Crossroads

Eric got up and turned off the stereo and turntable, put the record back in its sleeve and came back and sat beside Ellen.

No one spoke. I didn't know what to say. The feelings of loneliness and hunger evoked from Johnson's voice and guitar were too much with me, and I hardly noticed when Eric put his arm around Ellen in a husbandly gesture. He sat like that for a while, then leaned over and took her in a deep, passionate kiss; not the kind of kiss you see in public.

I sat there in shock, trying not to stare at them. Ellen didn't seem to take part, but she made no special attempt to get away either. Her hand rested lightly on Eric's shoulder, her head was back, and in the silence of the record's ending, it was almost like I could hear their tongues against each other. It was a terribly awkward feeling.

Eric broke the kiss and pressed his lips to her throat while his hand went to her knee and began to slide up her leg. Ellen made no move to stop him.

"I think I'd better get going, then," I said.

"No, stay," Eric replied. "We're all friends here, and we're celebrating, right? This isn't anything you haven't seen before, is it? An old cocksman like you?"

I cleared my throat nervously. "Still, two's company and three's a crowd..."

"Stay!" He barked the word out impatiently, then caught himself and grinned at me. "Please."

I wasn't used to being ordered around, but he caught me by surprise. Besides, the sorry truth was that watching him with Ellen was arousing in a perverse and morbid kind of way. It hurt, but it was exciting too, and I was curious as to just what was going on.

He kissed her again, and then his head slid down so that he was kissing her neck. His hand went to her breast, and he began openly caressing it, crushing the fabric in his hand right before my eyes. I felt the vicarious sensation from when I had held that very same breast, and still Ellen sat there, one hand lazily on his shoulder, the other on the sofa at her side. She was looking straight at me again, peering over Eric's shoulder, as if to see how I was taking it.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Eric said. "Perfect body too. Want to see?"

"Eric..." Ellen objected, but he wasn't listening. The little black dress she wore had no buttons. It wrapped around her and was held closed by a black sash, and despite her protest she sat there unmoving as Eric untied it and pulled the top open, exposing her naked breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra.

"Listen, I've really got to go," I said.

Eric looked over his shoulder at me. "That would be such a shame, Jimmy. I thought this was going to be a celebration, a special night."

He turned back to her and started kissing her tits. "She's crazy about you, you know," he said. Ellen closed her eyes, whether in pleasure or embarrassment, I couldn't tell. "I could see it from the start, and I'm not especially good at reading people, so you must know it too. We're all partners now. I thought we might make a night of it."

"Okay, that's enough." I stood up but he didn't stop.

He reached his head down and caught one of her nipples between his lips and sucked on it, doing it nice and slow so I got a good view, then let it slip from his mouth. "Just the other day she called out your name while we were fucking, didn't you, darling? I caught her on it. I told her if she wanted to pretend I was you, that was fine with me. Anything that would bring a little enthusiasm back to our lovemaking was okay with me."

He looked up at me. "That's when I first thought of us having a three-way. Don't you think that's a good idea? That way we each get what we want. And this little celebration is the perfect opportunity."

I knew I should leave, but I didn't. I stood there, knowing I was being had, knowing I was being used in some sort of game, but powerless to leave. Eric lowered his mouth to her nipple again and Ellen arched in pleasure, a little hiss escaping her lips. I might have left then, but when I looked at her she was gazing back at me over his shoulder, and the look in her eye said that I was the one she wanted. Eric might be kissing and fondling her, but Ellen's eyes said she wanted me to be doing it. She patted the seat next to her, showing where she wanted me to sit.

That look from her just shocked me so much that I sat right back down in my chair. I knew what Eric was doing now. He might not know what happened between Ellen and me, but he knew about our feelings for each other, and he was going to use them in this perfect, three-way deal. He'd give me Ellen in return for the record; at the same time he'd shame me with my desire for another man's wife. He'd prove to Ellen that she was a slut, and prove to me that she wasn't worth loving, and all under the guise of an innocent little sexual threesome.

