Hair Trigger Clit

I was having another orgasm when I noticed that we were at the edge of the dance floor and only a few steps away from the door to what I understood from the other time I had been here was Chauncey's study. It had been the only room on the first floor off-limits the first time I was there, and there was a hanging sign on the door knob. I couldn't read the sign but the last time I was there a sign said "Private Please."

Before I came down from my second orgasm Nick and I were inside the study. He was now seriously fingering my big sensitive clit, under my dress. My clit was as hair trigger as it had ever been; I tried to analyze why but the rushing endorphins generated by my arousal had taken control of my brain.

I remember lying on my back on a mattress on the floor with only my high heels on with Nick sucking and licking my clit like it was the most fun thing that he had ever done in his life as I had an almost constant orgasm. I remember him standing and quickly removing his clothes, a fleeting thought that his cock was the perfect size and beautiful and that his balls seemed unusually large, and then feeling the penetration.

My pussy pulsed as forcefully and frequently as I could ever remember, I writhed like a captured snake, and he groaned as he pummeled the shit out of me. He shortly ejaculated an enormous load into my soaking wet pussy as his dick was positioned to stimulate my clit as he stroked. I know that I temporarily passed out the orgasm was so powerful, not surprising since it had been preceded by at least a dozen intense ones.

I was snapped out of my lethargy by a tongue on my clit and mumblings of "Holy Shit." It didn't sound like Nick. It wasn't.

Even in the low light in the room I could see Chauncey with a shit eating grin on his face licking my clit. Suddenly a finger also started stimulating my clit, although it wasn't Chauncey's. It was some other wide-eyed guy who I had seen eyeing me at the party but didn't know. Soon Chauncey was pumping his dick in and out of my cunt while the other guy continued to stimulate my clit, making me incapable of protesting even though this was about the last thing on earth I wanted to happen.

Although my perception of everything that happened lacks clarity, I believe that aside from Nick five other guys fucked me, each one while someone else was stimulating my clit. I was completely worn out and sore, and probably looked comatose although I still could hear noises around me. I distinctly heard a voice I didn't recognize say "Wow; that was all time," followed by Chauncey's voice saying, "Yeah, I'm gonna tap that Megaclit bitch as often as I can once Darren divorces her."

I regained awareness shortly after I heard the door click shut. The room was quiet even though I could still hear the music and voices from the party. I got myself together as best that I could, found my purse discarded at the foot of the mattress lying in the middle of the floor. My purse was on top of my dress and bra. I fished out my cell phone and called a cab. I dressed, tried to straighten myself out, and as discretely as possible exited the room. I went right to the front door, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, and soon was out on the entrance end of the big circular driveway crying while waiting for the taxi.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my arm. "Hey, Cheryl; why are you leaving early?"

It was Nick's voice. When I turned he seemed genuinely surprised by my tears.

"Because I was gang-bang raped you asshole," I screamed, pulling my arm away from him, "including by you."

He now seemed shocked.

"What the Hell?" he asked while holding his hands up in a "I won't touch you" gesture.

I saw the taxi approaching. I ran to it, the driver stopped, I got in and said "Get me out of here as quickly as possible," and gave him my address. Nick was staring at the car as we drove away. I tried not to look back.

The foremost question in my mind as I was riding in the cab was "Why didn't my desensitizing chemical work?" It was then that I remembered my initial perception - which I dismissed at the time - that it had felt a little different when I applied it.

Then I thought about Nick saying that he knew Darren, and doing all of the right things to get me uncontrollably hot if I had no chemical or pad. And how had Chauncey "magically" appeared in the study after Nick was done with me, and how did a mattress come to be in the middle of a floor of what should have been a work room?

By the time I got home twenty minutes later and paid the driver my head was almost clear and I was anxious and pissed. I immediately went to where I kept my desensitizing chemical. I smelled it, put some on my finger, and poured some in a glass to get a good look at it. It was my normal chemical - but maybe Darren had switched it when he went back into the house supposedly to retrieve his wallet?

