'My Husband's Rich Boyfriend' draft: Dinner (Patreon)

Next part of chapter seven. DM or comment with your thoughts!

I didn’t see Callum or Winston again till dinner, because I ended up pretty busy prepping food for Johannes and setting out hors d’oeurves for the guests.

The next time I saw them was when I brought out cocktails before dinner. Callum and Winston had both put on clothes by this point; both of them were dressed in expensive-looking, but loose-fitting casual clothes that looked like they belonged on a beach resort. Their guests were a handsome gay couple, slightly older, dressed more conservatively but just as expensively. One of them looked familiar, like from TV or something, but I couldn’t quite pick where.

No one acknowledged me as I set the drinks out for them; it was as though I was invisible, an appliance rather than a person. I could see that Winston was completely captivated by Callum; he barely took his eyes off him.

About half an hour later I came out with a second round of drinks, just in time to hear one of the guests ask, “So, you live here too, Winston?”

“Not up until now,” Winston told the couple. “But…” He looked over uncertainly at Callum, like he wasn’t exactly sure whether he was supposed to say what he was about to.

Callum picked up the conversation though. “We actually just talked about it today, and decided that Winston’s going to move in permanently.”

I almost dropped the tray of drinks when I heard that. I mean, I knew as well as anyone that Winston was no longer living with me in any real sense of the word. But I’d had no idea that he’d officially moved in with Callum. Without saying a thing to me about it.

Their visitors gushed excitedly though. “Oh my god, that’s awesome. I’m so happy for you two!” one of them said.

“Congratulations,” the other one said. To Winston he said, “You know, when we last saw Callum about six months ago he was making the most of the bachelor lifestyle, so you must have had quite the effect on him to make him settle down.”

Everyone laughed at that.

“He’s definitely had quite the effect on me,” Callum admitted.

“Well, you must be doing something really right to tame this stallion!”

“I guess it seemed like we might as well, I’m around here pretty much all the time anyway. I barely ever go home to my own place.”

“Lucky the houseboy’s just turned up with more drinks,” said the guy closest to me, seeing me hovering awkwardly. “Because this deserves a toast, right?”

I quickly handed out the cocktails. I stood there for a few seconds, watching as they all toasted Winston and Callum’s news. The way they were all so pleased - and the way Winston didn’t even really react to my presence - killed me and made my dick swell at the same time.

The evening carried on like that; I’d hang out in the kitchen, listening to them laugh and joke with each other; then I’d bring out drinks or food without any of them noticing I was there.

As I cleared up the plates from dinner, though, Callum said to me, “Hey, cuck, get us another bottle of wine, would you?”

I could feel my face go bright red as I hurried out of the room. As soon as I was through the door I stopped - even though I knew I needed to get out there with the wine, I was so embarrassed that I just needed to stop for a minute and let my heartbeat return to normal. I leaned against the door, and took a couple of deep breaths.

From the other side of the door, I heard one of the guests speaking.“How come you call the houseboy ‘cuck’?” he asked.

I heard Winston laugh at the question. It was Callum who replied though. “Oh, that’s Winston’s husband. He’s a cuckold.”

“What? Wait, he’s your current husband?”

“Well I guess, yeah,” Winston replied. “Like technically, but I don’t see him much.”

“Sorry, I don’t get it. What’s the deal with you guys?”

Callum laid it out. “Winston’s husband’s a cuckold. You know what that is, right? It’s guy who likes to see his partner get satisfied by another man better than he can do it himself. He brought Winston round here one night, and I guess I satisfied him enough that he kept coming back for more.”

There was a whole lot of laughing, before Winston piped up. “He definitely satisfied me. You know, I was a top till I met Callum.”

They all laughed again. “Oh yeah, we understand,” one of the guests said. “Everyone’s heard about Callum’s reputation as a top!”

More laughing. When it died down, their other friend asked in a half-whisper,“So that guy in there, he’s your actual husband? And you left him for Callum? But he just hangs around serving you drinks?”

“Yeah pretty much.” It was Winston’s voice. “I mean, he’s not usually here serving us drinks. He’s just here for the weekend, while the usual houseboy’s away. Thought we’d do something nice for him, you know?”

The whole table laughed. I felt completely humiliated.

“And he’s… he’s okay with it?”

“Yeah. Like I think he gets a bit jealous and sad sometimes. But he’s a total cuck so he gets turned on by knowing Callum’s giving me what he can’t.”

