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A Bisexual’s Surprise
‘OMG!’ (Oh, My God) I thought to myself. ‘How did I get myself into this mess? A giant cock in my mouth and my ass is on fire.’
Well, to be honest, I was in this mess because it’s what I wanted. For, you see, I am a middle-aged kinky guy who loves bondage games. And, I just discovered the joys of bisexual sex. Enjoying both cocks and pussies in a ménage-a-trios scene. Nothing could be finer.
Here I was: Living out a kinky dream. I was naked in a strange hotel room with two strange people. Kneeling on the floor, but bent over at the waist at the end of a large, king-size bed. My hands were cuffed behind my back. I was blindfolded and had a large ring-gag holding my mouth wide open. Of course, my mouth may have been open, but it was not empty. For a large 8 or 9 inch cock was plunging into its depths as I used my tongue for its stimulation. In until I started to gag, then back out. Repeat. Over and over. And, I knew that the end result would be a mouth of cum.
In addition, if I could see my ass, it probably would be bright red. For there was a lovely lady, who I believe was naked except for six-inch stiletto boots on her legs and a huge (about 10”) black strap-on dong hanging from her front, whipping it with a rather large, flexible, strap-like paddle. She was a tall, Amazon like lady. Blonde and beautiful. Big tits and ass. And, she was in command. Her hubby, the owner of the big cock plunging into and out of my mouth, was hers to control, too. She was running the show. And, I was in seventh heaven. All my kinkiest dreams were cuming true.
“Keep sucking, cumslut!” she yelled. “I won’t stop whipping your fat ass until my worthless slave cums in your mouth! And, don’t spill a drop, or I will beat you until you bleed!” My ass was really burning now. I did not know how much more I could take, but I was loving it so far.
I am sure you are wondering how a middle-aged, married guy could allow this to happen. Well, it’s a long story. Like most guys, my sexual beginnings were those of normal, over-sexed teenage boys. I was never an athlete. Tall, skinny and very uncoordinated. The kind of a boy that every one made jokes about in school. I wanted to date the more popular girls in the school, but none of them would be caught dead talking – yet along dating – the likes of me. Most of the girls who would talk to me were either homely, fat, or both. I was as shy as shy can be. Most of the girls who talked to me were equally shy. The conversations were always short. None of us had any people skills. Stereotypical nerds. And, like most high-school nerds, just admitting that I wanted to date one of these girls would make me susceptible to even more ridicule. Therefore, most of my sexual fantasies were played out in my dreams or with my best friend, Rosy Palm (my five fingered friend).
Of course, eventually I got over those issues, went to college, and met a lovely lady who was also shy and bashful. And, after a collegiate courtship, which included many horny sessions in the back seat of a car, we eventually got married and began raising two lovely kids of our own. During those early days of marriage, the kinky side of my sexual personality was deeply repressed. In fact, I didn’t know that it existed back then. I was very happy to have vanilla sex whenever, and wherever, possible. To us, experimenting meant that we did it cowgirl or reverse cowgirl instead of missionary position. Doggy style, or back door lying down, was an even more exciting change of pace. We even tried anal once, but she hated it so it was never tried again. Yes, I did ‘Dine at the Y’ occasionally, and also occasionally she provided me with an oral preliminary. But, most of our sexual activities were what I would now consider BORING! BORING, with capital letters. And, my last true blowjob was when we were still dating. Of course, swallowing was out of the question. And, even that did not occur very frequently. (I once heard a hooker on a TV documentary claim that she could always tell the married johns, for only the married johns asked for blowjobs. She claimed that most women stopped giving blowjobs after they got married. Based on my experiences, I would have to agree).
This pattern continued throughout most of our younger to early middle aged years. First, the big M beset my lovely lady. Hot flashes and mood swings. Real romantic mood busters. Then, eventually, as her sexual desires and bodily fluids began to dry up, so did my ability to get it up. The dreaded ED. Probably the two most dreaded letters for any middle-aged man to say. But, yes, I must admit. I am one of the many middle-aged men whose sexual skills exist only through testosterone injections and the little blue pill (or tan, in my case, because I use the 36 hour version).
As our bodies were changing sexually, so were our sexual drives. Mine was getting higher. Hers was disappearing. Out of frustration, I soon discovered the internet. Yes, the internet, and all’s it sexual possibilities. What a cornucopia of sexual delights. Something for everyone. No matter what your desires, you can find someone willing to share or display those desires somewhere on the internet. The kinkier the better. Everything and anything. Especially when the subjects included big tits and asses. My discovery of the kinkier side of the internet occurred about the time that my lovely lady began to lose her sexual drive. Once every three months was becoming her norm.
