Posts tagged ‘being a good bisexual’

More hot three-way sex

Don’t have time to write a full-on post about this, so here’s a brief sex sketch:

Went through about three loads of sheets last weekend.

In the wee hours, Bran arrived after carousing with coworkers. “Get in the bed,” we chorused.
“Is there room for me?” he asked.
“Of course!” we answered.
Slipping in between our warm, soft, half-asleep bodies, he said, “I’m a lucky boy.”
A few minutes later, I said, “I’m a lucky girl.”
“And I’m lucky too!” said Kit.
In unison, the two of us said, “I’m lucky, you’re lucky, he’s lucky, we’re all lucky, the bannister’s lucky!”
“..the bannister’s sticky!” she finished, one-upping me on the Rocky Horror geekdom.

We did everything once and in most cases twice, but Bran couldn’t come. “You broke it!” he said.

In the morning, Kit sleeping on the floor next to the too-soft bed, he came across my belly, soft, sharp, matter-of-fact. Trembled. And set out across town for an unavoidable errand.

I leaned out the window to wave him goodbye, breasts shielded under the windowsill.

Later I came home to find Kit being naughty with my Hitachi. At the same moment, Bran called. “Get over here,” I said. And so he did.

Kit texted me last night asking if we wanted to do it again. It’s nice to know she likes us as much as we like her.

May 29, 2009 at 12:51 pm Leave a comment

This is what really happens in the sexy world of three-way dating

“Do you want to hang out with Kit tonight?” he asked.

I was halfway across town on the way to his house — my car is dying — and cranky anyway. Kit lives on my side of town. But when I’m wound tight like this, it’s better to have more people around. And besides… we both like Kit.

When I got to his street, the light was just beginning to die. Ah, 8:00 PM and still light in the sky! Springtime. Everywhere, plants having sex with each other, the glorious breeze, winter’s cold grip removed, going outside without armoring up first. And sex. Sex, sex, sex. Procreation, rebirth, sex.

Something in my middle sitting not quite right, difficult to describe. Maybe because it was Friday and Fridays are always hard, maybe because I’d spent the day in an airless room answering the same questions over and over again, hearing criticisms of a project I’ve been busting my ass on for more than two years.

But I parked my car on that street full of well-painted Victorians, the daffodils and the grape hyacinth and even the trees out in flower. And around the corner, down the block, in the twilight, comes Bran, orange shirt, khaki shorts, muscular legs, hands in pockets, calling my name. Smiling.

This time, we take his car across town. He listens to me try to untangle the tightly-wound, listens. Something most of my girlfriends never could do, despite their ovaries.

When we get to Kit’s house, she’s already dressed — a first. When I called her, on the way over, I told her I was going to have to grab her tits, and I do, as she’s leaning over to tie her shoes. Tomboy with big tits, that’s Kit. I’ve generally thought of myself more of an ass-man, but in truth I just like girls’ bodies, all their individual curves and crenelations.

She gives us each a kiss and in the last of the fading light we walk past the pond, down a bike path, to the restaurant. In the dark, we hold hands, all three. At one point, Bran stops and puts his arms around us both, turns us to look down the darkening path, at the long line of the pavement bisected with a painted line, at the pleasing repetition of low fence-posts, curving between the trees, still bare and reaching toward the deep-blue sky. He holds us close to him, to each other. I kiss him. I kiss her. She kisses him. We kiss each other. In the darkening sky, paused on the path, beside the water.

Kit brings out another side of me, the alterna-hipster-sex-positive-activist-radical-intellectual side of me. I wonder sometimes what it’s like for Bran to watch the two of us interacting. Does he think that this is somehow my authentic self, and not the quieter person I am when I’m with him? They’re both me, aspects of me, part of me, not all of me. Kit reminds me of myself at the age of 24.

As we turn from the path to the sidewalk, toward my sleepy little town center, she’s reading raunchy puns from her iPhone — a website that explains the hanky code. A moment ago I told them both about its origins in the Gold Rush days outside of San Francisco, when men outnumbered women ten to one, and men would place a hanky in their pocket to signal whether they would dance with other men — be the follower, as they call it now, in today’s less gender-specific partner-dancing venues.

Kit’s experience of the hanky code is more immediate. She knows the details: left for top and right for bottom. She looks up the colors on her iPhone.

“So I wear a red hanky in my left pocket because I’m a fisting top,” she says.

“These are my neighbors,” I remind her, as we approach the restaurant. And she is quieter than usual as we begin our meal. I have a sudden memory of my times with Angie, stifling myself, fitting myself into the boxes I thought would please her. But it’s too late. And at 35, with a corporate job, I do care what people think.

As we stand to leave, I forget myself, lean down to kiss her.

The ice cream place is closed, and Kit points out the little Indian grocery I always overlook. We go inside and she knows the names of all the pastries in the case, what is made with what. She makes this sleepy little neighborhood exciting and multicultural. She knows how to look.