Darren was not the cleverest guy in the world. I immediately thought of a dozen places that he could have hidden a bottle of fake chemical - but maybe he just threw it out. The first thing that I did was to inspect the garbage receptacle in the kitchen. There, under a few wet paper towel sheets, was a bottle that looked just like my chemical bottle. I got out a rubber glove from under the sink, picked up the bottle with it, and put the bottle in a plastic food storage bag.

I'm no CSI, but I do watch TV crime shows, and I also work in a lab. I planned to have the bottle analyzed for prints and DNA, and the liquid inside it tested.

I then started thinking back to other possible unusual events in the recent past. Soon the comment Chauncey had made a while back about The New England Journal of Medicine came to mind. I immediately went to the place where I kept my copy of the Journal that had the article about me in it, and the DVD. Both were in the box at the back of the top shelf of my closet where I had put them, but they were the top items in the box. I NEVER put them as the top item. I always had the magazines and photos which were now underneath them on top of them. I carefully picked up the DVD case - which I had never let Darren handle - with my rubber glove on and put it in another plastic food storage bag.

I changed clothes, packed a large suitcase which included all of my valuables, chemicals, and pads; grabbed my notebook computer; got in my car; and took off for a hotel near my office.

Darren called my cell phone shortly after I checked into the Four Seasons. I saw no reason not to answer.

"Where are you, you slut; fucking some other guys?" he yelled, I guess figuring that a good offense was the best defense. His comment confirmed even more what I suspected had happened.

"Whatever do you mean darling dearest?" I sweetly replied.

"You know damn well what I mean. Chauncey told me about how you came on to him and showed me the video of you getting gang banged, you whore. I'll be divorcing your ass and enforcing the pre-nup come Monday," he growled.

"You may want to hold up on that a little while, sugar?" I even more sweetly replied.

"And why in the fuck is that?" he screamed.

"Because it might land you in jail after I test the chemical and the bottle and DVD case for DNA and fingerprints you fucking mental midget, that's why!" I screamed back, terminated the call, and turned my cellphone off and even removed the battery - maybe I watch too much TV, but why not go all the way!

Early Sunday morning I called the home of the head of security of the lab I work at. He wasn't thrilled to hear from me but we had a good relationship and when I gave him a synopsis of my problem he became cooperative. He agreed to meet me at my lab within the hour and put my plastic bagged items in the safe in his office. He used to be a homicide cop before he retired, and marked up my baggies just like they do evidence on crime shows.

When I got to my office the next morning I saw Darren's car in the lot. I knew he would not have been able to get into the building - since it is a secure medical facility - unless I was there. I called the guard station, confirmed that he was waiting outside the front door, and told the guard I talked to to be sure that he never got in. Then I asked one of the guards to open the normally inaccessible and alarmed back door so that I could enter. He grumbled a little, but complied.

After I entered through the back door, I went with the guard to the front desk to sign in. I then knocked on the inside of the front door and waved at Darren with a big smile on my face, then turned and walked to my office to the sound of him banging on the door and yelling something that I couldn't make out.

Darren called my office phone. I picked up. "I don't know what game you're playing, bitch, but I'm not afraid of you. I've got all the evidence I need in the video and Chauncey's testimony. Make things easy for yourself and just agree to the divorce and the pre-nup conditions and I won't embarrass you by including the video as part of my filings," he grumbled, although with a clear hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Have you checked to see if your bottle is still in the trash? Have you located the DVD in the box that you returned it to after you showed it to Chauncey and others? If not, FUCK you and look forward to a Bubba being your cell mate, asshole!" The two questions I asked in a sickly sweet voice. The statement I shrieked.

My immediate supervisor was good friends with the director of the crime lab that did overflow work for the city, county and state police forces. They were happy to pick up and test my samples. If they had trouble determining what the chemical was they had a freelance retired chemist who could do it for them. They offered to do it gratis, but I insisted that I be charged their normal fees. "I don't want there to be any hint that what you find is tainted," I said. They picked up my baggies from the Security Chief's safe the same day.

That afternoon I got a surprise call. "Mrs. McNealy, this is Roger at the guard station. A guy by the name of Nick Greer is here to see you. He says that he doesn't have an appointment but that it is urgent that he talk to you."

I paused long enough so that the guard asked "Mrs. McNealy - are you still there?"