And, I was getting frustrated. Not only were the occasions dwindling, but by spending time on the internet my deeper desires were surfacing. No longer was I satisfied with one-on-one, missionary-style, male-female scenarios. . I not only wanted to fuck more frequently, but I also was having fantasies of doing it in handcuffs, blindfolded, and after a good ass whipping. Sometimes I would be the whipee, and sometimes the whipper. Sometimes alone with just a willing lady, other times in groups of people. With multiple subjects on the receiving end. Rosy Palm was working overtime thanks to the internet.
Eventually, I discovered the bondage related dating sites. There were actually women my age who desired the same things as me. They weren’t all models – some were downright ugly and others were huge. But, they all had the same desire as me – to walk on the wild side for a while. Some wanted me to make them my slaves, while others wanted me to be theirs. Some wanted me to whip their butts, while others wanted to whip mine. Some wanted me to eat their pussies, while others wanted to give me a BJ. Some wanted me to fuck their asses, while others wanted to fuck mine. But, they all had the same things in common: They all, like me, wanted something other than ‘vanilla’. You name the kink or fetish, and you could find someone – female or male – who was willing to share those desires and experiences.
Then, it happened. I got into an electronic running dialog with a lady who lived about 30 miles from me. One who also desired to use bondage as foreplay. She wanted to be tied spread-eagled to her bed and then made to do all kinds of kinky things. Nothing too nasty, just made to do things against her will that she could not allow when in control. Things like having her tits and pussy whipped, forced to suck a cock and swallow its cum, and occasionally forced to tongue-fuck a guys asshole before he fucked hers with his big cock. She even talked about wearing nipple clamps around the house all day just to get used to having her tits abused during a session. And, sometimes she would wear the clamps on her pussy lips to make things even more exciting.
We began to trade emails, and eventually IMs. Our conversations were getting hotter and hotter every day. Our sessions usually ended with my favorite friend, Rosy Palm, working overtime. We even talked about getting together for lunch some day. So far she was a stranger in the night who likes to tease me to no end. What would I do if we actually met? Then, one fateful day I printed out her profile from the bondage dating site, or so I thought. This was right before I had to leave for work, and the profile was transmitted to the printer. I thought the puter was acting up, for it never printed out a hardcopy of her profile. That is, it never printed out a hard copy for me. But, it was still there. Ready, and waiting. And, when my lady came home and tried to print out a recipe….
That night I walked into the house after work, only to be greeted by a maniac shouting very four letter word that you can imagine (and probably some that you cannot). I think that some were even in a language that I have never heard before. One thing was for sure: She was pissed. It was one long, and very uncomfortable, night. There was no dinner that night. No sex either. I was lucky to be alive. But, sometimes problems are only problems if they are ignored. Sometimes problems can become opportunities. And, eventually that was the case here.
During her evening of ranting and raving, and calling me every name in the book, she actually became aware that our sex life was in the shitter. We had stopped communicating a long time ago. She had no idea that I needed more. But, before the night was over we began talking. Probably for the first time in quite a while. And, for the first time, she learned of my desire for something more ‘adventurous’ (i.e., kinky). Before the night was over, we agreed to give it a try.
The next day, we drove into town and visited the largest sex shop in LA. And, to my surprise, we bought all kinds of new toys, including a small paddle, a flogger, nipple clamps, wrist and ankle restraints, gels, lotions, and two different types of vibrators (one for the bedroom and a waterproof one for our spa). She even went to the lingerie area and bought some sexy outfits that put all her charms on display. I even bought a cock ring, hoping to prolong my erections (early ED was beginning to cause problems).
Our sex lives were great for about the next three months. We took turns being the domme or dom, spankee and spanker, slave and master: If you imagine it, and we probably did it with our limited library of toys and games. I found several sites on the internet that were incorporated into our playtimes. One allowed me to send her a ‘Spanking Card’ (similar to an electronic birthday card, only redeemable for a spanking). I even found one that described Domestic Discipline, where one gets a good spanking or whipping ever time a household rule is violated. We even drafted up our own set of rules, and I spent many an evening over her lap ‘paying for my sins’.
Then, it happened again.
