He stepped up to my wife, his speed surprising and quick for a man so large. He scooped her into his arms and brought her to his bed, laying her down gently and kissing her lightly on her lips.

His fingers traced a trail down her body, and from my position outside the room I could hear her sighs flutter forth. I could hear the quake in her voice as he tempted her, as she knew the inevitable destination in his path.

His head ducked between her thighs, his hands pushing them apart as he tasted her. From my position I could only see the back of his head and her thighs spread wide. I couldn’t see them properly. I couldn’t see enough.

Wordlessly I slipped into the room, not knowing if this was the right thing to do, not knowing if it was what I was supposed to do but knowing that it was what I wanted to do. I wanted to see the two of them together. I wanted to witness every moment of this.

To see him tasting her, his head rhythmically moving between her thighs. To see her respond to him, back arching and breasts high and proud as her hands sought out the bedclothes to hold onto and grasp between her fingers. The sound of him playing an intricate melody on her body. The sound of her, the noises escaping her mouth out of her control completely.

The feel of me, hard in my pants. So very hard.