And what made it all so galling was that he was right. The more he caressed and fondled her, the more aroused I got. Her eyes never left my face, even as she arched her back and rolled her breasts against his sucking mouth, or opened her legs to let his hand inside. She was into it. She was getting aroused, showing me what she had to offer, how she could be good for me. I couldn't believe how much I wanted her.

The record was forgotten. That hell bound train had left the station leaving us three behind, and Eric caught Ellen in a deep and passionate kiss, his hand working under her short dress as her legs first parted, then closed hard on his hand, and even though he was kissing her, her eyes were on me, begging me to join them.

She broke the kiss and looked away, just as Eric got his hands under her knees and pressed her legs up against her chest, so that I got a perfect view of her swollen pussy pressed between her thighs, barely shaded by her transparent panties. Her eyes blazed, knowing I had seen, and it was as if after all these months of being together and our session in the backroom, she now at last wanted to show me all of herself, and show me what she really wanted from me. I've seen my share of female genitals, but the sight of Ellen's pussy bulging against her sheer panties with Eric leaning over her struck me with terrific erotic force, more than even her sheer nakedness could have. Under her clothes she was naked for me, and she was waiting—had been waiting all this time.

He kept her legs pushed up against her breasts and her sex exposed as he kissed his way down her body, sliding down till he was kneeling on the floor. Ellen twisted her body as he sank down on her, finally throwing one bare leg over his back and grabbing his hair. She knew full well where he was going and what he was going to do, and she was eager for him to get on with it. Her dress was short, and Eric pushed it up over her stomach with both hands as he grabbed her ass and raised it off the sofa. The panties I had just glimpsed before were now fully on display as Ellen raised her hips and opened her thighs for Eric's mouth.

I sat there, horrified and aroused. It was all show for my benefit. I knew that, and if I had any doubts I only had to look at Ellen, slumped back against the couch with the top of her dress open and her breasts exposed. Her face had taken on a lewd and wanton look, and her eyes were smoldering as she stared straight at me. She let me see all the lust and desire in her face as Eric pulled the crotch of her panties to the side and began to eat her and she responded by lifting her hips in a slow, obscene rhythm.

I suppose I should have been horrified seeing the woman I loved treated this way. I suppose I should have listened to my pride and stormed out, insulted. But that wasn't my reaction at all. The sight of Ellen in such a state of lust, being pleasured by another man inflamed me.

I wanted her. It had been many years since I played the sexual athlete, but God, how I wanted her now! I'm not that prudish that seeing this slutty side of her put me off, nor am I gentleman enough that I wouldn't take advantage of the situation to get my prick inside her and give life to all those futile dreams and fantasies. But I didn't know if I could do it as part of a three-way. I didn't know if I could do it in front of Eric and let him use me to humiliate myself and degrade his wife.

In the end I didn't care. Ellen might be putting on a show for me, but her excitement was real. I could hear her moaning and see her fingers tighten in Eric's hair as she fucked her pussy against his face.

"Come one, James," Eric said over his shoulder to me. He kept his finger in her pussy, stirring it around and keeping her on the boil. "Or don't you think you can handle this young stuff any more? She wants you, don't you, darling?"

"Yes," Ellen said. "Yes, I want him."

The way she said it and the way she looked at me told me that we weren't the only ones being used here. Eric was using us, but I knew then that we were using him too. She wanted to fuck me. She wanted it in a way he hadn't imagined, not as some cheap roll in the hay, but as something more than that.

In my mind I heard the lyrics from the old Roosevelt Sykes classic, "Driving Wheel", the joyous song of a woman with the right man, the man she was meant to be with. Love like a runaway freight train, like a driving wheel. Sex that's more than sex, on a level Eric couldn't imagine.

I got up and Ellen squealed with excitement and started sliding down the sofa, making room for me and pushing Eric along with her. I didn't know what to do, so I just sat down on the couch at her head. This time she didn't meet my eyes. She was lying on her side with her legs spread, her dress up and Eric's head working at her pussy. Ellen's fingers reached for my zipper and she pulled it down.

