Installment 7 - Masturbating for Mr. Miller

The next day she wore the same dress again. I said something to her about it and she blushed and stammered and explained that Mr. Miller liked this dress. I drove her to work and again noticed that she did not wear pantyhose. I asked her about. She said Mr. Miller did not mind.

She kissed me when I let her off and said she hoped she would not have to work late. I said: "You don't have to if you don't want to." She shook her head: "I know." She blushed again. I felt then something was going on she did not want to tell me about. I wondered.

Mr. Miller was very glum that morning and left her alone to tend the store. She thought he was mad at her. She felt very unhappy too. He went out to lunch and left her again. He said: "I am going down to Bob's bar."

He came back late, almost two hours late and obviously been drinking. She unlocked the door to let him in and he seemed much more cheerful. He did some things with his books. Some customers came and went, including a young couple shopping for wedding rings. Karen sold them a nice set by herself and Mr. Miller congratulated her on the sale after they left.

He put the credit receipt in the cash drawer and turned and said he was sorry he was acting so mean, its just he had a fight with his wife. He stepped up to Karen at the counter next to him and embraced her and kissed her and she was anxious about this. Kissing him in public like this. She was afraid someone might see. "So what?" he mocked, holding her by the waist. "What if your wife came in," she feared. He laughed.

"No, she won't. I didn't tell you; she's gone away for a week, out of town." He kissed her some more and she let him. She opened her mouth for his kisses.

But a customer did come in and what he saw I do not know but it upset Karen, who very felt embarrassed. It amused Mr. Miller, as Bob told it, who described how he deferred the customer to her and while the customer was shown a tray of rings, stepped behind Karen and lifted her dress and began fondling her bare buttock, wedging his fingers into the moistness between, and into the folds of her vagina and fiddling with her there. She, trying to talk, was disconcerted, and lapsed into inattentive moments which put-off the customer so much that he left.

The customer having left, Mr. Miller turned Karen and before she could speak began kissing her again and his hand now to the front of her, her dress raised to her waist began to finger fuck her vigorously, and she, so Bob said, put her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes, and enjoyed it.

Miller claimed he got her to cum on his fingers and that she had been so pent-up she burst into tears when she did and collapsed to the floor on her knees. He kissed her head and leaning over her he reached down her back and unfastened the top of her dress, and unzipped it to the bottom of the zipper. She did not resist or speak. He reached over her and seized the hem of the dress and with one violent motion drew her whole dress up and off of her. She not resisting, letting her arms go up with the motion, as he stripped the dress from her, he straightened and commented how she ought to be naked all day and left her to huddle naked behind the counter. He took her dress away and put it in a cabinet where she should not find it. She still was sobbing softly and he heard her from the workroom, so he came out, holding his cup of tea (brandy) and spoke some kindnesses, then left her to compose herself, leaving her naked as she was, and went the backroom, sniffing his hand with satisfaction.

Bob said: "You know, he did not wash his hands until he could come and have me smell her on his fingers that night at the bar and tell me all about it. What a dog!"

Karen never told me about this incident. She hardly told me much about this week, except for the weekend, when it all blew up on her, and even then only a smallest part of the truth.

Bob said Miller laughed about it that night at the bar, telling how she finally ran into the workroom holding her tits in her hands and pleaded with him to let her have her dress back and how he told her to go back and tend to the shop. A customer came in and calling for assistance, Miller looked at Karen seriously, and told her to go out and help the man. She refused and cowered against the doorjamb. Exasperated (and also amused) he went out to assist the customer.

If Karen tried to find her dress, she failed. And Miller had hid her overcoat too. He had planned for her humiliation purposefully. When Miller came back from serving the customer she had fled to the corner where Bob had found her crouched and naked the day before. She looked at Mr. Miller plaintively but did not ask to get dressed.

He said: "No man saw you naked but your husband?" She nodded. "Until me?" She nodded, blushing. "Then Bob." She nodded again.

"Didn't you ever play doctor when you were a little girl?"

