It began as two, just the woman and her husband.
It was to be a treat for her birthday. Their tenth anniversary would have been a good enough reason, but her birthday treat was better because it was to be her decision.
He once said that he would like to see her satisfied by another man. He wanted to watch her groan, he said, as he was watching her writhe, without even touching her. With another man. Another cock.
Recently things had dulled between them, hence the requirement for a special birthday gift. So, eventually, when she decided that she herself was in need of another man, she decided to cut the usual internet bullshit and go with a ‘paid provider’.
‘If you feel weird at any point we can just stop.’ She said to her husband.
‘I know we can, ‘ he replied.
‘This is what you yourself wanted, remember?’
‘What I once wanted. Now it’s what you want. It’s your birthday and it’s what you want now.’
She actually needed it; what she wanted was for him to watch. She wanted to see him watch her doing it hard with somebody else. For the first time in their history he was to play no part. Just watch this time. It would make her horny with him as the viewer. She would make him watch from behind the bedroom door, dressed in his work suit and loosened tie, as if he’d just arrived home. She would not be wanking on this day as she normally was but she would instead be getting fucked. His initial anger would quickly turn to intrigue then to excitement and he’d find himself just having to watch. She would feel that it was him inside her, even though he was outside in the hall, watching. That’s it, she thought, that is my fantasy. The suit. The other man. And me, she thought.
Although he liked the idea once, he was reticent about her being with another man.
‘This was once OK with you,’ she said.
‘Well, I feel different now,’
‘Nothings changed. It’s just another birthday.’
He was silent.
‘You don’t just get to decide it’s ok whenever it suits you.’ She said.
His sense of loss was not what she wanted. She did not want him to suffer. She wanted him to feel the same way about it as when he first brought it up all those years ago. But it was different, now he didn’t relish the idea, only she did. Somehow the power had now become hers. It was her desire, not his, that was defining the rules and motoring her new needs.
They spent their money on an executive agency client. His given name was Matthew – only Matt to his friends. He was a commodities trader. He owned an apartment in Broadgate and a house in Wiltshire. He drove a two-seater with a soft top. A Mercedes. He was Taurean. His favorite thing was snuggling up after sex, although to stay the night would be another six hundred.
A picture showed him, fair and handsome, skiing down white virgin snow (He says that it’s Switzerland) another one he is standing next to his prized car at a heliport. In another he’s mid-discussion in what appears to be a high-rise boardroom meeting.
She forwarded the link to her husband at his office. And waited.
At first he said no, that he didn’t like those yuppie city types. She reminded him that it was about her needs, about her decisions this time.
He sat at his desk with the web page open on his screen. The car, the snow and the life. This is what she now wanted, he thought.
‘Ok. If it’s him that you really want,’ he said.
‘It is what I want. He is what I…’
‘He is what I want, she said, even though she really meant ‘need’, ‘I also want to see you watching.’
‘I’ll text you when I want you come up. But wait silently at the bedroom door.’
‘Ok,’ he said.
She called him back fifteen minutes later.
‘He’ll be there tonight. Eight o’clock.’ she said.
‘Then I should come in at nine.’
‘Eight thirty,’ she said, then hung up.
He thought about it for a few minutes. He tried to work but the thoughts and images were rolling around his head and beginning to change his mind. He rang her back but there was no answer for the rest of that afternoon. Eventually, he spoke to her voicemail.
‘I… don’t know what you want me to do? Should I (he whispered into the mouthpiece) wank off?… Or shall I just leave after a while. I’ll wait back in the car. Can you let me know?’
Her not calling him back was not a mistake – it was a decision. There were now, for the first time in her life, two men in the same arena. She never returned his call even when she finished work, less than two hours before Matt, his name for the night, was to arrive.
If Matt was relieved that she was younger than his other clients, he never showed it. He brought her flowers. Beautiful flowers. And handed them to her at the apartment door. He waited until she invited him in.
He wore a grey Balenciaga suit and for a while she watched him from behind as he stood in the centre of the living room, clenching his hands behind his back and across his impossibly rounded ass. He waited without turning around. As she approached him, walking sideways, circling him, he followed her with his eyes without moving his head. He was smiling. Smirking. She took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom.
He arrived home when they were mid fuck. He heard them stop briefly from the door as he slowly turned the bolt and crept down the hallway. His eyes rounded the door. At first he could see only her hair across the pillow. He inched forward and could then see her eyes staring back at him. He tried not to close his own eyes, which is what he desperately wanted to do. This was her birthday. He realized how badly he wanted to close his eyes when he saw the athletic ass of another man, Matt, as it pounded down onto his wife. He took out his cock and let it hang flaccid from his suit zipper. He tried to tug at it but for all the effort it remained soft. She looked over and somehow felt flaccid herself. As if all was now lost and lights seemed to be going out around them. He smiled at her, resigned.
Matt pulled himself upright and began to penetrate her slowly. Without turning towards the open door, Matt beckoned him over with a finger. Keeping his eyes on her, he moved slowly towards her and Matt until he stood next to the bed. Matt took hold of his limp cock and placed it in his mouth. This did nothing for him even as Matt slapped the limp cock onto his cheek, without breaking eye contact with her.
But she sat upright, unable to quite get what she was seeing and what was happening to her inside and outside and within her own head. She banged herself down onto Matt and began to moan, not once taking her eyes from Matt’s or he from hers.
Her husband could see how wet she was becoming. He could smell how close she was getting. Only then could he feel himself grow inside of Matt’s mouth. Her eyes grew wider and she gasped as she slammed herself down. But she never looked at him, only into Matt’s eyes and at his mouth as it worked on her husbands cock. And Matt stared back at her as he circled the ridge of the cock against his white teeth. Her husband felt himself get close as he remembered all the signs that she was about to explode. His cock wasn’t in her – Matt’s was and his cock was deep in Matt’s throat.
But this wasn’t about cocks in places. This was about witnessing those old heights within each other. It was this remembering that eventually made them both come. He remembered that sometimes he could come just by watching her come, and vice-versa.
What she was seeing, she couldn’t fathom but it moved everything around inside of her. And he didn’t care where his cock was because this was all about her. It was her birthday. And it was only her joy that made him even thicker inside Matt’s mouth and it was only her ecstasy that made it all work.
Read columns by Charlie Bauer PhD here