Crossroads

He walked into the kitchen. My cock was still inside her, but neither of us was moving, then I felt her body shake with one great sob.

I probably should have stopped then. I should have just pulled out of her and cleaned myself off and gone on my way, ashamed and chagrined, just as Eric had planned, but I couldn't leave her like that. I couldn't forget the things she'd given me, or the things she'd made me feel. Things like that don't lie. Not like their marriage lied.

Her face was to the side. She was trying to spit out his come, still wiping her mouth. I grabbed her wrists and stopped her. I took her face in my hand and turned it to me, forcing her to look at me, even as she tried to twist away. I held her like that and I kissed her. I kissed her hard and deep, my tongue plunging into her mouth even as she tried to block me with her own tongue, trying to hide her shame. I tasted her husband's seed in her mouth and I wouldn't let her get away. I made her kiss me, and I shoved my cock into her, and with a deep, shuddering sob, she threw her arms around my back and kissed me back.

We broke the kiss just as the kitchen door swung open and Eric came in, stark naked, a fresh drink in his hand. He sat down in the same chair. "Don't let me bother you two," he said. "You're really something."

I was torn between my self-consciousness and my incredible lust. I tried to ignore him. Ellen did too, but it was futile. It was impossible to go on under his steady gaze.

"You really are beautiful," Eric said to Ellen. "I wish you would've fucked me like that, but I guess it's never going to happen now, is it?"

Neither of us answered. We'd stopped now. I could feel myself starting to shrink, just as I noticed Eric growing until he was hard again. He must have found the sight of his wife with another man to be particularly arousing.

He got out of his chair. "Get up. Both of you. James, why don't you get your clothes off and get comfortable? Ellen, you too. We don't want to ruin your dress."

He stood up and left the room.

I had no idea what he was up to, but going on under these conditions seemed pointless, so I did as he said, climbing off Ellen and standing up. The tide of lust that had been so ready to drown us both now receded, and I stood there feeling self-conscious and not a little ashamed. Ellen slid out of her dress, picked it up and folded it, then laid it on the coffee table. She sat back down on the sofa and tried to smile at me.

"Okay," Eric said, coming back into the room with something in his hand. "James, sit on the sofa. My lovely wife, straddle him, cock inside. It used to be one of your favorite positions, darling. Back when we were still fucking."

Ellen gave him a hateful look. This was still Eric's show and we couldn't just walk out. At least she couldn't. I could have. I could have walked out of their lives right then and there, but I didn't. Ellen had stood up and was fastening her hair on top of her head. It was warm in there, and I suppose she wanted her hair off her neck, and seeing that innocent and commonplace gesture performed by this woman about to fuck two men again made my balls suddenly tingle and my stomach grow tight. I didn't know how she could be so calm, so dispassionate.

Ellen pushed me down on the sofa, right where Eric had indicated. Her face was absolutely calm as she put her knees on the cushions on either side of me, took hold of my resurrected prick, and adjusted herself over me.

I realized then that this would be her last time with Eric. She was paying him off, giving him his one last shot.

"I know what he wants," she said to me. "He wants me to beg him not to, but I'm not going to. I'm not his possession. Stay with me, James. Will you stay with me?"

I wasn't sure what was happening, but I said, "Whatever you want."

"Yeah. Stay with her, James. You won't want to miss this."

She rose up on her knees and I groaned as she ran the head of my fully erect cock up and down her soaked crease, opening herself up for me, wetting me and getting me ready. Then she sunk down on me, gasping with pleasure, her hands on my shoulders.

I didn't have to do anything. Ellen pushed herself down on top of me, enclosing me in her delicious heat. I let my head fall back with a groan of pleasure, and immediately felt her lips on mine, kissing, nipping, rubbing and sighing with salacious pleasure. Whatever prohibition we'd had against kissing in front of Eric was now gone, and as soon as I responded to her kiss, Ellen grabbed my hair in her hands and began kissing me ravenously.

"Agghhh!" Ellen suddenly tensed and rose up on my cock, but she kept her lips pressed against mine. I could see Eric kneeling behind her, and I realized what he was doing. He was greasing her up. The thing in his hand was a jar of lubricant, and now he was greasing her up, smearing it around her ass.