"Yes, sorry Roger," I replied. "What the hell is this," ran through my mind. I don't know why, but I decided to meet with him.

"Is there an unsecure conference room available, Roger?" I asked. There are three conference rooms that can be used by staff with vendors, or others, who we do not want to admit to the secure parts of our facility but who we want to talk with nevertheless.

"Yes ma'am; Room B."

"OK, Roger; please seat Mr. Greer in Unsecure Conference Room B and I'll be down in a few minutes."

I finished up the last sentence of the report I was writing then went into the ladies room to see if I looked presentable. "Why in the hell are you worried about that," I chastised myself, to no avail.

My demeanor was cold when I walked into the conference room. "I wasn't expecting to see you again, Mr. Greer. You have - pardon the expression - big balls to come here; plus how did you even know where I worked?"

"You're the only Cheryl Sue McNealy in the state, and I think that you know that I have big balls," he said with a grin. When I didn't smile outwardly, although I did inwardly, he said "Sorry, just an attempt at humor to break the ice. I'll get right to the point."

"I'd appreciate that," I replied with arms folded in front of me.

"After you left Chauncey's party, I got the distinct impression that part of what I was told about you may not be true. I confronted your husband and Chauncey about it, but they assured me that your abrupt departure with tears was an act on your part - part of the game."

"What fucking game?" I sneered.

"That's exactly what it allegedly was, a 'fucking' game," he responded without missing a beat.

"Chauncey Van Hoist is a client of mine. He and your husband came to my office about a week ago. Chauncey knew that I had just gotten out of a destructive relationship and was just looking for a good piece of ass that I didn't have to pay for or have complications with. They told me you were just the person."

I raised my eyebrows and crossed my arms more tightly.

"Darren said that you and he had an open marriage, that you were sexually insatiable, that you had an unusual physical feature that would drive me wild, and that you loved to have surprise gang bangs arranged for you. He said that you truly liked them to be a surprise and not with the same people that you normally did them with. They showed me a DVD of your - 'unusual' equipment - and a photograph of you in a bikini."

I couldn't fucking believe what he was saying - not that he was lying, just that it was so fucking awful - and wanted to scream. However, I controlled myself and just listened with my stomach in a knot.

"I was interested, but wondered whether a hot chick like you really was interested in this shit, and why they wanted me to be point man on the next escapade. They gave me the names and numbers of two of your female friends and told me to call them, giving any pretext I wanted, and ask about you, and they would find out what I was saying was true."

I could contain myself no longer. "Did you?"

"Yes; well I called one of them; Constance Danner."

"That fucking bitch?" I yelled. She was one of Chauncey's snooty friends who had never given me the time of day, and who I despised.

"Yeah; well she confirmed everything that I could delicately confirm - without asking her if she had witnessed one of your gang bangs. Plus, I was VERY intrigued by your appearance, both in a bikini and - well," he now was blushing. "Well, uh, and your unusual physical feature. They said that they wanted me to be the one pretending to seduce you since you would find it thrilling because you didn't know me but would consider me handsome, and I would be first in the gang bang."

With that he got quiet for a second and cast his eyes on the ground. When he lifted his head back up he continued. "Looking back in hindsight I was gullible; but I guess that I really wanted to believe it at the time; and it was the best sex of my life. That's why I came after you when I saw you leave. I wanted to make arrangements for just the two of us to hook up."

After another sheepish pause he said "One more thing; I didn't know that they were filming it. I only found out later and demanded that they remove me from the video - which they did, in my presence."

A sudden calm came over me. Nick's story either confirmed or expanded upon every evil deed or intent I had attributed to Darren and Chauncey. "Why are you telling me this?" I inquired.

"Because I know that they lied to me and I want to do anything possible to help you."

"Anything?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied without equivocation.

"Even giving testimony? Losing Chauncey as a client?"

"I've already decided to jettison Chauncey, and yes, I'll give testimony. I know that I'm not going to come out of this smelling like a rose, but I have to do the right thing, and if that means testifying, so be it."

I smiled. "Meet me at my attorney's office once I get an appointment. Please give me your cell phone number and I'll call you."