“Wow. So, is your relationship with him over then? Now that you’re moving in with Callum?”

“Not over.” Winston replied. “Well, I mean it’s over sexually. It’s been over sexually ever since I met Callum. And we don’t hang out much anymore. But he’s still my husband, we still love each other and all that. He’s just can’t measure up to this guy, you know? Callum just kinda stole my heart… and claimed my ass.”

I heard them all chuckle at that. I wanted to listen longer, but I was conscious that I’d been standing there listening for too long, and they were waiting on their wine. So I grabbed the bottle, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door.

The conversation had moved on to something else by now. As I approached the table and filled the glasses, Callum kept talking as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. But his friends couldn’t take their eyes off me. The expression on their faces as they watched me was a mix of incredulous and amused; they looked like they could barely contain their laughter. That made me go red as beetroot, which just made it funnier for them. I turned and almost ran out of the room; as soon as I was through the door, I heard someone mutter something I couldn’t quite make out, and the whole table erupted in laughter.

After that every time I came out - to refresh the water, bring out dessert - I could feel their mocking, judging eyes on me. And Winston didn’t even acknowledge me, let alone stick up for me in any way.

Once dinner was over they kept drinking and talking for another hour or so. But by this stage they didn’t need me any more, because they moved from the dinner table to the sofa, and Callum was pouring expensive whiskey from his liquor cabinet. By this time Johannes was done cooking and retired to his room, so I just busied myself doing dishes and cleaning up the kitchen alone.

Eventually I heard voices in the foyer, and the door closing as Callum and Winston’s friends left. I knew that they probably didn’t need anything more from me for the evening, and they probably just wanted me to leave them alone. But I couldn’t stop myself from going to find them - I told myself that it was just in case there were any more chores that needed to be done, but if I was being honest it was probably because I was holding out for the slim chance they’d invite me into the bedroom to watch them fuck.

I found them on the stairs, headed up to bed.

“Hi,” I managed to squeak. “Is there anything you guys need? Before I go to bed?”

“We’re fine, thanks babe,” Winston replied, not really even looking at me.

I stood there, watching them climb the stairs. I knew I shouldn’t say anything, but the words were busting to get out of me. I needed him to acknowledge what he’d said tonight - what had seemed like nothing to him, but represented the end of the whole world as I knew it.

“You’re moving in with him?” The words echoed in the cavernous room and hung in the air all around me.

Winston turned around and looked at me, properly. “Yeah.” For the first time in weeks he didn’t just look disinterested, he actually looked sorry for me.

“For good?”

He nodded.

“So…” It almost hurt to ask the question: “So, we’re over? You’re leaving me?”

“No, not at all!” Winston shook his head emphatically. He took a few steps down the stairs, like he was coming to grab me in his arms and comfort me; but then he stopped as though he’d realised that was a weird thing to do. “Nick, I still love you. You’re still my husband and I want it to stay that way, as long as you still want to be my husband.”

“Of course I do. I just don’t understand. I never see you. You’re moving in with him, permanently. Without even telling me. How can you say you still want to be with me.”

“I don’t know.” He sounded irritated, like he was annoyed at himself for not knowing the answer to the question. “This situation is new to me and I don’t really know what it all means.”

“Tell me what you do know then,” I demanded.

“Okay, fine. I know I don’t want to fuck you anymore. I know that my physical relationship is with Callum now, because he gives me stuff you never could. I know that you’re a cuckold, and this is your place, knowing your husband’s getting taken care of by a real man. Our relationship’s going to be different from now on - I mean, it already is, right? We’ll need to work it out as we go. But don’t expect me to be home. And don’t expect me to make time for you when Callum’s around. Because I’m his now.”

I nodded, accepting everything he’d said.

Callum took Winston by the hand, kissed him tenderly on the forehead, and without another word led him up the stairs. Callum didn’t even bother looking at me, but Winston turned back once more. “Goodnight, Nick,” he said, with pity in his eyes and his voice. “Make sure you remember to enjoy this, okay?”

I just stood there as they disappeared, trying to process what Winston had said. I thought back to that night I’d dropped him off outside this house; I’d never thought for a second that it would end up like this. But to be honest, part of me had always thought that this scenario was the inevitable conclusion of my cuckolding kink. All it had taken was a man who was good enough to give up one-night stands and keep coming back to him for more.

