleaded, stretching my arms out to him and wanting his hard body. The weekend had been horrific. I'd been raped on Saturday night by Frank's boss, Bruce, had told my husband about it, and he hadn't cared. Bruce had given Frank pictures of Jack and me fucking in the backyard, hence my husband's sadistic gloryhole punishment. Jack and I hadn't made love since before the attack on Saturday night, and last evening's exhibitionist experience – in retrospect – had been doubly upsetting since Frank had been unsympathetic to my news about the rape. Beyond that, my drug-addled body itched to feel the glorious, familiar joy that Jack could evoke in me. He could make me feel whole again, I hoped. I was naked under the sheets and let the covers slip below my breasts to entice him.

"Oh-ho-ho-ho, babe, don't get me started!" he said. "If Sergei and those Hispanic guys, and especially your neighbor, Billy-boy, find out we're playmates, there goes my authoritative image!" he said, explaining the rationale behind a college course in management practice in one sentence. "Welll..." he hesitated, "maybe just one hug," he grinned, and lay down next to me, whereupon I yelped and stripped the covers from between us, gripping one of his powerful thighs between my legs and hunching against him a few times. One of my hands on the back of his head brought his mouth to mine and I kissed him, thrusting my icky morning tongue into his sweet mouth, in which I could taste the residue of toothpaste or mouthwash. His smoothly shaven face had been splashed with an after shave that transported me. I had to have him, and quickly unbuckled and unzipped his jeans to grasp his cock, which throbbed in response to my caresses. "Ohhh, sweetie, we don't have time," Jack groaned, weakening.

"Yes we do!" I gasped as I wheeled around and assumed a "69" position. "Come on!" I grunted, straddling his tan face. Though I'd showered and cleaned myself thoroughly before going to bed, after the whole bizarre gloryhole experience I was still mindful of the cum that had been sprayed into me by another man – the black man, Zack – the night before. Other than Frank, no man except Jack had ever cum inside me. Regardless, when Jack's tongue touched inside my inner lips, I forgot any grotesque images and possible reluctance.

"Mmm, yer' goo-ud," Jack mumbled between licks. "You mas'ur-bay'udh when you went to bed," he giggled, slurping the thick morning juices from my splayed pussy. I just moaned agreement and, forcing my tongue to the bottom of my mouth, tried as best I could to throat him, as I guiltily wondered whether I should tell him about the previous evening. I decided against it, since Bruce had met with a brutal "accident" – most likely engineered by Jack, I'd deduced – and I didn't want my husband to be hurt physically, regardless of my anger and contempt for him.

This was the first sexual contact between Jack and me since my rape. Since then, he'd very gently and considerately catered to all of my possible needs, the sexual ones not really becoming apparent until the night before. But this morning I was on fire! I looked consciously at the clock: 6:40! and continued sucking his long, thick cock. This is how I'd fantasized the beginning of each day that he'd be managing the remodel project. I would demonstrate to him my love, and keep him thinking about me all day as he went about other business.

Then I remembered again that he'd somehow arranged for my rapist, Bruce, to be horribly punished, and shivered as I pictured that odious, now-broken man convalescing in a hospital bed. I thrust aside the image this time, though, telling myself that he'd deserved whatever punishment he'd gotten, and resumed my focus on Jack's cock. I took as much of him as I could, nestling his spongy head at the back of my mouth and swallowing, moaning as I did so and hoping to coax a quick, tasty load from his scrotum. And his marvelous mouth was feathering me softly, already sending rapid, tingling waves to my center.

We worked quickly, as time was short, and both of us began climbing toward a delightful, simultaneous peak. I'd just felt the first shard of white heat flash into my pussy when the doorbell rang. Jack groaned and shifted, which prompted me to plunge my mouth back down on him and grind my pelvis against his chin, then the bell rang again! I was just going over the top when Jack suddenly pulled out from under me to clamber to his feet, hastily zipping his jeans. "Noooo!" I cried, curling myself into the fetal position and grasping my sopping pussy with both hands, as the orgasm faded. I was crestfallen as Jack bounded down the stairs to open the door to the cheery voice of Billy, the 19-year-old neighbor boy whom Jack had hired as a combination construction helper and bodyguard, and who – incidentally – had also told me recently that he'd had a crush on me since he'd been a kid.

"Hey, Mr. Taylor!" I heard distantly. "I'm a little early. Saw you drive up. Did I wake Deirdre?" Billy asked. I felt as if a huge, aching hole had been dug in the pit of my stomach.

