I wanted her. It had been many years since I played the sexual athlete, but god, how I wanted her now! I wasn’t so prudish that seeing this slutty side of her put me off, nor was 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 on, 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 anymore? 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 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 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 cum 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."