Two Bi Two Ch. 13-14
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(Note to readers: Click on my profile, or the ‘stories’ link, to find the earlier chapters. Young city-dwellers Sherman and Kristi, and middle-aged suburbanites Brenda and Garth, are a full-fuckpile foursome. Most recently they helped Garth explore his bicuriosity. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older. Those situations include anal, interracial, lesbian, and gay male sex, along with multibody braiding and chaining. To be absolutely clear: In what’s posted here, there is gay male anal and oral sex, to completion, and sex with a much larger group. Some of the sex is physically rough, but all of it is consensual. Frequent readers of my writings should be aware that this story doesn’t have my usual upbeat tone.)
Chapter 13: Discomfort
My eyes were still opening when I felt a tiny bite on my left ear.
“You’re having too much fun,” I observed. “What’s up?”
“A hall pass request. I want Garth, in a way that makes him really uncomfortable, maybe almost-public. But so he’ll do me anyway.”
“I’m not that pussy-whipped,” I said. “Of course I’m going to say no, and for the reason you used. You can only have him while I’m around.” I didn’t mean that, this was pure spite.
Her smile actually grew. “So now I can resent something about you.”
“So this was a trick? You don’t actually want Garth?”
“Sure I do. And I want him scared out of his wits while we fuck. But this was about you. I’ve been feeling too comfy. I’ll find a way to get back at you for this, and I’ll enjoy it.”
Sidebar. I don’t mind a little game-playing. Sometimes I like it. But it’s not something I want to cook up myself. I’d rather do without it. And now Kristi was pushing something I genuinely disliked.
“If you want me to annoy you, I could leave a week’s worth of used socks on the floor.”
“If you think that’s comparable, it proves that you’re too comfy.” She raised the covers. Her bare legs swept to the floor. “I think we’re due for a little beneficial discomfort.”
There was nothing more said (or done) about this, through to the end of the week. We were our normal selves, I guess, during an event we thought would benefit from normality.
There’s more to our lives than sex, spousal and beyond, achieved or deferred. There’s also more than work, although on some weeknights that’s not easy to remember. There are our emotional and intellectual interactions with other people, with no physical component other than the occasional handshake or hug. We have relatives, and while we aren’t close with them (despite living in the same area), we generally get along. They accept that we keep our distance nearly all of the time.
A party was thrown for the fiftieth birthday of Kristi’s mother. We attended, of course. The presence of more than twenty people would allow us to fly under the radar, knowing that Juliana would be the focus of nearly all attention. Kristi’s marriage to an African-American was now old news for almost everyone, and the peccadillos of our sex lives were unknown to them. Even those who were aware of Kristi’s interests assumed that her taking a husband had ended her youthful experimenting. These weren’t the sort of people who attended SafeSpace2U.
The potential for rain kept most of the party inside the suburban home where Kristi had grown up. Parents would pick moments to get their young kids out to the back yard to run off excess energy, and smokers would retreat to the driveway to light up, but otherwise people were enclosed. In the early going, we drifted among the living-dining rooms, kitchen (where we briefly attempted to help), and basement rec room, where the flatscreen played a loop of stills and videos from Juliana’s life.
We may have looked puzzled by this, because Kristi’s younger brother Clint got close enough to us to murmur, “Isn’t this the sort of thing that’s done at funerals?”
Kristi nodded. I murmured back, “Whose idea?”
“Josie, far as I know.” Their older sister had been in charge of the entire event.
Kristi shrugged and said, “Guess it could be done for birthdays too. We’ve seen wedding videos that go on forever.”
Clint half-smiled. “There’s only one thing everyone will remember from tonight.”
We said nothing, but gave him inquiring looks. Tall and curly-haired, Clint was most of the way past the acne that had made him a shy loner. He looked pretty good, and seemed relaxed and confident.
He merely added the other half to his smile, and drifted to another group of partiers.
I let Kristi read the rooms, and the extent to which her mother was occupied with other guests (and obligated to be). Kristi then decided when we’d make our approach. My wife’s timing was, of course, perfect, and the hellos and smiles and hugs went well. Juliana had grown comfortable around me before I married into her family, and Mitch had come around soon after, thanks to me not only having an engineering degree but getting ankara iri göğüsleri olan escortlar a job that required it.