"She's asleep, Billy," Jack answered. "Let's go in the kitchen and have coffee. I can't spend much time here for the next few days, so I wanta' explain what we've gotta' do."

"But I'm just the helper, Mr. Taylor!" Billy said modestly.

"Yeah, I know. Okay, I'll wait 'til Sergei and the guys get here..." Jack responded. Their conversation trailed off as they entered the kitchen.

Minutes later I came downstairs. I'd brushed my teeth, hastily combed through my hair, and thrown on an old, long, pale blue flannel bathrobe that I wear when I'm sick. I popped a Percodan and mumbled a good morning. I was in a foul mood and looked it...every bit the frumpy, care-worn housewife. Leaving the two to their "man talk," I plopped down in the breakfast nook to read the morning paper. The doorbell rang again – it was Sergei and his Mexican crew – and my two protectors went outside to do their thing.

God! I thought on reflection. What a self-centered bitch! Here are two wonderful, loyal guys who have proven their devotion to you and all you can do is growl at them. Maybe you should take some "uppers" rather than all this Percodan, I daydreamed to myself. Then I realized that the real reason I was bitchy was the fact that I was incredibly horny. That little taste upstairs had just whetted my appetite and my hormones were raging! Maybe I can get Jack to stay a while! I thought, hopefully. If he leaves I'm going to get out those pictures of us...maybe watch last night's gloryhole CD...and masturbate myself into oblivion! I pledged.

Jack came back in at 7:30. I'd finished breakfast. He was contrite about our earlier interrupted passion, and informed me – at which I started to respond in a panic – that he'd only be around for a short while the next two mornings. But he calmed me by saying that Billy would watch over me, and that we'd be attending his architectural show later in the week...something I'd looked forward to. I received his news with a deep, yearning hunger, and held him for the longest time, trying to draw some of his warm essence into my body through my bathrobe. It didn't work. After he left I took a shower and washed my hair, which made me feel better, but I was grumpy and cursed a few times – a new habit, by the way – as I groggily bumped into furniture, this a result of my growing intake of Percodan.

I'd put on a pair of cutoff jeans and a starched, blue chambray work shirt – the perfect casual wear for around the house. I tied the shirttail in a knot under my breasts, baring my smooth olive tummy and lower back. I spent a lot of time on my makeup and hair, experimenting so that my facial highlights matched perfectly my newly dyed dark tresses. Then I decided to be productive. I accessed the office e-mail and answered those that required it, then deleted the spam on my home address. I read the breaking CNN news reports and made coffee...just to get some energy. I retrieved the dirty pictures that Bruce had snapped of Jack and me. God, they were hot! I thought, as I studied each to the most minute detail. My hand wandered into my cutoffs, slowly pushing inside the elastic on my panties, and I began to actuate my masturbation plan of earlier in the morning. It was now about 10 a.m. and the workers were busy with their noisy tasks. So noisy were they, in fact, that the screeches and grinding of power saws, accompanied by loud music tuned to a Mexican station, intruded on my masturbatory reverie. I barked, "Shit!" and flounced upstairs to get the CD that had been burned of my exploits the previous night in the gloryhole booth. While upstairs, I took another Percodan to counteract the effects of the coffee.

I watched the CD on my computer and found it arousing...but almost funny. Yes, Frank and Corky's frantic coupling were memorialized on it and I looked at Corky, suddenly feeling a sadness for her. She's really quite attractive, I thought, but has cheapened her nice, natural features with trashy makeup, bargain basement hair dye, shoddy jewelry, and slutty clothing. I surmised that something might have happened in her life to turn her into a tawdry caricature of what formerly might have been a pretty, innocent young woman. Frank was another story. I hardly knew him anymore, and shunned thoughts of our respective cruelties...which only made me more grumpy...though I did think to myself, cunningly, that I'd hold onto the lewd CD, showing him and Corky fucking, as evidence if he ever tried to tattle on me to my family.

My portion of the CD was also interesting...particularly of me fellating Ramon. What a ham! I thought, as I saw myself playing to the camera. Fully cognizant that I'd had an audience, I'd done the scene like a porn actress, something that made me suddenly aware that I might have an exhibitionist streak somewhere in my Italian-American soul. I tried masturbating again at the lewd sucking images but it only made me drowsy...very...very...sleepy... .

