For months we shared our secret menage and slipped into a pattern, a routine, a way of things, as always happens through familiarity. Adrienne and I lived together as husband and wife. Adrienne and Derek lived together under that same roof, as lovers. I had accepted it, and I felt powerless to do anything else. They would retire to bed together and say goodnight to me matter-of-factly, as though there were nothing unusual about it. Some nights they would get drunk, and they would cuddle and flirt in front of me before stumbling upstairs. Other times, Adrienne would ask me to leave them, as she had on that first night. I wondered from the knowing little half-smile on her face whether she knew how much this little humiliation excited me, plunged me into a dark place of submission to my fate, and left me stroking myself ecstatically on our bed. While I slept alone, they fucked intensely, sometimes for hours on end, and as lovers they were an enigma, a source of fascination, almost worship, for me as I lay awake listening to the sounds, imagining the scene. I knew that what they were doing, what they were going through, was something quite different from the sex life that I had shared with my wife, and that it was something I would never experience, never be capable of experiencing. I began to feel a real sense of the physical superiority of Derek, my cuckolder. I could never satisfy Adrienne as he did, I had never made her cry out with joy, sob uncontrollably, beg for more, stay up all night, stay home all day caring for nothing but being fucked by her lover. She was like an addict for him. I knew the word for it I suppose, but I felt a huge painful lump of sorrow rise in my throat every time I admitted it to myself. She was in love with him.
"Can you call the office for me, tell them I'm not well and I won't be coming in today?"
This became a familiar request from my wife. I would look over at Derek, knowing that he would be fucking my wife all day, and wondering what that felt like. I always did as she asked.
One morning I brought coffee up to Adrienne and Derek in their bed as I had gotten into the habit of doing, and Adrienne surprised me a little.
"Max, its your birthday next week. We'd like to do something for you. Derek and I. Anything you want. Go somewhere, do something. You're so sweet to us, you make us so happy, we'd like to do something special for you."
"Oh ... OK. Like what?"
Derek was eyeing me, complacent and intruigued with the conversation as my wife answered, her head still on his chest and her beautiful small breasts covered primly by a hand on the sheet as she propped herself up.
"I don't know, anything you want. Have a think about it."
"OK Ade. That's a nice thought. I'll think about it."
After work that evening I caught Adrienne alone in the kitchen. I had been thinking and fantasizing all day, plucking up the courage for my proposal. I didn't want to say it in front of Derek. Even with my wife I was flushed bright red, I could feel blotches on my neck revealing my embarrassment. But I had to say it, this was a chance in a lifetime.
"Adrienne, about your proposal."
"Proposal?"
"For my birthday treat."
"Oh! Yes of course. Did you give it any thought?"
I had to just come right out with it.
"I ... I'd like to ... w-watch."
"Watch?" She raised an eyebrow. "Watch what?"
"You and Derek."
"Ohhhh. Oh ... Oh. Right. I see ..."
A grin came over her face. She looked me up and down briefly, letting me squirm in my embarrassment.
"And how would that work exactly, Max? What would you like us to do?"
"I ... If I could just be a fly on the wall. You could do what you normally do. When I'm out."
She laughed out loud this time.
"Ooh, Maxy. You little pervert, you."
"I know. But you said anything I want. That's what I want most."
She paused a moment, still grinning.
"Let me discuss it with Derek. We'll let you know."
When Derek came home, she asked me to leave them so they could talk, so I went upstairs to the bedroom. At first I could hear them kissing and canoodling, then I heard them chatting and laughing. Then my wife called me down. I was trembling as I walked into my own living room to greet them. They were on the sofa, arm in arm. It was Derek who spoke.
"Adrienne tells me you want to watch us."
I blushed scarlet.
"That's ... that's right Derek."
He grinned. He could see me squirming with shame.
"That's what you want more than anything else?"
I nodded, eyes lowered. It seemed so shameful to be confessing this to Derek, another man. That what I wanted more than anything else in the world was to watch him fuck my wife.
He looked at Adrienne, then sighed.
"OK Max, your wish has come true."
He smiled.
"Th-thank you Derek."
My eyes were still lowered in shame.
"For one day only," he went on, "you can be a fly on the wall and a Peeping Tom with us. We'll just treat you like part of the furniture."
"Thank you. But if I can help you or s...serve you while I am here, please let me know."
Derek grinned.
"OK Max. We'll bear that in mind."
All week I was beside myself with excitement at what was going to happen on my birthday. All of those things I had heard, imagined, wanked over, I was going to see them happen with my own eyes. A real man and a real woman, making love as God intended. My beautiful, beloved wife, being fucked by a black man. Adrienne, her pretty white mouth stuffed with cock. Derek's cock. Despite myself, those particular words and thoughts made my little dick hard every time ... Derek's cock. I had never seen it. But now I was going to. Quite often that week I would find myself having to stifle an erection on my journey to work as my thoughts kept turning to my birthday treat. At more sober moments I felt some gloom at how twisted and perverted my existence had become. How could I call myself a man? What man would request as a birthday treat to see his own wife fucked by another man, in his own home? Adrienne had called me a pervert. I couldn't deny it. And yet ... how glorious those fantasies were. Not just fantasies either, this was really going to happen. I knew what my little white penis wanted, and the brain would always follow.
**
Watching my wife lying back on the bed, a little glint of sweat underneath her white breasts, her legs spread wide, beckoning, begging for his cock, my whole body felt numb, and my little penis throbbed just to see it. I looked up at Derek as he stood savouring the sight, my beautiful wife spread at his mercy, his possession and conquest. He stroked his long black penis absently. I looked at his cock, stared at it in awe, I could not take my eyes off the thing ... I felt no shame, no self-consciousness. They were holding very true to their promise and ignoring me utterly, caught up in each other. I was almost literally a fly on the wall to them, and insect, a creature of no consequence, whose presence did not matter.
Derek's penis. A thing of beauty and power, no question about that. Heavy, black, veined ... a sheen of sweat creating a blue-black depth of colour and darkness. Latent menace and power. I was beyond words, thought, morality, looking at another man's cock and silently worshipping as it prepared to penetrate my wife.
Adrienne's cunt. A gateway to my wife's body, to her reproductive system, a portal of white and pink feminine flesh. Also a thing of exquisite beauty to me as I looked from Derek's cock to the place it was soon to enter. Her cunt had never seemed more beautiful, it seemed to be the centre of her, as she lay spread for her lover.
