"Ellen, no…"
"Shhh…" She leaned her forehead against mine and looked down, her fingers searching for the zipper on my jeans. The feel of her hands on me was maddening.
"Open my dress, James. The buttons on top. I want to feel your hands on me."
I moaned, unable to speak. I fumbled with the buttons until Ellen had to help me.
Some of the buttons were decorative, and some of them were real, and I was in no shape to figure out which was which. She got me started, watching my eyes as she exposed her chest to me, then letting me take over, enjoying my feverish clumsiness. I had to ignore her hands pulling my zipper down and reaching into my pants, trying to free my aching cock from my shorts.
I knew I had to stop her. I'd just see her breasts, let her grab my dick, and then we'd stop. We'd realize how wrong this was and stop, laugh nervously, and never mention it again. But by now her dress was open enough for me to draw it apart and see her naked breasts, full and aching to be touched, her exquisite nipples already standing up in eagerness for my lips.
I got the rest of the buttons open. I peeled the top of her dress down over her shoulders and dove at her breasts, kissing, sucking, on fire for her. Ellen let her head roll back and hissed with pleasure, shocking me with her wantonness. I was hers now and she knew it, without the strength to resist her. The gift of herself had done it. Her hand left what it was doing at my cock and came up to press my head against her yielding tits, basking in her victory.
"Oh god, yes!" she moaned, shuddering deliciously as I squeezed and sucked. "It has been a long time for you, hasn't it, baby? You're on fire. You shouldn't have to suffer like this, James. You deserve better. You deserve so much more."
I couldn't answer. I slid off the table in order to get my head lower so I could suck her tits into my mouth, and that eased the tension on my pants enough so Ellen was at last able to pull my naked cock out through my fly, free of my shorts, painfully erect. I felt the weird and salacious sensation of the cool air hitting my naked shaft, and then she took me in her hand and started to stroke me.
"Oh Christ, Ellen!" I gasped. "We shouldn't be doing this. We shouldn't. But, god, I can't help myself. I just can't!"
I smothered whatever else I was going to say with her naked flesh, sucking her nipple into my mouth and lashing it with my tongue as she gasped and groaned and pressed herself against my lips. Her hand started to work on me now, and then her other hand, both hands holding my prick, pumping it up and down.
"God you're so hard!" she gasped. "Do you always get so hard? It's for me, isn't it, baby? Tell me it's for me. You feel the same way I do, don't you James?"
It had been a long, long time since I'd done anything like this, masturbation being my only release, and the feel of Ellen's soft, sweet hands on my swollen prick was almost too much to endure. Her touch made me frantic, and the sight of that exquisite face suffused with lust was more than I could stand. I pulled her against me and kissed her feverishly, and all the time her hands never stopped pumping.
"Let me get my clothes off," she gasped. "I want you to fuck me, baby. I want to feel your cock in me, James."
"No!" I said, gritting my teeth. "No! We can't, Ellen. That's too much. We just can't."
She could tell I was serious, and she didn't argue. In truth I was almost panicked.
I was totally losing control of myself and I was afraid of what I might do.
"All right. All right, baby," she said breathlessly as she kissed my face. "Let me bring you off this way, okay? Just with my hand? Is that okay?"
"Yes," I gasped. "Just like that. Just do what you're doing."
Ellen moaned with pleasure and reached up and bit my lip, teasing it with her teeth, then let me go and said. "Suck my tits, James. My nipples. That drives me wild.
Please, baby."
I lowered my head while she frigged my cock, and we stood there in the shadowy room like that, our moans and gasps mingling in the darkness. She had gorgeous tits, big and firm and alive, with exquisitely sensitive nipples set way up high, and she was right-it did drive her wild when I sucked and bit down on them. She would gasp, grip my cock hard and pump me faster.
It was obscene. It would have been degrading if we both hadn't been so oblivious. I was so much older than she, a big, powerful man, standing there and nursing at her tits and groaning like a child while she beat me off-the most basic and juvenile act of sex there is, as if I were no more than a love-sick adolescent in the back seat of a car.
Maybe it was the role reversal that made it seem so perverse and forbidden, but I loved the way I was so helpless in her hands. It drove me wild, and I started sucking and even biting her breasts as she hissed with savage pleasure.
"Careful! Careful! No marks!" she cried. She was panting with excitement, but her hand never stopped.
I backed off. I was losing control. Her hands were pumping at me, working at me, and the end of my dick was streaming with juice, the pressure in my cock unbearable.
My balls had worked their way out of my fly and swung back and forth as she beat me off, potent and heavy.
"Give it to me, baby!" she whispered in my ear. "Come for me, James. Just let it go. Don't fight it. You know you want it. I want it too. I want this for you. Please, baby, please!"
I couldn't stand up any longer. I had to lean against the table, my hands on her shoulders for support. I pulled her close, buried my face in her neck like a child as she reached up and caressed the back of my neck, as if comforting me in my anguish. And still her other hand never stopped, sliding the skin up and down my steely shaft as if she were some sort of milking machine.
I felt the spasms start, the ineluctable slide towards orgasm. I cried out, a cry for mercy, a cry of alarm at my body's own betrayal.
"Oh fuck, Ellen! I'm going to come! You're going to make me come!"
"Yes!" she said joyously. "Yes, baby! Do it for me. Come for me, James!" She tightened her grip and increased her speed, baring her teeth as she felt my cock trembling in her hand, twitching with the first few, priming spasms.
"Aghhh!" I threw my head back and roared, punched my hips forward and exploded in a stream of scalding semen, jerking helplessly in her hand. Ellen held my cock up and moved aside so she could see the great gouts of cum arc from my cock 19
and shoot through the air, landing on the floor some feet away, their distance a measure of the force of my release, and each spurt accompanied by a savage spasm and a harsh groan from deep in my chest.
My body shook and shuddered as Ellen milked me insistently for all I had, humming and sighing to herself with approval.
At last I had to make her stop. I couldn't stand it anymore. She let go of me and backed away, just looking at me with her breasts heaving, then went into the other room and came back with some tissues and cleaned us off, taking special care to wipe my cum off the floor.
I stood there holding her for a long time, neither of us speaking. I felt like I had so much to say, but I didn't know where to start, and at last I just said, "I'd better go."
Ellen nodded, eyes down. I knew she had things to say too, but the whole situation was too shocking, too fragile for words. She buttoned up her dress and saw me to the back door, unlocked the locks and opened it.
Maybe I should have kissed her, but I was afraid now. What if she refused, or- worse-what if she threw herself at me? I said goodnight and she said goodnight. I didn't even take the bag of records with me.
I went back to the shop, of course. To stay away would have been too suspicious; an admission we'd done something wrong. By tacit agreement we didn't speak of it, not aloud, but it was there. I saw it in her eyes, in the way her touch lingered, in the silly awkwardness when we were alone, like two embarrassed adolescents. I avoided going back there at night after closing, though, and Ellen seemed to accept that. We both needed time to think.