Date: Sun, 29 Jul 2007 18:11:24 -0700
From: Jay roberts <diplomat1501@msn.com>
Subject: "Bob, Betty and Bi-Sex, Part One" by Jay Roberts   Bi Escounters

==I write for sex-obsessed folks like me, not for kids under 18, not for
prudes or those ruled by prudes.  So kids and prudes....leave!


I am a true bisexual, though people scoff at the entire idea. I have
measured by responses to both sexes and while it tilts slightly in favor of
women, the effects are equally strong.  I have felt heart-pounding crushes
for gals; not so much for guys.  Guys have to be right there, pressed
against me for that to occur.

I am blessed in my appearance and it gives me lots of attention plus the
luxury of choice for sexual partners.  I am committed to lots of sex;
perhaps because I am still young: only twenty-one.  But just being at that
magical age does, itself, doesn't guarantee being delightfully pursued by
both sexes, but if you can imagine a six footer, perfect skins on face and
body, arresting turquoise eyes and crowned with a luxurious head of blond
curls, you have a package that is irresistible to most humans.

An example of my appeal: yesterday I was in a New York City museum, which
one is unimportant.  I was taking a leak at one of the open urinals, one of
sixteen (I count everything).  A slim Asian lad came into the men's room,
empty except for we two.  He glanced at me, took the urinal, two away from
me, a choice that was not normal.  A straight guy would have taken the one
farthest away and turned to hide his stuff.  But not my neighbor, he opened
his belt, dropped his pants below his balls, took out his fawn-colored
prick, shook it, as if he was an office seeker and proceeded to let it
hang, unemployed for a long time.  He stared at me.  When I allowed my eyes
to turn toward him, he lifted his eyebrows and gestured toward my cock that
was just emitted the last few drops.  I knew immediately what he was
asking, silent movie style.  I nodded, the boy was young, cute and
charmingly bold.  He feel to his knees, stuck out his tongue, licked my
stuff in a friendly, how-to-you-do fashion.  He noted that I stiffened up,
and considered that as an invitation and began a vigorous suck.  He was
fucking good at his chosen job.  In less time than I would have preferred,
I moaned softly, gave two grunts, and delivered the goods; lots of it.  He
swallowed gamely, but when he rose there were dots of my essence on his tan
chin.  He mumbled a spooge-blubbling thanks, zipped and left.  That was
nice, I was satisfied, at least for the next hour.

I walked along an exhibit of Greek and Roman statues.  Shit, these guys
were great, though small prick-wise.  I loved their noses, especially.
Those straight, strong things that went right up to the forehead without
the usual dips that ours do.  I think maybe my nose is a little like that.
Anyway as I rounded a very large, perhaps eight-foot statue of a young
athlete I encountered a young man around the ass-of the statue that is-a
lovely muscular ass.  I generally prefer pert ones, but there is a lot to
say for big ones.

This young man stopped me in my tracks.  You remember I told you that I get
that effect from gals, not guys, but this was different.  For a moment I
couldn't breathe and I think I let out a little sound.  He glanced as me
and walked away.  There must have been something about this boy that
affected me so.  He was about my age, beardless, his face devoid of
character lines, his hair cropped close, large eyes with untrimmed eyebrows
and a muscular physique.  I took him to be a little shorter than me.  He
was wearing a wife-beater, exposing big arm muscles and thick forearms.  A
crazy thought came to me: he greatly resembled an action figure I had as a
child.  Perhaps that was his effect on me.  As he walked away, shit, he had
that large, big-cheeked ass like the statue.

I did something I have never done before: I followed him.  He was way down
the end of the passageway leading to the French impressionist exhibit.  I
saw him enter.  I entered.  He was sitting on a bench and looking at one of
the paintings.  I started at the door and slowly made my way from painting
to painting, pretending to study them.  Now normally in my life, my looks
would attract and I wouldn't have to do anything but just wait.  No so with
GI Joe.  He continued to stare at the painting, then took out a notebook
and wet a pencil and made some notes.  Nice tongue I thought, long, and
bright pink.  He was a healthy bugger.  But the bugger paid me no attention
whatsoever.  Then he got up and walked out.  I followed shamefully.  Shit,
I was now a full-fledged stalker.

