Falling Ch. 12

"You look cold," Irene told me.

I realized she'd been looking at my butt, exposed beneath the crinolines and dress. The thought made me wet. Well, wetter, anyway. "You should talk," I teased back, hoping I'd read the humor in her voice correctly.

She ran her hands quickly down her body and looked a little concerned. "I do feel a little underdressed," she admitted. "I hate to ask, but do you have some mascara and eyeliner I could borrow?"

"Sure," I said, feeling breathless. I felt good being able to help out, and she'd look even hotter with a little more definition around her eyes. "Do you want me to just bring them here?"

"How about I just come with you?" Irene decided. "I'd like to see a little more, and I want to know where to find you."

I gave her the nickel tour; actually, it was the Richwell place, so it was more like the $5000 tour. Irene asked a lot of questions, but she always seemed to be looking at my ass; I put an extra sway into my step and put a lot more English into opening the doors than was needed.

"This is Mr. Richwell's suite," I told Irene, before opening one of the double doors. "It's very important he remain restrained at all times." I led her in. "Good morning, Mr. Richwell. I wanted to introduce Irene Calzetta; she's Linnea's new executive assistant. Irene, this is Mr. Richwell."

"Goddamn it, Linnea!" he raved. "What crap is this? How dare you profane my house with another of your sluttish, gold-digging 'friends'?" His hand strained for his beet-red erection, but was brought up short by the Velcro wristband.

"Oh, Daddy," I sighed without thinking. A sudden hard spank on my ass made me jump.

"Lily!" Irene looked appalled. "Show Mr. Richwell some respect!" She looked apologetically at the man in the bed. "I'm very sorry for Lily's behavior, sir. We won't disturb you any longer."

A firm hand steered me back out the door, but not before I saw Mr. Richwell's cock squirt onto his stomach. "I'm sorry, Irene," I said. "I wasn't thinking -- I don't know why I said that."

"It's okay," she replied. "He probably won't remember us in 5 minutes, anyway. But don't let yourself forget who he is or why he deserves our respect. None of this would be here if not for him."

"You're right," I admitted, feeling chastised. I tried to imagine what running everything single-handed would have been like, but failed. "Can you imagine?" I asked sheepishly. "It's taken three of us to replace him."

"Don't get too full of yourself, Lily," Irene admonished me, but she was smiling. "I'm sure the Richwells had maids before you."

"Sluts," I corrected her automatically. I tried to feel affronted, but couldn't really argue the point. I settled for heading more directly for my room.

"You live here?" Irene asked, sounding surprised. She looked at the bed and small desk, which was covered with papers. Clothing overflowed the small closet and dresser, and it would have been worse without the laundry downstairs.

"Of course," I replied, trying to straighten a few things. I hadn't expected a visitor. "You could ask Linnea for a room, too, if you wanted one."

Irene was picking up resumes, portfolio reports, and medical bills. "That might be nice," she said absently. "Is the rent much?"

I was embarrassed to say, "I don't know. I guess it's included." I couldn't even remember the number on my last paycheck.

"Oh, you poor girl," Irene laughed, not unkindly. "No wonder Linnea was so desperate for help! Running something this size isn't something you learn in consumer math. You almost had me fooled in the interview, but Linnea thought up those questions you asked, didn't she?"

"I -- yes," I admitted. She must have.

"Well, just run all these down to my office when you get a chance and I'll start sorting them out. I'll make sure there's nothing too embarrassing before discussing them with Linnea."

I'd somehow thought of myself as important and indispensable, but Irene's absent questioning had pierced my bubble of self-delusion. It was right that I was only Irene's assistant; I was lucky Linnea hadn't decided just to fire me! I choked back a sob as I wet myself.

"Lily! Did you just pee on the floor?!"

Blushing and looking at the floor, I nodded. Was it possible for me to screw up even more?

"God, you're a kinky slut," she commented. Her voice didn't hold the condemnation I'd expected. "Well, tell me where you keep your cosmetics and then go clean up."

I realized her good opinion was critical if I didn't want to lose my job. "In the top drawer of the dresser," I said, and then knelt to start licking. There really wasn't that much there.

Irene's brows rose, but she didn't comment. After watching a moment, she turned away and moved to the dresser. "What is this?" she asked me after rummaging inside. She held up a large black dildo. "Not mascara, I think," she smirked.

"It's not mine," I protested without thinking. "It belonged to a friend. Linnea" -- I stumbled on the name -- "doesn't let me masturbate."

"So I recall," Irene said, examining it closely. She sniffed, and then tasted the tip of it. "She said you liked your ass filled, too, didn't she?"

I think the heat in the room went up about ten degrees in half as many seconds. It was impossible to miss the signs of Irene's arousal; her nipples stood out and her lips glistened. I was just as excited.

"You've had this in your ass, haven't you, Lily?" she said, approaching me with feigned casualness.

"Maybe," I whispered. I honestly couldn't remember. Did I know a Michael?

Irene laughed again, misunderstanding me. "You don't have to lie to me. As long as I'm holding it, it isn't masturbation, is it?"