I started to get up. I couldn't let him do this, but Ellen kept her mouth glued to mine and dug her nails into my shoulders in warning.

"Let him," she whispered into my mouth. "I knew it would come to this. Just be there for me, James. Just hold me and let him do it. It'll be just us two, like he's not even there, and then it'll be over."

"Jesus, Ellen! How can you...?"

Eric spoke: "Better listen to her, James. She knows what she's talking about. I don't want much. I just want what's mine. And so far she's still mine."

Ellen winced again, stifling a groan and pulling me tight against her so that her tits pressed hard against my chest, and I knew that Eric has shoved another finger into her ass and was twisting them around, stretching her. Her brows furrowed and she gasped as she tried to get used to him, but her entire body was tense, her hands shaking.

"Better now," she gasped. "It's better now. That's the worst part. It's better now."

Eric got to his feet, stood close behind her and rested his knees against the edge of the couch, between my own spread legs. He had one hand on his cock, smearing lube on it, the other on Ellen's shoulder.

"Slide forward," he told me, and I did as he said. "Now open her up for me. Spread her cheeks."

"Christ, Eric!"

"Do as he says, James." Ellen leaned forward, holding on to the back edge of the sofa.

The crack of her ass was greasy, smeared with lubricant, and I had to wipe my hands on the sofa before I could get a grip on her buttocks. I spread her apart, wincing in agony as if I were the one about to be impaled, and Ellen took her weight off me, getting up on her knees and half-lying on my body. She slid her hands into my hair and held onto my head, her mouth right at my ear so I could hear her every breath as Eric got his prick in place and started pushing into her.

She yelped, her body jerking as if she'd been struck. "Ow! Slow, damn you! Slow!" she hissed over her shoulder.

My eyes went wide. I could see Eric's face over her right shoulder, tense and furious with concentration as he pushed his greasy prick into her asshole. I felt chills. Ellen's nipples were like diamonds against my chest.

Eric groaned, a wicked, predatory smile on his face. "Oh yeah. She's good back here. Fucking tight!"

Ellen pressed her face into my shoulder and moaned, then raised her head and looked at me, her eyes cloudy with pain. "Kiss me!" she gasped. "Kiss me!"

She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing her groan. She wanted me to plug her mouth with mine, muffle any noise she might make as his big cock slithered up into her ass.

I kissed her. I put my hand on the back of her head, and held her face to mine, though it was hardlynecessary. She already had her hands full of my hair, and was holding my face against hers, kissing and lickong my mouth in an open-mouthed frenzy as her husband fucked her ass.

Eric tensed. I could feel the tightness in his body communicated through Ellen. He tensed again, and then it was my turn to cry out, because now I could feel Eric's big tool sliding into her. I could feel it in the way it made her pussy tighten on my prick, and then I could feel that thick, muscular shaft directly, plowing into her insides, right through the wall of her canal.

"Oh Christ!" I moaned. "I can feel him!"

But if I could feel him, what must Ellen have been feeling? Her face was down now, her forehead pressed against mine, ass thrust out, my prick still firmly ensconced inside that tight, quivering sheath. She was panting like a woman in labor, mouth open, eyes clenched shut against the pain, but I knew the worst was over.

"There, baby," she whispered hotly in my ear. "He's in me. It's over. It's okay. I'm okay."

Again that night my emotions felt ripped out of me, torn and shredded in wild confusion. I loved this woman. I knew that now, and I wanted to protect her, but what right did I have? What claim did I have on her? Stuck at the bottom of this obscene sandwich, with the weight of both their bodies on top of me, there was nothing I could do but sit there and witness what he was doing to her.

Ellen's hair had come undone and hung down in big, unruly hanks. Her face was filmed with perspiration, her lips dry with pain, but slowly she lifted herself up, pushing herself off me with her hands on my shoulders. She pushed herself upright and looked back at Eric.

"Fuck me, you son of a bitch! I can take it now. Do it!"

Eric squatted behind her, his hands on her shoulders. His face was a dark mask of fury and revenge, and I felt him screw his dick around inside her. I could feel every move he made in the way Ellen's pussy moved around me. I could feel the hard mass of his prick pressing against mine through the rubbery wall of her sheath. It was almost as if I were getting fucked too.

