The first time I watched other people have sex was not the moment of unqualified lusty pleasure that I imagined it would be. Once all the clothes were off, none of us knew what to do next. I suddenly felt an intense burst of self-conscious doubt, seeing him bury his face in between her legs. The tip of his tongue circled her clit. She leaned back on the pillows, eyes closed and moaning - lost in herself for a moment.
Her hand rested softly on my cock, almost as if she’d forgotten about it. I stroked her shoulder, noticing the complex, spindly lines of the tattoo woven around her deltoid. Seeing the pleasure they took in each other’s bodies, my arousal curdled into doubt: “What am I doing here? How can I add anything to this? They don’t need me.” She arched her back and tightened her grip around the base of my cock, orgasm pulsing through her body.
The boyfriend raised his head, surprised: “What was that?” His face glistened, wet. She turned around, laughing like she didn't quite know what was happening. “I’m on tonight babe...” The tip of my cock vanished into her mouth.
“Honey?” She sucked on me between sentences. “Can you...” Slurp. “Fuck me from behind.” Another pause while she enjoyed a good, long lick. “Please.”
And I got it, seeing the look in his eye when he spread her open and slid his fingers inside: That’s what my role was. To lean back, relax and simply be there for this intense new experience. I was their first third, and my presence alone was enough to make all of us wonder what exactly we were supposed to do.
Not knowing, we improvised.