Her mouth was all liquid heat, sweet and deep, and the breath from her nostrils scorched my pubic hair as she sucked me, moaning in her throat. Somehow she got my belt and my pants open, and I raised my ass and between the both of us we managed to get my pants far enough down my legs so that she could take my balls in her hand and hold them as she bobbed her head up and down on my cock. I looked down at her face, at that beautiful, angelic face, now slobbering over my hard cock, and I forgot about Eric. I forgot about everything. I put my head back against the sofa and just gave myself over to the workings of her mouth.

If I'd had any doubts as to how she felt about me, her mouth totally dispelled them. You can tell when a woman does it because you want her to, and when she does it because she wants it herself, because she's crazy for the feel of you in her mouth, and in this case it was definitely the latter. She didn't just suck me, she loved me. She kissed me and licked me and shielded me with her hand, as if she didn't want Eric to see, and she gripped my balls in her fingertips as if they were hers now, massaging me, getting the come ready for her greedy throat.

Seeing that innocent and exquisite face gorging on my cock, her nostrils flared, brows knitted in concentration, the saliva streaming out of the sides of her mouth, was almost more than I could take, and then glancing to the side, I saw Eric's face slaving between her thighs, her hand knotted so tightly in his hair that her knuckles were white. He had her top leg pushed up so he could really get in there, and the sight of her shoe hanging from her foot as he ate her was almost too erotic to bear.

"Oh God, Ellen! No! No!" I was almost ready to come and had to get her mouth off me.

Eric heard me and judged the time was right. "Come on, James. Fuck her. She's ready."

"Christ, Eric! I can't do this!" I pushed her away and stood up, feeling suddenly ridiculous with my pants around my thighs and my cock standing straight out.

He looked up at me, his lips smeared with her juice, his finger still in her pussy, pumping the first knuckle slowly in and out as if keeping her ready, as if she were a primed bitch ready for mounting.

"Don't be a jerk!" he said. "She wants it. She's dying for it, aren't you, baby?"

Ellen pushed him away and sat up, and Eric grabbed her panties and pulled them off her legs. They got stuck on one of her shoes, and she reached down and unhooked them, then threw them aside. She turned herself around and lay back down so that her head was near Eric, pointing away from me.

She didn't say anything, just stretched her arms out over her head, showing herself off to me. The dress was completely open now, showing off her naked body like a gem on a black velvet jeweler's tray. Right in the center, below her tight little stomach, was her neatly trimmed puff of pubic hair, just as I'd always pictured it, and below that, the bright pink of her labia.

But it was her eyes that did it. Her eyes that said she wanted me, that she didn't care about being on display, and she didn't care about Eric, or her pride. She'd thrown them all away for just this moment. She squeezed her legs together as if she couldn't stand it, stretched her body out and stared at me. I couldn't resist.

I stood at the foot of the sofa and shucked off my jacket, pulled off my tie and threw it on the floor, and started unbuttoning the cuffs of my shirt. Eric scooted over and grabbed my tie, picked it up and took it back to his end of the couch, where he wrapped it around Ellen's wrists, which were still thrust over her head.

It must have been some game that they played together or some sudden whim on Eric's part, but the tie around her wrists was the last piece I needed to turn me into a sexual animal. She was like a sacrifice now, an entirely willing sexual victim, and Eric squatted at the end of the sofa holding her down for me like an evil priest, offering his wife to me, waiting to see me take her.

I knew he was using me. He was playing with me like a matador plays with a bull, but I was in no condition to resist anymore. I didn't even bother to take my shirt off. I just tore it open so I could feel her tits against my chest. My pants and shorts were all bunched up right below my ass, but I didn't pay any attention to that either. I clumsily got on the sofa as she opened her legs for me.

There was such a tangle of clothing and body parts that I don't know how we did it, but I entered her effortlessly, the head of my cock sliding into the tight stricture of her sheath at the same moment she lifted her hips and impaled herself on me. She wailed with a cry of female pain and satisfaction, a cry that said I was everything she wanted, everything she'd been dying for.

I pushed hard, instinctively reaching for the depths within her. I felt the cold of my zipper trapped between us, pressing against her pussy, but I couldn't bother with that. I was in her, bathing in her warmth, and Ellen spread her legs and pushed her body up against me in that maddening expression of female acceptance, that wild and possessive hunger.