She’s had GI surgery recently and dinner doesn’t sit well with her. She disappears into the bathroom for half an hour. Bran and I eat our Indian pastries, flip through my comic book collection. I step close to him, hold his head against my side. Lean down to kiss him.

We go into the bedroom to cuddle, Kit still in the bathroom. I have friends with IBD, Crohns, I know the best thing is just to let them be. But still, a guest in the house. “Leave your clothes on,” I tell Bran.

But after a few moments in the bed, I’ve shed my jeans. “I thought you said we had to leave our clothes on,” he counters.

“Is that what I said?”

“I don’t know. You make the rules.”

I like kissing Bran. I like breaking rules.

And still Kit in the bathroom, a little worried about her, not wanting to be rude, not wanting to start eating until everyone is served.

When she comes out, Bran and I are both fully dressed again. I pull her into my arms. “How do you feel?” I ask.

“I want to go home,” she says, little-girl, laughing at herself.

“I thought you might,” I reply.

“I feel drained,” she says.

“Well, it is all out of you now,” says Bran.

“So did I hear some spanking while I was in the bathroom?” she asks.

“Yes,” says Bran. “She almost came, you know.”

“I have come before, from him spanking me. Ejaculated and everything.”

“Hyperorgasmich bitch!”

We laugh. I take her in my arms again.

And we drive her home, kiss her good night, head back to his side of town.

“So next time, we take her to dinner afterward,” he says. The cool air through both windows, the night sky through the sun roof. Dinner in my tummy.

“I thought about that. But I wanted to eat, too.”

“So this was all part of your plan!”

“Yes, my evil plan! To… not have sex with Kit!”

Sex is nice. Sex is awesome. Sex with Kit and Bran together is especially awesome. But it’s not the only thing I like about Bran and me and our new girlfriend.

April 26, 2009 at 1:06 pm Leave a comment

100 sexxay things about Omnivore

Inspired by Wendy Blackheart at Heart Full of Black, I give you 100 things about me, the sex list (with some love and truth and beauty thrown in for good measure).