I’m never far from awareness of the 1967 Peter, Paul, and Mary song, “I’m in Love With a Big Blue Frog.” One of the payoffs is, He’s not as bad as he appears, He’s got rhythm and a PhD. Half a century later, my BS degree is enough.
Kristi’s father and I always had talking points when we needed them. Today we settled on powder metallurgy. This allowed Kristi and her mother to exchange an amused eye-roll for an indulgent head-shake, as their men plunged into jargon.
Our intermarriage has gone down fairly easily among our relatives. More than it might have two generations ago, or even one. On my side, there are some overly formal interactions with Kristi, which she is usually able to soften with her charm. The closest anyone ever comes to disapproval is my Aunt Tilda, who on more than one occasion has said, “That Darlene, I always thought she was nice.”
At this gathering, however, I was merely Kristi’s husband. The closest thing to unwanted attention came in the form of a pointed remark from Juliana’s sister Belle, on our lack of children. A quick glance from Kristi was enough to delegate this to me, and I smoothly explained that we wanted to be clear of student loan debt before starting a family.
We were already clear of student loan debt. My wording was chosen carefully so as not to be a lie.
Belle had a specific responsibility at the party: Keeping Juliana out of the kitchen, where Josie was in charge. She turned out snacks, and plates of dinner morsels, to be scattered on the dining room table, and then taken by strolling guests.
Finally, Josie brought out the cake. People were hustled from the rest of the house to living-dining, to cheer the butter-cream frosted tower, and its recipient.
The cake was festooned with LED candles, programmed by Mitch to darken on Juliana’s first blow, then illuminate again on her second, indicating that her wish was for life to go on. This drew more applause. Weeks earlier, Juliana had insisted that she receive no presents, instead inviting donations to various charities.
“Thank you all for joining us here today,” said Juliana to her multitude. “And especially to Josephine, for running the show.” There was applause, which Josie acknowledged from the archway to the kitchen.
“I won’t prattle on,” Juliana continued. “I’ll just say that life lately has been pretty good, mainly because of this guy.” She leaned into Mitch, who smiled and hugged around her back. “And the brood we spawned.” There was some light chuckling.
“And what’s important about that,” she said, “is doing what we can to help, even after they leave the nest. I’d like Clint to come up now, and tell you about what he shared a while ago with his proud parents.”
Clint still had the smile from earlier as he moved into the crowd’s focus. I was so locked in to traditional family tropes that my first guess was that the folks were helping him with a down payment on a condo.
Wrong. He took his mother’s hand, faced the crowd, and said, “I’m gay.”
There were some gasps. The one I noticed most was Josie’s. I looked at Kristi, who merely raised an eyebrow.
This crowd was generally tolerant and secular, so anyone who didn’t feel good about this kept it to themselves.
After the transition from speechmaking to conversation, Kristi and I expressed support to Clint and his parents. We were able to keep our curiosity quiet, because Josie did some obvious blurting out. Clint answered that he didn’t have a boyfriend, but did have some experience. I noted in particular that Mitch said little, but his smile struck me as one of relief, maybe from no longer having to keep a secret.
On the drive home, this was our main topic.
“I can’t say as I’m surprised, actually,” said Kristi, “but I won’t claim that I saw it coming. The acne always kept him in his shell. He didn’t hang with guys much, either. He spent a lot of time gaming online.”
She hadn’t asked, but she probably would, so I said, “I didn’t gaydar him. But I don’t do that much anyway, and I only notice it if I think someone’s interested in me.”
She nodded, and said nothing.
“And, no,” I continued, “This has nothing to do with whether I come out.”
She probably caught that I said whether instead of when, which I didn’t realize until I’d said it.
That realization made me question my sincerity.
The following weekend, The Foursome was scheduled. Our email traffic was, as always, free of salacious detail. Even in PMs, however, Garth and Brenda didn’t share much beyond bawdy wisecracks. I suspected that they still felt burned about our snooping on their swingers’ club.
On the Tuesday before The Foursome, Kristi didn’t get home for dinner. She texted me, saying only not to wait.
We had no hall passes in effect. Only her lingering pursuit of ‘beneficial discomfort.’
She elvankent götü büyük escortlar breezed in around 9:30, moved in for a quick kiss, then immediately away, to her work-at-home desk.
As she was getting her laptop out of her pack, I inhaled again to confirm, then said, “Drambuie.”