I lost him in the maze of the passages, but found him against looking at an
Egyptian mummy of a princess.  I joined him.  Now or never.  "A charming
wrap, don't you think?" I cracked, hoping it was funny.

He laughed briefly.  What a sound, deep, crackly and penis stiffening.  "I
think it needs a cleaning before the ball.  No?"

It was my turn to guffaw, I muffed it, sounding giggly.  He turned toward
me and projected his full manliness in my direction.  It was so powerful, I
had to take one step back.  "You following me, guy?"

"I...I...I, yes I am.  There is something about you that fascinates me."
Wow, that was risky.  I might sound like a molester, which I wish I was and
could, at least toward him.

"You want to pick me up, is that the idea?"

"Yes."  This couldn't be me, me who everyone wants to bed.

He studied me.  He even walked around behind me, as if I was a statue.
Finally he said, "Nice."

"What's nice, my ass."

"All of you.  The whole package is nice.  My sister would love you."

"Sister, I was kinda thinking....you."

"What's your name?"

"Craig," I said.

He held out a ham-like hand.  "Bob."

There is something about his hand, it made my normal hand feel small, it
also was smooth and warm.  I became aware that my cock was pushing out the
white, short-shorts, I was wearing and he noticed and smiled.

"I don't make it with boys....usually, unless it is in a three-some, but
you are a nice one.  Would you like to come up to my apartment and meet my
sister, Betty?"

"Sure.  A three-some is toothsome to me."

He put his arm on my shoulder.  "Hey, you're fun.  It's just down the
block, a white-stone."

It was quite a place, a lot of money here, I thought.  He used his key, we
entered the little lobby and a two-person elevator was waiting.  We
squeezed in.  It was intimate, I could smell him: a mixture of
showered-that-morning body odor and a lemony scent.  I was a little dizzy
from him or the cologne.

The elevator was a slow one, but I enjoyed every moment, finally it stopped
with a sharp jump and I fell against Bobby's bulgy arm.  It was smooth
against my bare arm and I got a more concentrated whiff of his smell.  He
pushed me to a vertical position with his big hands.  I closed my eyes,
enjoying the moment.  We stepped out into a tasteful foyer, a Chinese vase
on a black lacquer table, one framed picture of a Chinese letter that I
hoped meant happy sex.  "It means long life," Bob said, reading my mind.
He called out in his basso, "Betty, you decent, I have fresh meat here."

Oh no, I thought.  This might turn out to be an unpleasant experience.  I
might be drugged or raped.  Who are these people?  What a dope I am to
follow my cock to this strange place, but then Betty come into the foyer,
her family's characteristically large hand proffered.  "Oh you are
gorgeous. Bobbie has such good taste. Come in, Martini's at the ready."

Betty was the absolute female version of Bob.  She was not so chucky,
rather just strong, like a female athlete.  She was dressed in black shorts
and a simple white blouse.  I could see her strong lets.  She also had the
smooth face with no character lines and she kept her eyebrows thick.  I
noted that her eye color was the same as Bob's, dark brown.  Both Betty and
Bob spoke in an accent that suggested that English was not their first
language.  Later I found out a lot about them.  They were born a year
apart. Betty was the elder.  She described them as fraternal twins with
Bobbie being a late arrival.  Yes they were born in Sweden.  "We studied
English beginning with first grade.  "You have to, no one is gong to learn
Swedish."

She poured the drinks.  I sat down on an easy chair and sipped my drink.
"Bob is too young to drink, at nineteen.  Say you are too Betty.  However,
I am perfectly legal."

Bob asked if I am careful to do everything legal.  "Why do you ask?"

"How about trying our water bong?"

Now I don't do drugs and don't drink much.  It cuts down on sexual
abilities, but what the hay,

Bob busied himself in packing the bowl and filling the water holder.  "I
use lavender flavoring."

While he did that, I got the third degree from Betty who moved over and sat
on the arm of my chair.  This put her in a position to touch me a lot.  Her
reactions to my remarks caused lots of touching and before long I was
beginning to breathe deeply.

I told her that I graduated Princeton with a MBA and now worked in my
father's brokerage house.  "My, my, so young, only twenty one, you must
have skipped grades.  So handsome for a smart boy."