He sat on the stool and studied her. She said quietly that she did not understand. And I don't think she did understand, but she had confided to me once, without much detail, that she had three teen-age boy cousins who took her to their secret place in the woods and "did some things to her" when she was about ten years old. And I had always wondered whether they might have broken her hymen with some sort of probing about, because although I am sure she was virgin and had almost no sexual experience before we married, it did not seem like I broke her hymen. I had no difficulty with my first penetration, she had no pain, and she left no tell-tale bleeding on the sheet.

Miller explained: "I think men like to see you naked."

She said nothing to this.

Miller expanded: "I think you like them to see you naked."

She said nothing still.

He said: "I think you get sexually excited by taking off your clothes for men."

She shook her head. "Yes, you do." He said, "I have seen how you look. I remember how you looked at me the first time I undressed you. I remember how you looked when you undressed out there in the shop. I remember how you looked at Bob when you stood in front of him naked."

She shook her head. He smiled at her: "Before you can get dressed I want you to run out and lock the door so we won't be disturbed and then come back in and eat this nice lollipop I have ready for you." While he spoke, he had stood and dropped his pants and undershorts and his ready erection in hand, he drew his foreskin down to show the randy red bulbous glans, round and candy-like as the lollipop he said it resembled and just the right shape and size for her mouth.

He waited as she ran to the door, running against the counter in a crouch and praying no one came to the door and she must have been safe. Bob said nothing more about it.

Describing how she then submissively and anxiously knelt and put her hands on Mr. Miller's thighs as he directed her and how he held his penis for her, its engorgement up, popping out for her to put her mouth on, I can take in part from what Karen told me herself. She had told me about this even though she did not remember when it had occurred. She had remembered the number of times she had done this cock-sucking and cum-eating. Actually, I had asked her—assuming that of course she would say she had only done it the once but I was mistaken—in fact she told me that she had sucked his cock or eaten his cum not once, but precisely six occasions.

She had remembered each occasion vividly, which surprised me, and she could relate to me how she felt, what happened on each occasion, even details of the ejaculation strongly remembered, and so on. This one she remembered because of how he guided her with such detail and because she felt so hot with embarrassment, as she said, feeling so deeply ashamed of herself. She had found it particularly humiliating to her, being completely naked, being on her knees, kneeling to this subservient degrading exploitation to deliver oral services for his ejaculation, intending to feed it to her mouth, and it shamed her because of how he coaxed her and how he guided her to use her tongue and mouth on his penis, calling her a good little girl as she did what she was told and telling her that he had never known a woman so willing to do such things as she was, that his wife never would. All these humiliations, implicit in the act, shamed her, and then something that he confided as she used her mouth on him, which wounded her with purpose, I think, that the only woman he had ever got to do anything like this for him was a whore he had paid twenty bucks in a parked car in the dark and she had been fully dressed and she had not even swallowed it but had spat it out in disgust into a Kleenex. Karen recalled for me how pointedly then he had taken a twenty dollar bill from his wallet once she had gotten dressed and gave it to her before he let her go home that night.

She told me how he guided her to use her tongue on the thing and to lick at the glans like it was a sticky lollipop and he had her put the tip of her tongue into the slit of it and lick the stuff, the clear pre-ejaculate as it seeped out there, and which must have been stimulated by her tongue, or he must be just especially like this, that she thought he must be doing this on purpose to make her lick the drips, to taste them. She would lick it as she saw the fluids form, beading from the slit at the tip of his penis, a glistening dew drop of it, and he would watch her as she saw it rise and coax her to lick, and asked her over and over if she liked it and she would nod in her heat and anxiety. How long he kept this up, I can only imagine, he tortured her with it and himself, I would guess, trying to hold off the climax of his ejaculation for as long as he could bear it or until, as I am guessed by the way she describe it, he just could not hold it any longer and he told her urgently what to do, and insisted she put her hands behind her back and look up at his eyes and keep them open and open her mouth and then holding his erection, his foreskin drawn tightly back, and held the glans so exposed, red and round, she said it looked in fact like cherry lollipop. He said for her to just put her mouth over the glans, to hold the glans in her mouth. "Suck it like a lollipop," he said and told her to look up at him.  Her tongue swam about the knob, feeling it. He could not hold it now.

