I Was a Voyeur Couple’s Birthday Present

That summer was the hottest I can remember, and also the first one I spent doing this. I had little experience and a lot to learn, but I already knew enough to understand that every client was different and that anticipating what they wanted was half the job. That night’s appointment, however, hadn’t been arranged by me: she had arranged it.

They explained it to me as soon as I walked into the apartment. It was Bruno’s birthday, a big man with broad shoulders and a very hairy chest, and his wife, Carla, had bought him the present he’d wanted for years without daring to ask for it: spending the night with a young guy while she watched. They were a couple who had been swapping for a long time, people with a sex life much more active than they looked, and that was a shared fantasy. Him, fucking me. Her, enjoying the show.

—Don’t get nervous —Carla said, pouring me something to drink—. This is for both of us. I just want to see how his face lights up.

The apartment was small and the ceiling fan couldn’t keep up. Within minutes the three of us were already sweating, her included, fanning herself with a folded magazine while she watched us from a chair beside the bed.

We started slowly. At first Carla joined in, kneeling between the two of us, running her tongue from one cock to the other like someone who couldn’t quite decide. She had a way of looking up at her husband that made it clear who ruled that room. Then she stood up, settled into the chair, and left us alone. From there on out, it was just an audience.

***

Bruno’s cock was thick, the kind that makes you want to take your time. I did what I always do with the ones I like: I lingered a good while on the head, teasing the tip of my tongue there, before taking it deeper. It was one of those that wouldn’t fit all the way in me. I managed to take about half of it, as much as my throat could handle that night, and he let me set the pace, one hand resting on the back of my neck without pressing.

—Slowly —he murmured—. We’re in no hurry.

From the chair, Carla gave a low laugh.

—He loves playing the gentleman —she said—. Wait till he gets over it.

Then she put me on all fours. I felt him settle behind me and, suddenly, his tongue running over me from bottom to top. He was damn good at it. He took his time there, working me with his mouth until my knees started to weaken, and I gripped the sheets with my fingers, unable to keep still. I could hear him breathing against my skin, I could feel him opening me with his thumbs, and every time his tongue pressed the center a moan slipped out of me that I couldn’t hold back.

—Turn over —he said after a while, his voice rougher—. I want to see your face while I do it.

I lay on my back. He put on the condom with a calm that made me more nervous than if he’d gone straight to it, spread the lube without sparing it, and started to enter very slowly. I felt myself opening, that huge pressure, that burn on the edge between pain and something else. It was too much. I clenched my teeth, held my breath, and knew I wasn’t going to last like that.

—Wait —I asked, stretching my hand toward the bedside table.

The poppers were there. I don’t like using them: they loosen everything up, yes, but then they leave me with a horrible headache and sometimes make me dizzy, so I only bring them out when the situation calls for it. A very big cock, double penetration, a dildo that’s terrifying, fisting. This qualified. I inhaled, closed my eyes, and waited.

***

A few seconds later my body gave in. The pressure turned into heat, Bruno’s cock went in without resistance, and for the first time that night I felt completely full. The pain went back where it had come from and left behind something much more intense. I couldn’t stop myself from starting to moan, and then I stopped trying.

He noticed at once. He took me by the neck with one hand, not to squeeze but to hold me steady, and picked up the pace. I rolled my eyes back and let myself go, handed over complete control and let that big man do whatever he wanted with me. He was wrecking me in the best possible way, with those long thrusts that shook my whole body on the mattress.

—Look at him —Carla said from the chair, and there was a new tremor in her voice—. Look at you, Bruno, look what you’ve got him doing.

I don’t know how long it went on like that. Sweat was running off us in streams, the fan was useless, and between the heat and the effort we were both starting to run out of breath. At one point he stopped, lay on his back on the bed, and tipped his chin at me.

—Your turn —he said—. I want to see you work.

I inhaled from the bottle again. I got on top of him, found his cock with my hand, and lowered myself slowly. When I took it all in, it felt like a red-hot stake being driven into me; I added more lube, breathed deeply, and started moving. At first carefully, then really riding him, braced against his sweat-soaked chest, my own cock bouncing against my abdomen and his with every drop.

Bruno was growling like an animal, his hands dug into my hips, marking my rhythm. I could feel him growing inside me, pulsing, and I knew I didn’t have much longer. I grabbed my cock, gave it a few strokes in time with the thrusts, and came across his torso in spurts that mixed with the sweat already covering him.

***

He was on the edge too; I could feel it in the way his whole body tensed beneath mine. I got off him before he came. He pulled the condom off in a hurry, I leaned over his face, and he came on mine with a long growl that seemed to empty him out completely. I liked that cock so much that, while it was still throbbing and letting out the last threads, I gave it a few more slow sucks until it settled down.

Bruno collapsed back onto the pillow, exhausted, his chest rising and falling like a bellows. We were both drenched in sweat, with no strength left for anything. And then Carla, the most devoted spectator I’d ever had, got up from the chair.

She came over to me without saying a word and kissed me. Then she ran her tongue over my face, licking up the semen of her husband that was still left on my cheek, with not the slightest shame, as if that were the part she’d been waiting for all night. When she was done with me, she turned to Bruno and kissed him too, sharing with him what she’d just collected.

—Happy birthday, love —she said against his lips.

And the three of us laughed, exhausted and satisfied, sticky and breathless, in that bed that seemed ready to melt from the heat.

***

I stayed a little longer, recovering with them, drinking water and letting the fan do what little it could. There was no rush to leave, and that, in this line of work, doesn’t happen all that often. Carla told me how she’d planned the present for weeks, how she’d chosen the date, how hard it had been to decide to find someone. Bruno listened with a goofy smile, still naked, still not quite believing it.

—You have no idea how hard it is to find the right person —she told me—. Most people don’t understand this is for both of us.

I did understand. And I think that’s why they called me a couple more times that season. They were good people, fun, straight-up, and the sex with them was always among the best I had in those months. Over time I learned many things in this job, but the first one, the one Bruno and Carla taught me that July night, was that a gift can be enjoyed by three people and that, sometimes, the one who watches is the one who enjoys it most.