I was going to answer something stupid when Bob shoved the mouthpiece into
my mouth.  I took a drag.  It was nice and cool and the favoring helped.
As I held the smoke and handed the mouthpiece to Bob, I found that I was
smiling.  Betty noticed.  "See Craig this is happy stuff.  Our boy here is
real happy.  Aren't you darling?  Take off your shoes and socks and wiggle
your cute Ivy League toes for us.  Stupidly I obeyed.  I'm not sure why,
but I felt really comfortable with them.

Another pull on Puff the Magic Dragon and I noticed that I was feeling
warm.  After all my shoes were off, now came my shirt.  Ah, the AC in the
room made my nipples harden, but it felt nice.  "Where's Bob?" I slurred.

"He's in the shower.  This shit really gets to him and he'll have to take a
short nap.  But sweetie, I'm here to entertain you."

I felt so tired I could hardly hold the pipe mouthpiece.  Betty held it for
me.  That was nice, I rested my head against the pillow of the couch.  "I
heard Betty say, "I want to kiss that soft baby mouth.  Is that okay?"

I lisped, "Sure" and I saw her smooth face hovering in front of me.  I
closed my eyes.  I felt the warm lips against mine and I dove into the
sensation, hurling myself into a swirling pattern of horny sensation.  The
lips were insistent.  A tongue forced its way into my mouth and licked my
tongue avidly.  Then it was removed.  I looked up, there was Bob naked, his
long pale cock pointing at me, the head bore a large bead of pre cum.

"Come on queer, suck it."

I was feeling almost hypnotized, unable to resist his command.  His cock
head rested on my lips.  I could taste his pre cum, sweet and sour at the
same time. "Open your mouth blondie."  He slapped my face hard bringing
tears to my eyes.  I docilely took the flesh rod into my mouth.  "Thanks
that's the way.  Is this your first time?"

I nodded, waggling his cock as my head moved.  "You've been spoiled by
hungry queers, now you can find out what they loved so much.  Now suck
hard, like you mean it."

I was just like all the ones who gave in to me.  I sucked like a bitch,
moaning in pleasure.  Then I felt Betty's hands opening up my pants.  She
had something on her hands, lube, I think, and she began wanking me.

I was bucking my hips trying to get more feeling from her hands.  Bob was
beginning to make grunting noises.  He called to his sister.  "Bet, stick
your finger in my ass hole.  I'm going to cum."

His sperm jetted into my mouth in several large splashes.  I swallowed it
like a baby with a bottle.  When he finished he patted my head.  "Good work
curly, now let's tend to dear Bet."

"Okay Bobbie," I said in a small voice, "but I haven't cum yet"

"I don't give a shit.  Get busy on Bet's sweet pussy."

Betty lay on the couch, her legs up in the air.  I knelt down and licked
the inside of her thighs, "Do more, you wimp," scolded Bob, slapping me on
the ass.  "It's a nice ass, though."  He began stroking between my ass
cheeks.  I moaned in appreciation.  He rubbed my ass hole.  I moaned louder
into Betty's hole.  Then he jabbed his finger inside and felt for my
prostate.  When he found it, he began rapidly stroking it until I
involuntarily went into my orgasm, "Haw, that's just the way my doctor does
it when he wants a sperm sample.  I hope you enjoyed it.  Now get back to
Betty's oyster," My cock was still dripping from my cum.

I dove into her cunt, already wet with salty dew and began swirling my
tongue around, finding her hot button I narrowed my tongue and lashed at it
until she began to make singing noises.  She was on her way.  I fucked her
with my tongue until she clamped her strong athletic legs trapping my head
in a headlock.  She released as her final pulsations lessened.

We all quieted down.  I sat up on the couch, Bob was sitting on a chair
across from me and Betty had donned her terry robe and sat near me.
"Well," Bob said, "That was nice.  You did good, boy, but I think we ought
to call it a night.  I should invite you for dinner, but I am just beat
fella, okay?"

I nodded stupidly and got up and put my clothes on.

"You can find your way out can't you?  Oh, here's my card.  If you feeling
lonely or horny call us."

He took a card from a holder on an end table and gave it to me.  "Bye,
bye."

As I headed out the door I saw Bob pick Betty up and put her on his lap and
was kissing her neck.  I don't know what kind of creeps I fell in with, but
I needed fresh air.

End Part One

Do you think that Craig will never see them?  Wait for part two.