I felt the tip of it trace a path along my bun to the crack of my ass, and arched my back, extending my butt as high as I could. "Please," I gasped, on fire. I couldn't remember the last time I'd cum, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

She probed further, teasing my anus but holding the dildo so loosely I couldn't push it into my needy back door. "Your ass is so hot," Irene sighed breathlessly. A hand flipped up the hem of my dress, completely exposing me, and Irene landed a few lazy lashes with the length of the dildo, making my bell jingle and my pussy drip.

For my part, I moaned and closed my eyes, straining to offer myself to her more fully.

Her hand caressed my sensitized skin, and then dipped between my legs to probe briefly within my swollen folds. The fingers slowly retreated, tracing cool trails on my heated flesh. I dry-humped the air, helpless to control myself.

"Needy little Lily-slut," Irene teased. "Your sweet rosebud is just aching to suck this bad boy in, isn't it?" The dildo was back, pushing ever so slowly into me, but her hand was there to keep me from thrusting myself onto it.

I rested my head on the floor and panted. It wasn't just the physical stimulation, although that was damn good -- Irene clearly knew her way around an ass. It was her running commentary and the manner in which she simultaneously admired and teased my burning body.

She twisted the intruder within me, angling it from side to side, filling and stretching me deliciously. "What a greedy hole you have, Lily," Irene husked. I could smell her arousal beside me. "You look so perfect; you were made to take cocks, to swallow them in your hot ass. Big cocks, forcing themselves into your tight butt. Oh God, it's so much better than your pussy, thrusting in your ass, your dirty ass, fucking your ass!"

Irene's hand was trembling violently, which only made her reaming feel even better. I would have fallen over, but the only thing not on the floor was my skewered rear end. Creaming and gasping for air, I teetered on the edge of a gigantic orgasm.

"Jenny," thought my traitor mind, and I lost it completely.

Feeling me go, Irene stepped up her assault and began pistoning the dildo fiercely into me, so aggressively I thought her fist might leave bruises on the bottom of each stroke. She was panting raggedly and mumbling, but the only word I could make out was "ass" -- which she used repeatedly.

I could have wallowed that way for much longer, but Irene unexpectedly released her grip and I did fall over, with the dildo still buried inside my rectum. I looked up at her and saw she was crazy turned-on.

Her naked body was covered with a light sheen of perspiration; her face was flushed and the color extended well down to her breasts. The nipples capping them extended rigidly and she was so wet between her legs an onlooker would have been forgiven for thinking she, not I, had peed herself.

Those oversized globes mesmerized me, but Irene had other ideas. "I need you, Lily," she panted. "God, how I need you." She pushed urgently at me until I rolled the rest of the way onto my back, and then swung a leg over so she was crouched atop me.

"Rim me," she ordered. "Work that slut tongue up my ass. Hurry!"

I remembered what she'd shared. I wasn't supposed to masturbate; she couldn't. Well, not and get off on it, anyway. Of course I would have helped, even if my continued employment hadn't depended on brown-nosing my boss. The thought prompted a giggle I couldn't stifle.

"Lily!" Irene impatiently hissed, and ground herself against my face.

She was such an easy lay. I'd barely gotten the tip of my tongue into her before she exploded like a bomb. "Don't stop!" she screamed, loud enough I could have heard her from down the hall.

I started sawing my tongue in and out of her pulsing back door, to Irene's evident delight. In a way, it really was the same as eating out -- Linnea -- and I'd been able to do that for hours. I wasn't getting as much out of it as she was, but doing such a good job of servicing her was turning me on again.

Greatly daring, I surreptitiously reached for my throbbing clit. I was disappointed, but not surprised, when Irene redirected it and pinned my hand beneath her leg. That just intensified my delight when she began to caress the rings around my clit. I bucked underneath Irene and started sucking and blowing, repaying her attentions.

When Irene finally stood up, I figured the honors had been about even. "We'll be doing more of that," she told me with a big smile of approval. "I can see you'll be an excellent assistant, Lily."

"Thank you, Irene," I responded while climbing to my feet. "I think I'm going to love working under you, too." I winked and she laughed. She just seemed less tightly wound than Linnea.

"Oh, no!" she scolded when I started to remove the dildo from my butt. "Leave that alone; here." Irene pulled me in front of the full-length mirror on the wall and brushed at my dress until it was straightened, and then pulled gingerly on the black cock until it was about half out and the end protruded slightly from my crinolines. "That'll do, for now. Your ass looks so good with something in it."

"Okay," I said, wondering how long she'd expect me to keep it in. Oh well; she was the boss. "Anything else?"

"Well, no masturbating, of course. And perhaps you should ask Linnea about a room for me, and access to the expense account. We'll need a few changes." She stopped me before I could take the first step. "No, on second thought, I'll speak to her myself after I get fixed up. Have lunch ready in my office at noon -- something light; maybe a half sandwich and some vegetable soup."

Luckily she hadn't asked for anything weird. I answered, "Sure," sounding upbeat and positive. "For two?" Irene nodded and turned back to the cosmetics; I started for the kitchen in a good mood. It was early still, but I thought I was going to enjoy being Irene's assistant; I'd have to thank Linnea the next time I saw her.