She looked up, very uninnocently. “What, Dear?”
I pulled up a kitchen chair, flipped it backwards, and sat so I could rest folded arms on the back and lean at her. “Your makeup is completely intact. There’s no disarray to your clothes. Every hair is literally in place. You had one drink. You weren’t with anyone who interests you.”
“Aha!” she said. “You’ve exposed my complete lack of guilt.”
“And this was how you expressed your resentment?”
“I flirted with two guys, legends in their own minds. I took their business cards, and didn’t give them mine.” She reached into her purse, pulled out the cards, and ripped them in half. “I’ve already blocked their numbers, in case they somehow track me down. Aaaaand, a security professional has many ways to make a potential stalker very unhappy.”
“Especially a pro who had only one drink.”
“I was hoping for a little upset from you,” she said, reclining in her chair. “But I didn’t work very hard at this.”
“Did you eat?”
“There are really good bar snacks at Eagle’s Roost.”
“Is this over now? Did you sufficiently enjoy getting back at me?”
She flashed a grin. “This time.”
She tried to turn away, but quickly I took her hands in mine. She gave me A Look, because I did something so saccharine, but doing it expressed my emotional state.
“I’m not feeling good right now,” I told her. “I’m a little scared. My ‘discomfort’ isn’t ‘beneficial.’ I know you’re getting amped by tiptoeing on the edge, but I have to ask if you remember what it was like when we drove each other apart.”
“I do.” She smirked. “But maybe I’m not worried about that now. If you still are…”
The smirk faded as she looked closely at me. Her hands returned my light squeeze. “Well,” she said, “that’s something I’ll have to think about.”
That tiny expression of concern was enough to calm my seas.
This gathering of The Foursome had us in our usual high spirits and eager flesh, but it also reduced further my worries about whether Kristi was moving beyond her relationship with me. Her passion was intense at times, but there was more of her self-mockery, and moments of simple, genuine affection for her lovers.
She demanded that Garth and I try to get both penises into her quim, and while we did configure that, it didn’t feel like much for any of us. Before long she laughed it off and said, “Pussy and ass, one each, please. I guess I shouldn’t take porn so seriously.” The filling of those holes, with a mouthful of Brenda’s boobs, got her to a wildly spasming climax.
The main event was a more advanced gay encounter for Garth. This time, though, Brenda said little, hanging back to watch. She got Kristi to do the same.
Garth and I caressed and kissed, without anything feminine to dilute the effect.
There was something about this that our guests weren’t telling us…or just me? Was Kristi clued in through a PM I never saw?
In the world of me-me-me, recent events made me wonder if this had to do with my closeting.
Garth said, “I’d like to go further. Whatever you want from a male lover. And I want the first penis in my ass to be yours.”
He separated and got on all fours, legs well separated.
I took a moment, and chose words.
“There are plenty of gay men who don’t order everything on the menu,” I said. “Just as with every other human, however self-identified. I’ll tell you right now: While I sometimes enjoy a prick going up my ass, I wouldn’t enjoy your truncheon doing that.”
He looked impatient as he turned his head to face me. “Got it. I’m okay with that being erased from the to-do list. But do you understand that as long as the list exists, it’s going to nag at me?”
I did. All four of us were doers. Procrastination was a high crime.
It wasn’t enough for Garth to know in the abstract that he was bisexual. He needed physical sensations to form his experience base.
“All right, Buddy,” I said, rolling on a condom and lubing it, “I’m going to fuck your ass, and cum.”
“Yeah,” he said, facing away again.
Kristi and Brenda sat side by side at the headboard, watching, not in contact.
I lubed Garth’s anus, and a couple inches up the rectum. He shifted weight a little, but didn’t wince, and he breathed normally.
I entered slowly, hand on the shaft to ease the glans past the sphincter. Then I put both hands on the outside of his butt cheeks, to keep us both steady, and pushed in the rest of the way. I think he grunted a little, but I couldn’t tell, because I whoofed a little.
I’m not sure if he gripped actively, or if our connection was just tight, but etimesgut çıtır escortlar I thickened and hardened more. New partner, unknown physiology, best to get this done promptly. I pumped, increasing speed when he seemed to be okay with it.
When I got to the edge, I let myself soar past it. My spasms were rapid, my eyes shut tight. At the first feeling of my rampdown, I withdrew.