I don’t know how long I stood there, staring into space. But eventually I snapped out of it when I started to hear Winston moaning, taking Callum’s cock. I slowly climbed the stairs, listening carefully to his cries and trying to imagine each thrust of Callum’s cock inside him. By the time I got to the top of the stairs I was so horny I could feel the wetness in my pants from my leaking dick. I ran down the hall to my room, shut the door behind me, pulled out my dick, and started to stroke it to the sound of them fucking.

Of course, I came after about ten minutes, squirting a load of cum all over my chest. And of course, they were nowhere near done. For ages I listened to the sound of them fucking. On and on, Callum pleasured him relentlessly. It was completely, utterly obvious why Winston would choose sex with Callum over me.

Eventually it had gone on so long that even I - the desperate, neglected cuckold who’d longed for so long to be here just to listen to them - was bored of listening. So I switched on the TV and watched the last half of some old movie I didn’t even know the name of.

By the end of the movie, the noises had stopped. It was after one in the morning. I figured I should get some sleep myself, so I turned off the light and got into bed. But as I lay there, getting semi-erect all over again thinking about the two of them spent and asleep in each other’s arms, I couldn’t sleep at all.

In the end I couldn’t help myself though. I threw the covers off, climbed out of bed, and went out into the hallway.

I walked as silently as I could. The hallway down the staff’s end of the house was dark and windowless, but I knew that once I found the place where it turned ninety degrees, it was basically just a straight line to the main part of the house. Closer to the centre of the house and the main stairwell, the big windows let in white moonlight that illuminated the floor and helped me get my bearings. From there, narrow windows punctuated the corridor the rest of the way to Callum’s bedroom, lighting my way.

As I got closer to his room, every footstep I made sounded like tap-dancing shoes in huge cavern, and my breath - even though I was trying to barely breathe at all - sounded like a roar. This was such a stupid idea: I was sure I was going to wake them up, they’d both be furious at me for not respecting their privacy, and I’d never be allowed back. I told myself I needed to just go back to bed. But I couldn’t. I was so close, and I needed to see them sleeping together.

After what seemed like an endless, slow creep, I finally arrived at the bedroom door. To my dismay, it was shut. That’s a sign, I told myself. Just go back to bed. But I’d come too far now. I clutched the handle, my hand shaking. I started to turn it.

If I made a noise now there was no turning back. All I could do was follow though, and be prepared for the consequences.

But the door latch opened silently. I slowly pushed the door open a crack, then stopped. I waited in absolute silence, holding my breath to listen for the sound of them stirring. But all I heard coming from the room were slow, deep breaths.

I pushed the door open slightly. I couldn’t see much, but I was confident there was no movement. I pushed it open a little more, until it was open wide enough that the moonlight allowed me to see what was inside.

There they were, peacefully sleeping. Callum lay on his back, one arm around Winston, who lay with his head nestled into Callum’s shoulder. Winston’s arm stretched across Callum’s chest, his hand resting on Callum’s shoulder. Callum’s chin and mouth rested on Winston’s head, as though he’d been tenderly kissing him goodnight on the forehead and had just fallen asleep that way. They fit together perfectly, and even in their sleep they couldn’t bring themselves to be apart.

It was just like I’d imagined it. Seeing them in such a perfect, blissful sleep together in each other’s arms stung. I felt physically sick looking at them, like I’d keen kicked in the guts. It was completely, unquestionably obvious how perfect they were together. And I knew that meant that from now on, sneaking glances of them like this would be as close as I’d ever get to my husband again.

With a sudden, overwhelming urgency I pulled the door as far shut as I could as quickly as I could without making a noise. I crept down the stairs as hurriedly as I could while still staying silent. And as soon as I was far enough away for it to be safe, I pulled out my erect penis and started jacking off feverishly, the image of them sleeping still etched into my brain. Within seconds I was ejaculating all over the floor, holding my breath as I did to stop from crying out.

Once I’d cum I let myself breathe again, trying to keep silent as my chest heaved. Feeling suddenly ridiculous, I realised I needed to clean up the mess I’d made. So I quickly pulled off my t-shirt and used it to mop the semen up off the floor.

I headed back to my bedroom. By the time I got there my eyes were welling up with tears at the realisation that I had well and truly lost my husband to a man who made him far happier. I crawled into the bed, and finally let myself make a sound as I sobbed myself to sleep.