I was awakened by Billy shaking my shoulder gently. "Dee! Deirdre!" he whispered, "I rang the bell but ya' didn't answer. I got worried so I came in. It's lunch time! Can I have a sandwich?" he asked. His tall, muscular body was dressed in its usual uniform of shorts and tennis shoes.

"Oh! Billy!" I said, alarmed, and thanked the Lord the computer had switched to the screen saver. My right hand was asleep, having been stuck down the front of my cutoffs, since I'd dozed off while stroking my clit. I quickly pulled it out and switched off the monitor, looking up at Billy, who returned my glance with a penetrating gaze that indicated far more knowledge of human foibles than one might expect of a youth of 19. "Of course, let's have some lunch!" I said, and jumped to my feet – too quickly – as I staggered back into him in a half faint. He caught me under the arms and I fell against him, resting on his welcoming, hard body as I gasped, "God! Sorry! Almost fainted! Not feeling myself!" Without saying a word, Billy stood me up straight and I walked ahead of him to the kitchen...conscious of his eyes on the strip of flesh below my tied shirt as well as my butt that seemed to be twitching in my cutoffs.

Billy ate quickly and left for outside, hesitating at the door to say, "If you don't feel well this afternoon, Dee, gimme a shout an' I'll come in an' wipe your feverish brow, okay? I do it for Mom all the time!" he stated, grinning broadly. I thanked him and quickly pulled the lurid disk from the computer, stashing it and Bruce's dirty pictures in one of the 125 shoe boxes in my dressing closet, one I use for hiding money, jewelry, and other private, personal things. I then lay down in the bedroom and got some real sleep.

At about 3:45 I awoke and it was quiet outside. The workers had gone, leaving only Billy and his dog, Thor, to keep watch, according to Jack's instructions. Still on the bed, I groaned and reached inside my cutoffs again...anything to relieve the pressure that had grown in my tummy since early morning. I couldn't even get a twinge of excitement from rubbing my clit. I moaned loudly and lay on my back, a couple of cold tears running down into my ears. I grabbed a pillow and put it over my face and screamed into it until I had to stop for breath. Another panic attack! Should I take a pill? I wondered. No, I told myself, that won't help. Coffee? No, that'll only make me shake.

Just go downstairs and listen to some music! That'll calm you! Yes! Frank's not here to turn it off, as he always does! I descended the stairs and saw Billy on the front lawn, teasing Thor with a stick. As my eyes swept over his lean, muscular body I hesitated one second, then knew what I'd do...and no amount of guilt – now or later – would prevent it. I slowly opened the door and asked in a soft voice, "Billy, uuhmm...could you come in and...keep me company?" Very calculatingly, I decided, I'm going to seduce this young man.

"Sure, Deirdre, uhh, Dee! Can I have a Coke?" he asked. Thor followed him inside.

I crooked a beckoning finger to him over my shoulder so he'd follow me into the kitchen. As he sipped his Coke we made small talk about the remodel project and I made myself a drink. A strong vodka and orange juice would give me a buzz, I thought, since I wanted to wait a while before I took the next Percodan. Then, standing with my back to the sink, as Billy sat eight feet away in the nook with Thor at his feet, I cut to the chase.

"Mmmm, yesterday you said that you'd watched me over the years, Billy," I said. "Was it from your bedroom window?...At night?" I questioned.

"Uhh...yeah...," he said in almost a whisper, looking down at his hands as the color rose in his face. His right knee started that quick, nervous, up and down tremor that boys and young men exhibit when their right-angled legs are braced on the balls of their feet.

"Did you see me naked?" I asked, softly. Deeply in his throat he uttered a constricted groan. "Did you like seeing me naked? What did you do?" I pressed, lasciviously, wanting to hear his youthful confession.

He shifted in his seat and looked up at me, turning his Coke can slowly in both large hands. "I...uuhhh...awww, Deirdre...uuh, Dee!" he caught himself, "It's too embarrassing!" he blushed, looking toward the door as if wanting to flee. Hesitating, and in almost a whisper, he gasped, "I thought you were the most beautiful lady I'd ever seen! I still do!"

Sipping my drink and feeling the effects of the vodka warming me, I asked, "Did you touch yourself, Billy? Did you masturbate? Did you jack off when you watched me?" I probed, lewdly, remembering the majestic sight of him cumming against the tree in my backyard the day before.

