That year, it was our first time as a couple (4)

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I watched, thought, feared, felt jealous, and excited all at the same time. My half-erect penis, under her lascivious expression of pleasure, swelled little by little to its maximum size in her warm, moist mouth…
His tongue skills were indeed impressive (she told me that he seemed to be able to hold her vulva in his mouth, sucking out her clitoris and licking it with the tip of his tongue, focusing on just one point. No matter how much she couldn't bear the stimulation and tried to twist away, he would stick his head in, holding her firmly like a suction cup, relentlessly licking her). In a short while, her intermittent moans began to turn into loud, unrestrained cries:
…Mmm…Ah…Oh…,
…Sister likes your tongue, it feels so good…Ah…
I want your big xx…
Hearing these, it felt like a pile of mud and rocks had come loose from the mountain and were hitting my head with a clatter.
Each of her cries, each sentence, was like a knife scraping at my heart. What I thought I could accept, was now just a verbal encounter, yet it had already left me feeling numb and confused.
But it was also her moans and groans, like bewitching music, an irresistible aphrodisiac, that made me uncontrollably swell to my core, painfully hard.
My wife was writhing and moaning with pleasure on his lips, but he still didn't take any further action. I thought it best to leave and let him act quickly. So I let my wife and him go into the master bedroom first. I went into another room, lay on the bed, turned on the TV, and waited.
Waiting for what? Actually, to give him an environment where I wasn't present (but the door could only be ajar), so that he could relax and make a powerful thrust into her body, and then I would join in. It wasn't that I wanted to do this, but we had discussed it beforehand. If I were present, he would be shy, pressured, and afraid.
I lit a cigarette and started waiting. My eyes were on the TV screen, there were pictures and sound, but slowly, I couldn't concentrate at all. My ears were perked up towards the door, and only one thought occupied my mind
... What were they doing? Now.
When I first entered the room, I thought I could wait for them to be like this, but I was wrong. I was deceiving myself.
Various images began to appear in my mind.
I was especially curious about her reaction to him when I wasn't there. In this situation, with a handsome guy flirting with her, would she think of me? Would she be reserved? Or would she surrender her body and act wantonly? And even if she was reserved, it wouldn't last long, would it?
I forced myself not to think about it, my eyes fixed on the TV, trying to concentrate and distract myself.
One second, two seconds… ten seconds…
but
… what was she doing? Were they embracing passionately? What would she say to him? He must be licking her until she was dying, right? Did she take his penis? Could it be that they've already gone inside? Did they just stop caring about anything and not even use a condom? Should I go check on them? …
I promised myself I wouldn't disturb them, but it didn't work. I couldn't calm down. Maybe only five or six minutes later, this whole bunch of questions and thoughts filled my brain. I started to feel anxious and uneasy.
Unable to control myself, I quietly went to their door. As promised, the door wasn't closed, leaving a small gap that was enough for someone outside to observe everything inside. A small lamp was on by the bedside. The two were still lying in bed, embracing, kissing, whispering, and caressing each other.
I forced myself to watch TV again, but I didn't know what any of the channels were showing; it was pointless. I changed channels, and then again, but my mind was still filled with the same questions, the same scenes… Frustration.
After what seemed like an eternity, I reached out to look again. He was on top of her, her arms wrapped around his back, but he did nothing but caress her. The light was off, only the lights of the bustling street outside shone through the sheer curtains, creating a hazy, dim atmosphere. All activity inside was kept secret, allowing those flirting to sink into a more intimate, dreamlike state.
Damn it! I cursed inwardly, their dim lighting creating a private "world for two"—had they forgotten about me?
I tried to reassure myself, thinking he was just shy, and that my wife had probably just passively accepted the lights being turned off. Oh well.
I could hear them talking intermittently, their voices very low, and even with my ears strained, I could barely hear anything except for occasional flirtatious giggles. A tickling sensation ran through me, a feeling of being excluded yet unable to confront them. I decided to ignore it. I resolved to go back to my room, determined not to come over until I heard her moans.
I changed channels, but kept my ears perked up, listening intently. A long time passed, maybe ten minutes, but still no sound. I turned off the TV and listened again. What was going on?
I went to the door again. In the dim light, he was naked, his hands supporting him on either side of her body, above her, his hips moving gently up and down between her parted legs. She responded to his movements, rising and falling in rhythm with soft moans.
—Did he go in?

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