I reached to give him a slap and grab on his shoulder, very bro-to-bro, and said “Thanks man.”
“Yeah,” he huffed.
I then noticed that, from my angle, I couldn’t see his cock. I got my head low enough to see between his legs. I still couldn’t see it, which must mean that his balls blocked the view of an erection pressing into his gut. Brenda’s pegging might have made his prostate responsive.
“You need it?” I asked.
“Pick a site.”
Fair enough. This might finish the to-do list.
Garth rolled onto his back, sending his flagpole waving back and forth in the air. I went prone between his legs, propped on my elbows, and set to work with one hand on balls, the other on base, and mouth taking in about half of the swollen red shlong.
Again, I saw no reason to prolong what was already long. Neither did he. On maybe the eighth gulp he started sharing his bounty, with high-pitched howling. I didn’t want to swallow, but at least wanted him to gunk in an enclosure. Every few seconds I drooled out what I could.
Brenda was right about his taste. Something no man can control.
In time we flopped uselessly. Sweat all over the place, semen trickling from my mouth to his belly, butt stench finally getting through to my nose. I had an impulse to yank the sheets and run nude with them to the basement laundry room we shared with the other residents.
Yet I heard this from Brenda, in a slow whisper: “That was hot.”
“Yeah,” I heard from Kristi in a puzzled tone. “It was!”
I turned my smeared, smiling face their way. “You’re just jealous.”
And then we were a giggling pile of four dogs.
Fun carried over, into and out of the shower. When we were all dressed, though, Brenda and Garth sat on the bed. As before, obviously not ready to go home.
Kristi and I joined them. My wife didn’t seem as puzzled as I was.
“Tonight,” said Brenda, “you’ve finished giving us what we hoped for from you.”
I took this to mean that Garth’s to-do list closed their bi-poly adventuring. “Finished?” I said, scowling. “So now you’re breaking up with us?”
It was our guests’ turn to be alarmed, as we had been on their patio furniture. “What? No!” Garth blurted.
“I meant that you fulfilled our fantasies!” Brenda followed. “Hell, we don’t what this to stop! We’ll be here any time you let us in! What I was going to say is, now we can give you what you’ve hoped for.”
“Which is–” I started to ask, but a glance showed me a smile from Kristi.
Garth said, “We can bring you to–” He ostentatiously made finger quotes. “–The Conestoga Western Lodge, as our guests.” His look to Kristi seemed bewildered. “If that’s what you really want.”
She was almost bashful as she squeezed his hand. “It is. I know it may not live up to what I think it could be, but if not, I can accept that and move on.” She looked at me. “Either way, I can then stop being such a worry for the man I love.”
In that moment, giving me her most sincere doe-eyed affection, she no longer was.
“A hot young pussy pulls a train of horny mid-life guys,” said Brenda. “What could possibly go wrong?”
Kristi gave her a serious look. “Will that be a problem for their wives?”
As this exchange went on, I was less convinced that Kristi knew this in advance. She had a hunch, and hoped.
“It might. But most of them are quite foxy. I was worst-casing the last time we talked about this. Maybe too much.” Brenda shimmied a bit, to the extent possible while cross-legged. Her smile showed her ranking among the foxes. “They could cougar after young guys if they wanted. Husbands beware.”
“Foxes, cougars,” said Garth. “Pick a species.”
When they were on the way out, Brenda took me aside. “I know that the club isn’t your jam, as people your age say. But when we get there, The Old Broad thinks it’ll be Go Time.”
Chapter 14: Covered Wagon, Naked Train
Garth and Brenda asked that we meet them at a pan-Asian restaurant in the near suburbs. I noticed as we approached that this town seemed to cater to people ending their fling with city life, but trying to retain their hipness. Here was a coffee joint, there a music bar, farther on a revamped movie house touting art films.
Kristi seemed to shudder as she looked out and said, “Should I be house-hunting?”
I couldn’t even follow with a related quip. I was nervous about tonight, but also preoccupied about things in general. Not just my closeting. I wondered if the recent prod about our lack of kids was getting to Kristi.
Recently we had both turned twenty-six. I mean, twenty-six?
The restaurant was bright and lively and noisy. When Brenda caught our eyes and waved us over, we settled with our lovers into a tall, padded, rounded booth in a corner. We found that we could talk here in our normal voices, with no chance of being overheard.
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