"Nnnn-Gawwd, Dee!" he moaned, "Whaddaya' want from me? Well...yeah! I admit it! I watched you with my Dad's binoculars and jerked myself crazy...for years!" he admitted, seeming to relieve a lifetime of guilt in having said it.

"When did you stop being a peeping Tom that way?" I asked, quietly, satisfied that we'd had a breakthrough, as would any concerned, understanding therapist.

"Two nights ago," he whispered. "Just before I started the job here."

"Well," I said, putting down my nearly finished drink and placing my hands beside my hips as I leaned against the counter. The vodka had done its job and I felt that my ears were red, with the blood thrumming in them. "C'mere, Billy," I said. He looked up at me as if I were going to strike him for having been so impudent...so immoral. "I said, come here," with some force in my voice and beckoning with one hand. He put down his Coke and stood to full height. God! he was gorgeous...what a ripped body! I thought, drinking in his hairless, tanned muscles laced with thick, blue-green veins. He stood in front of me, nervous and breathing heavily, as I scanned the firm, chiseled planes of his Anglo face, at the bottom of which his full lips were parted to reveal perfect young white teeth. I reached out and touched one of his pectorals, fluttering my fingers across it, which caused an audible groan to escape from him. His skin exuded moist heat against my fingertips. "Mmmm, Billy...would you...please...hold me?" I asked, mewling the question in my throat and looking up at him.

He stepped forward, slowly, and awkwardly surrounded me with his arms...and I grasped him around his taut waist, pressing my full breasts against his tight abdomen. I closed my eyes, lay my head against his chest, and sighed. He was extremely tense, and I felt his knees trembling as we embraced. "This is a whole lot better than your fantasy, hmmm, honey?" I murmured, turning my face toward him and licking softly – twice – the sweaty crease above his sternum. His salty taste rekindled the fires in me that had been banked so cruelly in the morning and I clasped one of his thighs between my legs so that he could feel my heat. He gasped at my tongue's contact with his chest and moaned, craning his head skyward as he did so. "Like the way I feel, Billy?" I whispered, again turning my face up to his. "Hmmm? Like the way I smell? Hmmm? You wanna' kiss me, Billy? Sure you do. Kiss me...now, Billy...please...," I requested.

His lips were like satin...and I wasted no time in opening my mouth fully to probe him with my tongue. Ohh, Jack, I thought privately to my absent lover...I'm going to fuck this young man...a mere boy compared to you...but... . God! I thought, still speaking in my mind to Jack, is this how you feel – like Billy does now – when your beautiful Chinese tailor makes a move on you? A lyric from an ancient sixties song – older than I am – ran through my brain: If you can't be with the one you love, then love the one you're with...love the one you're with. This seeming justification wasn't needed, though, since I felt Billy becoming erect in his shorts as I continued to tongue his sweet mouth. Any second thoughts were quickly forgotten as our lungs began laboring and his hands stroked first the bare flesh of my midriff, then the full mounds of my aching breasts, with my nipples chafing against the harsh fabric of a new bra. I reached down and lightly traced the bulge in his shorts with my fingernails. Pulling my face from his I gasped, "Mmmm, you wanna' fuck? Hmmm? Wanna' fuck me now, sweetie? Hmmm? I wantcha' to fuck me, Billy!" I emphasized, breathing into his face.

We broke apart and I rasped, "Lock the front door!" as I flipped the bolt on the back one. Then we walked quickly upstairs with me leading Billy by the hand, my hips swaying sexily and feeling his eyes on them as we went. In the bedroom I stripped to bra and panties as he doffed his sneakers and shorts. Mmm, again, no underwear, I noticed. I told him to lie on the bed as I removed my bra and panties, which he did while trying to hide his erect penis with a pillow. I must confess that the sight of his stiff cock didn't move me as much as I thought it would, since I'd seen it yesterday when he'd jerked off. Also, the whole gloryhole experience the night before, highlighted by two anonymous pricks, had rendered me less sensitive to the sight of strange male members than I would have been merely a few days ago. No, I was interested in Billy's whole body. It reminded me so much of Jack's, though Billy's is over twenty years younger. I was also interested in teasing this young man today, unmercifully, and in demonstrating my power over the sleazy, masculine impulse that for years had made him a drooling, secretive voyeur, masturbating at the distant, mirrored nude image of me in the darkness of his neighboring room. And, somewhere in my drugged brain I took note that my lifelong fear of men seemed to disappear when I was a little high...when I could take control.

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