For a long moment neither of us moved, shocked at what we'd done. The deed was complete, there was no going back, and now nothing would ever be the same. Eric didn't know—he couldn't have known—but my cock went into her and she pushed herself up on it and both of us knew that everything had changed forever.

Eric let go of the tie but Ellen kept her hands right where they were, stretched over her head, rapturous at playing the victim. As Eric stood up I caught sight of his expression, strangely smug and self-satisfied, then he came around to stand over us and watch as I began to fuck his wife, powerless to stop. My hips came back and pushed into her, pushed into her again, each time harder, barely hanging on to my control. There was no way he could have imagined what was going through our minds.

He was still dressed though, and so after watching us for a while, he walked over to the chair and started leisurely taking off his clothes. I took advantage of his absence to put my lips by her ear and whisper, "Ellen, I'm sorry. Forgive me."

Her eyes showed no remorse, no need for an apology. They just glowed with sexual heat. "Don't be," she breathed so that only I could hear. "Just fuck me, James. I want it. I want you."

I wanted to kiss her. I was dying to take her mouth and shove my tongue down her throat and suck the sweet breath out of her, but I knew that was the one thing I couldn't do. As long as Eric was there, I couldn't kiss her.

"Move up a little bit," Eric said, coming back to the couch. "Give me room."

He was naked from the waist down, hard and erect, and he knelt on the sofa, putting one knee on the cushion next to her head. He held her bound wrists in one hand, and steered his cock towards her mouth with the other.

I couldn't watch. All sorts of weird things came into my head—rage and jealousy and even homosexual fear, male pride and disgust with myself for even taking part in this—but of course I couldn't ignore it, and as Eric took her hair in his other hand and forced her face up towards his waving cock, I had to look.

I levered myself up on my arms, trying to get as far away from the scene of her degradation as I could. Ellen was passive. She sucked him, but not like she'd sucked me, not with that greedy hunger, and she was no longer content to be his prisoner either. She wrenched her wrists from his grasp, and quickly worked her way free from the tie. She used one hand to hold Eric's prick and keep him at bay, and with the other she reached down and dug her nails into my ass, pulling me tight into her, showing me she wanted me there.

There was nothing I could do. I was the beggar at this banquet, and I couldn't very well push him off his own wife, and to my shame I began to get into it, feeling as if it were my cock that was fucking her mouth too, my cock she was sucking. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks hollowed. Maybe she was trying to make him come as quickly as she could, or maybe she enjoyed it too, and why not? Her husband and her lover at the same time.

I started fucking her hard, squeezing her tits and wanting to hurt her, slamming into her so that she grunted obscenely with every thrust and my passion seemed to ignite hers. She managed to suck his cock while her hips bucked up at mine in perfect synchronicity, her pussy reaching up to take me in again and again. Eric's face was intent, mad with lust, his eyes glued to her slaving lips as he combed her hair out of the way so he could watch every second of his wife's degradation. He must have been more aroused than either of us, because he quickly reached the breaking point, gasping and panting, shoving her hips against her face and making her wail.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck, you bitch! You filthy whore!"

He pulled his prick from her mouth and as Ellen tried to recover, he pumped himself once, twice, and began to ejaculate, holding her face still with his fingers tangled in her hair.

Ellen moaned. She tried to move her face but his grip was too tight, and as she gasped for breath he pumped stream after stream of white ejaculate over her lips and tongue, his cock jerking obscenely like a one-eyed monster. It was terrible. It was incendiary. His fury and his need to degrade her were obvious, and I got sick with myself for getting so aroused.

He let her go and staggered back, and Ellen immediately tried to wipe the come off her face with the back of her hand. Eric stood there in all his satisfied male glory, combing his hands through his hair, his chest heaving, looking at his wife's defiled face as the last drops of come seeped from his cock. He gave one short, nervous laugh and sat down heavily in the chair behind him.

I'd stopped when he started to come, and now I hung motionless over her as she tried to wipe his cream from her lips and face. For the first time I saw her shame and felt her remorse and humiliation, and out of my own confusion of feelings, my heart went out to her.

Eric stood up. "Go ahead. Finish her. Get your nuts off. I'm going to go get a drink."