He began to pump into her, the head of his cock pushing against the bottom of my own shaft, and it was more than I could stand. I grabbed hold of her thighs and began to join him, fucking up into that tight pussy as Eric shoved into her ass. I didn't want to hurt her, didn't even want to be a party to this, but she just felt so good and so tight, and the sight of her being taken this way was just maddening. The woman I loved—a whore, a slut, taking two cocks at once.

Eric must have felt her acceptance and lack of resistance. He began to fuck her hard, growling and grunting with the effort as his belly slapped against her ass and he sent his big shaft sliding into her rectum. She collapsed over me, seeking my mouth, even as her body bucked and jerked with every savage thrust.

She kissed me feverishly, frantically, showing me with her mouth everything he was making her feel. His cock was sliding and pushing against mine through the walls of her vagina, and I could clearly feel his rage and anger in the way he fucked her, but she was right: it was as if we were alone, as if he weren't even there, as if he were some sex toy or dildo plugged into her ass. He might have her body, he might be fucking her ass, but her feelings and emotions belonged only to me. She shared them only with me.

"Hold me, James! Hold me! He's going to come! He's getting ready to come!" Her words were breathless, clipped, gasped out of her slack lips, but I could look up at Eric's face and see that she was right. His face was dark with suffused blood, furious, on the very edge of release.

"Ahh! Fuck!" he growled. "Fucking bitch! Take my come! Take me!"

Ellen squealed, rose up on her knees and pressed herself against me.

"Hold me, baby! Hold me!"

I felt him come. I felt that big, hard mass pressing against my own cock throb and jerk, felt Eric's frantic thrusts into Ellen's body, and I knew he was spitting his come into her ass. I pressed her mouth to mine and shoved my tongue into her as if I could taste him if I went deep enough. I held her with all my strength.

The throbbing stopped. I felt the pressure relent as he shrunk inside of her, and as he did, Ellen's body started to relax as well.

Eric pulled out of her and got shakily to his feet. He looked down at us with something like contempt, then went to the chair and sat down.

I knew then that he was done. Whatever hold he'd had over her—whatever respect she'd felt for him—was over and done with. Ellen stayed pressed against me, her lips locked against mine. I felt Eric's semen running down over my balls, still warm from her body, but Ellen didn't even seem to notice it. She only had eyes for me.

She began to fuck me, moving her bruised and battered body over me, squeezing me inside and drawing me into her. It was all over now. All the deals had been made; all the debts had been paid. Now it was just her and me fucking, feverishly intent on sucking the joy from each other's body.

I grabbed onto her ass and began to guide her up and down, faster and faster, making her ride me like a jockey in the home stretch. I began to fuck up into her with a strength I didn't know I possessed, knocking the breath from her body and mashing her pussy flat in my frenzy of possession. Ellen held onto me for dear life, her arms wrapped around my head as if in danger of being thrown off, and soon I was pistoning up into her with terrible speed, my loins smacking against her with an obscene slapping sound.

"Oh fuck!" I shouted, not caring who heard. "I'm coming, Ellen! I'm coming!"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she screamed and then covered my mouth with hers, pressed herself against me as I exploded into her in a ripping, ferocious orgasm, conscious of nothing but Ellen's body trembling on top of me.

When it was over, I was drained. All the anguish, the shame, the tension and fear—everything was just drained out of me. Ellen still lay on top of me, gasping for breath.

Eric stood up and said, "Fine. I guess you'll want to go home with him then. Just leave me the keys to the shop."

He offered us another drink, just to show us there were no hard feelings, but we declined. There was no point in staying.

It would be nice if Ellen and I had run away together and lived happily ever after, but life's not that simple. She couldn't leave the store, and a divorce would be expensive. She did go home with me that night, the first of many nights, and our romance turned into something beautiful—odd, but still beautiful.

We often talked about that night, and I asked her whether she'd known what was going to happen back at their place, whether she'd known about the three-way. Her answer was yes, she'd known. She'd agreed to it, in fact. She wasn't comfortable cheating on her husband, but she had no qualms about cheating with him. She's a remarkable woman.

She still goes into the store, and Eric remains a friend, or maybe associate is a better word. He's taken to combing through the estate sales and flea markets for old records hunting for another big find, so I never had the heart to tell him that I'd had that Robert Johnson record in my possession from the start. That would only queer the deal.