  1. I took my own virginity.
  2. No, really. With a small, pink, very ladylike bottle of roll-on deodorant. I broke my hymen, and that hurt a bit, and then I pushed the bottle in farther and it felt good. And then I stopped. Because I was afraid.
  3. This was after an aborted attempt to “give” my virginity to a boy in the back seat of a car.
  4. While he was pulling down my pants, I asked him if he had a condom. “No,” he said, rising up to kiss me, “but you don’t want a piece of plastic in you the first time, do you?”
  5. He couldn’t penetrate my little 13-year-old cunt.
  6. There was no foreplay, which probably didn’t help.
  7. We broke up soon afterward.
  8. I was 14 years old and a freshman in high school the first time I had sexual intercourse.
  9. I was 19 years old before I had sex without a condom.
  10. Twice I went to the same anonymous HIV-testing clinic with a man so we could fuck without a condom.
  11. I think it’s kind of romantic to go get STD screenings together.
  12. I paid attention during sex ed. Back then, they actually told you about the various forms of birth control and how to use them.
  13. According to the current abstinence-only curricula taught in public schools across the country, I am a piece of scotch tape that has been stuck to so many arms that it can no longer “bond” properly.
  14. I’d rather be a slut than a whore.
  15. I reclaimed the word “dyke” early on.
  16. I didn’t reclaim the word “slut” until I was over 30.
  17. I didn’t reclaim the word “bitch” until this year.
  18. I fell in love with a little red-haired girl when I was in the first grade.
  19. I fell in love with a little brown-haired boy when I was in the second grade.
  20. I told my fourth-grade teacher that I loved my best friend so much that if I could I would marry her. Her response shamed me deep into the closet for a decade.
  21. When I was a toddler, I remember discovering the interesting folds of my vagina while sitting in the living room watching TV. “That’s a private place to touch,” said my mother. “You should only touch that when you’re in the bath or in bed alone at night.”
  22. I didn’t have a real orgasm until I was in college.
  23. The boy who gave it to me was a black boy with a moustache. We were never really dating.
  24. He did it by going down on me with enthusiasm, and by doing it longer than anyone had done it before.
  25. The first time I ejaculated was with a small, hard plastic vibrator. I was about 19 years old.
  26. I had to throw away that futon less than a year later because it started to smell really funky.
  27. My boyfriend said “Are you sure it’s not pee?” the first time I came on his face.
  28. Later, I asked my girlfriend what it tasted like and she replied, “your hot, salty cum.”
  29. The first woman I fell in love with was a summer exchange student from a local community college.
  30. She gave me a tiny hickey, and when my mother asked me who had given it to me, I told her.
  31. My mother’s initial response was “Ew”.
  32. Later, my mother told me she loved me no matter who I was or who I was with. She bought me combat boots and a toolbox.
  33. It took me ten more years to realize I didn’t have to be butch to be a dyke.
  34. I didn’t come to terms with my bisexuality until five years after I came out of the closet.
  35. I used to call myself a traitor to my own kind.
  36. I am very, very good at eating pussy.
  37. I am very, very good at sucking cock.
  38. I can deep throat, but only if I’m really into the guy.
  39. Finger-fucking gives me carpal tunnel syndrome.
  40. I like 69ing, but I’d rather be on top.
  41. My favorite way to come is on my back, with intense stimulation on my clit.
  42. After I turned 30, I started having vaginal orgasms regularly and repeatedly.
  43. When I come during PIV sex, my cunt has been known to clench so hard it pushes my lover’s cock right out.
  44. I have been known to ejaculate from PIV sex.
  45. I have been known to ejaculate from a spanking.
  46. I think cybersex is cheating.
  47. I don’t think I’m really polyamorous, but I like to pretend when I’m single.
  48. I once spent seven years in a lesbian marriage (the old-school, illegal kind) that suffered from serious Lesbian Bed Death.
  49. I have cheated on more than one partner.
  50. The part of cheating I hate the most (in myself and in others) is the dishonesty.
  51. I like to have sex at least three times a week.
  52. I can go for extended periods of time without any kind of sexual contact, without missing it.
  53. Twice after long-term relationships I’ve used Craigslist to find and fuck a good assortment of lonely, horny men.
  54. Once I got an email from the girlfriend of a man I’d slept with once. It turned out that he had lied to me about being single. I apologized to her and confirmed that he and I had slept together.
  55. I have never had sex with a transgendered person.
  56. I find butch women very attractive, I’ve had sex with many “gay” men, but men in drag do nothing for me.
  57. I see transgendered people as my siblings in gender rebellion.
  58. I’ve fucked women with my “psychic cock” and made them come.
  59. I’ve come while fucking women with my psychic cock.
  60. All of my genderfuck is behavioral. On the outside, I’m very clearly a girl.
  61. I’ve taken people to task for using the word “queer” as a pejorative.
  62. I love the word “queer” because it includes all sorts of sexual and gender minorities.
  63. I have had lovers of many different races and nationalities.
  64. I lost count of the number of lovers I’ve been with sometime in my early 20s.
  65. I used to feel deeply ashamed for having so many sex partners.
  66. I have been deeply in love somewhere between four and six times in my life.
  67. I have never consistently enjoyed anal sex as much as I have with Bran.
  68. I didn’t come to terms with my BDSM tendencies until January 2008.
  69. The first time I heard about fisting was when Susie Bright came to speak at my college in the early 90s.
  70. Less than a month later, my tall, rangy boyfriend with the really large hands managed to fit all five fingers inside me.
  71. Cunnilingus is my favorite thing in the whole world.
  72. Sexual intercourse is my favorite thing in the whole world.
  73. Rubbing my face in a woman’s wet, juicy pussy is my favorite thing in the whole world.
  74. Group sex is my favorite thing in the whole world.
  75. The first time I made out with more than one boy was when I was 15 years old.
  76. My first threesome was with two men, as a freshman in college.
  77. FFM is my favorite threesome combination.
  78. Bran and I have fantasized about bringing a submissive woman to bed with us.
  79. I fall in love very easily.
  80. I’ve often confused lust for love.
  81. I’ve had sex in the back of a car on Highway One in Northern California, on the beach outside of Santa Cruz, in a hotel room with lots of other people having sex around me, on the kitchen floor, on a golf course, while driving, and probably lots of other places I can’t remember.
  82. I find double-penetration (one in the cock, one in the pussy) fascinating.
  83. I have never been fucked in the ass and the pussy at the same time by two actual men with actual penii.
  84. I have experienced double penetration twice with a man and a handy dildo, and each time it was AWESOME.
  85. Once, when I was walking by some neighbors, I heard them repeating something I’d shouted rather loudly the night before.
  86. The thing I’d shouted was, “Oh, baby, fuck me in the ASS!”
  87. The windows had been open.
  88. I was embarassed.
  89. I’ve let a butch woman get away with emotional and physical abuse I would never have tolerated from a man.
  90. I attended a support group at a local women’s shelter to get the moral support I needed to get out of that relationship.
  91. I thought I was different than all the other women in the room because I was gay and they were straight, but our stories ended up being exactly the same.
  92. On two separate occasions I have violently pushed my female lovers away from me.
  93. I used to think that men were made of iron, that I could say all sorts of mean things to them and they wouldn’t feel it.
  94. The only time I’ve ever hit a man was during a scene.
  95. I love to wrestle and win.
  96. I love to wrestle and lose.
  97. I love to dominate my lovers.
  98. With Ace, I discovered exactly how sexy it is to hurt someone.
  99. It’s only sexy if they’re into it too.
  100. I like to say I love power exchange more than sadomasochism, but sometimes I wonder if that’s true.

September 16, 2008 at 9:10 pm 9 comments


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