Without hesitation, he reached into the interior pocket of his stylish suit jacket, pulled out a gold business card case, took out one of his cards and wrote his cell phone number on the back. "Please don't share my number with anyone else."

"Deal," I replied. "Thanks for coming in," I said while extending my hand.

Instead of shaking my hand he held it and kissed it. "I'm truly sorry," he said, then quickly disappeared.

Even though I was wearing one of my pads I felt a tingle in my still sore nether regions.

I got a recommendation from my Lab's attorney for a divorce lawyer, a woman with the alliterative name of Liza Litton, and called her up. She could see me Wednesday at 4:00 p. m. I explained the situation to her and asked if I should have Nick accompany me. Liza quickly responded "Yes, and tell him I'm going to do a quick video deposition."

I called Nick and he was good to go. I gave him Liza's address.

Nick couldn't have been more cooperative. Liza could not have been more ga-ga when she took Nick's video deposition. After he left she said "I'm sorry, but I have to get someone else form my office to handle this."

"Why?" I asked.

"Didn't you see what a fool I made of myself? I'm divorced, haven't been lad in several months, and that is the tastiest hunk I've ever seen in my life. I'll continue to make an ass of myself around him, and you don't want that, believe me. Dan Watson is the best we have - I'll introduce you."

And so I came to have Dan Watson as my divorce attorney.

He was good. He was quick on the uptake, and had several excellent contingency plans devised by the time that I left, two hours after meeting him. I apologized for keeping him in the office until 7:00 p. m."

"No problem; I'm going to love this case," he grinned. "Let me know as soon as the lab results come back so that I'll know which contingency plan to implement."

Darren had not served me with divorce papers yet. I didn't know if he was heeding my advice or if just couldn't find me. I decided to let him know where I was. I called him after I ate dinner that Wednesday night.

"I understand that you met with Nick Greer and got him to lie for you," he started out the conversation. "You really know how to use your mega-clit to your advantage don't you," he sneered.

I just laughed.

He changed his tune. "Look, we don't want a blood bath, do we? Even though I could get 80% of our assets by enforcing the pre-nup, let's settle this quickly and I'll just take 60% and we'll be done with each other."

I laughed again. "I know you, asshole - though apparently not as well as I thought given the absolutely dastardly thing that you did to me. However, I know enough to know that you've got your eye on one of your snooty rich friends to marry and let you live a life of luxury, otherwise you wouldn't have gone through all the trouble that you have. So I tell you what. I'll give you until the DNA and fingerprint test results come back on the DVD case and chemical bottle to accept 25% of our assets and I won't bring any charges against you; but tell your butt-buddy Chauncey that he's going to pay me a quarter of a million dollars otherwise I'm going after him big time both criminally and in civil court."

There was silence. "When will the test results be back?" he asked.

"A week from today," I responded. They really were coming back Monday but I wanted to know the strength of my case before a final discussion. "Next Wednesday morning you and your butt-buddy either tell me 'Yes,' or file your divorce papers; you can serve my attorney. His name is Dan Watson - tell yours." With that I terminated the call.

I did get the test results back Monday. Darren's fingerprints were in the system and matched fingerprints on both the DVD case and bottle. DNA on both of them also matched the DNA sample of Darren's that I had gotten from his hairbrush and given to the lab. The chemical in the bottle was not just inert - it actually had a slight sensitizing effect, so not only was it not desensitizing me, it was making my condition even worse when I applied it to my clit that Saturday night.

Wednesday morning Darren called me with Chauncey on the line. Chauncey tried to wiggle out of paying me, and Darren supported his supposed lack of knowledge; but I wasn't buying any bullshit. "Say yes in twenty seconds, asshole, or my attorney will have a suit on file by the end of the week, and will also call the cops," I yelled at Chauncey. A meek "Yes," shortly followed.

All of the settlement papers were ready that Friday - neither my attorney nor I wasted any time. The papers did provide that if the video of me getting gang-banged ever saw the light of day that each of Darren and Chauncey would owe me $500,000. After the papers were signed and notarized Darren coldly said to me "You know that I never loved you. You were just great sex to me." It hurt - but then I wondered if I had ever loved Darren. I didn't reply.