"Look at me, look " he said, and stiffening, he watched intensely for her expression as at last he ejaculated into her mouth and at the suddenness, just as the first time when the ejaculate had been truly unexpected, her eyes widened and she murmured and rolled her tongue in it involuntarily—Miller would tell Bob that this little whimper made her so endearing to him—and this time, she said, his ejaculate was so copious, it really seemed to flood her mouth and almost gag her and a second jet came so quickly and a third that she had to gulp, while he, holding his breath seemed to strain to give her more, but he was completely spent; she waited, breathing again, with her mouth still holding what she had not swallowed until he nodded at her and let his prick slip out of her mouth, pasty with what she had not swallowed. Then swallowing, as he watched her with satisfaction, he asked her if she liked how it tasted and obediently and abjectly she nodded to please him. He watched her wipe her lips with her fingers and sit back on her haunches, her hands trembling on her naked thighs, and meekly look up at him.

He leaned and felt her breasts, fingering her nipples with both of his hands, teasing the points of them, and feeling the puffy round areoles of them, and asked her if she came when he did, for she too had jerked just as he jerked and came in her mouth, and had stiffened to receive his ejaculation in her mouth just as he had stiffened and made noises jus as he had, and she looked as spent as he felt. But she looked at him quizzically and shook her head uncertainly. For Karen does not seem to climax when I do but seems to be content with pleasing me. I am not sure she ever climaxed while we made love.

He said: "Masturbate for me."

She felt self-conscious and nervous. My wife has masturbated only in shame, in the privacy of her bed with the covers over her head, as I have said, and to stand there completely naked within inches of Mr. Miller and do this she felt very embarrassed but he insisted. She was reluctant and ineffectual but he liked how she closed her eyes and her mouth parted. Miller could still see his cum on her lips, in her mouth.

He liked how instinctively she felt herself by imagining a man touching her, and she was aroused but she did not climax. She felt warm, as she fondled her breasts, as she rubbed her genitals.

Her cheeks colored but this was not the deep hot flush that went down her throat and sprinkled her breasts like a rash as he would later see.

She closed her eyes.

She put her own fingers deeply into the cunt and she leaned against the wall, her legs spread for her hands. Her fingers went deeply into her cunt; she wanted to do this for him

Her mouth open; she breathed through her mouth; she felt herself ready to cum. She rubbed herself faster.

Mr. Miller grinned.

"Good," he said but he looked at his wrist watch. "I have to go."

She opened her eyes. She blinked. She felt embarrassed, ashamed.

He dressed hurriedly as he watched her frustration with ironic amusement. She had stopped feeling herself, and leaned, slouched and looked at him pathetically. She felt like she had let him down. She felt like crying she told me. He saw it and took her hand and drew her to him and she huddled against him sadly in his embrace.

He kissed her sweetly: "Don't you like this? Being naked for me? I want you to show me that you like being naked for me. That is why I ask you."

"I'm sorry," she said into his shoulder.

He told her he would ask Bob over the next night and maybe masturbating for him would be more exciting to her.

She did not reply at once. "Do I have to?" Still embraced him.

He did not reply: "You can get dressed then." And he let go of her and she put down her arms and looked at him pathetically. Miller telling Bob about this whole day that very night actually laughed about how pathetic she looked.

"Like she felt she'd disappointed me." he laughed.

Miller got her dress out of the cabinet and held it out to her and watched as she put it on. He asked her if she wanted something to drink. She shook her head. He grinned.

She turned for him to zip her up and said again she was sorry.

Miller said: "You do it for Bob."

He took his wallet out. He gave her a twenty-dollar bill.

He said: "Tomorrow, when you come in. Wear this same dress. I like it. And those shoes and socks. I love that." She nodded.

"But, put on underpants."

He laughed and took her overcoat out of the safe where he had hid it: "Maybe you won't feel so bad serving customers in your underpants."

He came close to her and embraced her fondly and kissed her, and she, kissing him responsively, must have shared some of the taste of his own cum with her tongue, but this is only a guess. As she helped her put on her coat he told her: "And make yourself up pretty, dear. I really like that red lipstick you wear. Bob will like it. All the men like it."