Yes, I did the unspeakable again. While our sex lives had gotten better, my burning desire for more was still eclipsing hers. I continued to get my jollies via the internet. I continued to chat with that same lady located about 30 miles away. Only, now we were usually not chatting about us getting together some day. Now we were comparing notes, and she was giving me advice about how to steer the play in a more ‘creative’ (kinky) direction without pushing my lovely lady too far. Another woman was giving me advice about how to manage the situation from a woman’s point of view. (We men usually push too hard and ruin it for everyone.) Her advice was priceless.
Everything was working great. Our sex lives were the best that they had ever been. I did not know that she had a kinky side, too. We were in seventh heaven together. Occasionally my internet friend would ask if I thought about her joining us for an evening of kinky fun. But, I knew that would never work. She accepted that fact, and continued to give me advice. Things were moving slower that I wanted, but we were still having the times of our lives. Two perverted, middle-aged, kinky people fucking like they’ve never fucked before.
Or, were we? One day I came home and found that she had been digging in my briefcase and found a phone number. A phone number that was hidden away. Or, so I thought. I had never called my internet friend, but I did write down her phone number just in case for future reference. (Actually, I was hoping that someday the three of us might get together for some bondage fun). But, still I had not called my internet friend. Or had lunch, or anything else, with her. Of course, that explanation, to this day, is not believed. Not only was I having an affair (remember, perception is reality), but I was forcing her to do things that she did not want to do in the first place.
That’s right. She did not want to play our silly bondage games after all. She only participated because she was afraid of losing me to another, kinkier lady. She had been living a sexual lie for nearly three months. She was making me think that she was enjoying it, when in reality she was just doing it to keep me from leaving. When the shit hit the fan that night, everything came to a complete stop. No more sex. No more bondage games. No more mutual spankings. No more nothing.
We were on the verge of divorce. I think the only thing that stopped the divorce was she was afraid to go it alone. She knew her life style would change (and so would mine) drastically if she left. Together our incomes were allowing us to be an average, middle classed couple. We owned our home, two cars, and traveled from time to time. But, separately, our lifestyle would be reduced drastically. And, we both knew it.
I moved into the spare bedroom, where I lived for about two months. We were now roommates. Our life as lovers was over. We split all the household chores, but there was very little to talk about. We acted like lovers whenever we were around friends and family, but when we were alone we were living like financial partners, not friends or lovers. Eventually, our little war thawed, and we reached a compromise. We returned to our older, more traditional life style. All the kinky toys were delegated to a storage bag somewhere out in the garage. Sex was vanilla again. Boring. Mechanical. No love was involved. Just two animals getting it on to satisfy their respective instincts. Nowhere was love involved in the bedroom. We still loved each other personally, and decided to stay together as a couple and personal friends. But there was no love between the sheets. Pure fucking, no love making.
Of course, even though our situation had deteriorated drastically, I continued my favorite pastime. It’s all I had. Hookers were too expensive. And, I’m too old to begin the dating game again. I was even more sexually frustrated that before. The internet is a great thing for frustrated people. Then, I discovered the bisexual sites. Guys having sex with other guys. Girls having sex with other girls. And, guys and girls having sex with other guys and girls together. Sometimes these bisexual scenes involved my other favorite fetishes: bondage, spanking, etc. God is good. Only a good God would invent such perversions, right? (Eat your heart out, Jerry Fallwell. God made all the gays, tyrannies, and bi's, too).
While investigating these sites, I suddenly noticed that there were couples who liked to play with singles. Some of these couples liked to play with other couples. But, some like to add a second lady to their fun. Others liked to add another man. And, sometimes they wanted to play in a bondage setting. After trading emails with several such couples, I started some serious discussions with one couple who was interested in finding another submissive male.
Yes, I understood that with most of these couples, I was going to have to perform with the man first. The lady would only join in if she were comfortable with the man 2 man stuff. I knew that some of the singles on this site would contact the couples, only hoping to get to fuck the lady. So the experience couples would only talk to the guys who were willing to have sex with the man first. I knew that going into my conversations.
The couple that I liked was a Femdom couple – the wife was the top and the hubby was the bottom. She wanted to see her man having sex with another man. She especially wanted to see him give or get a BJ from another man. If the scene was good, then she might participate. But, there were no promises that she would open her pussy to anyone. During our IM conversations, we realized that although her hubby was a sub to her, he would never sub to another man. I, on the other hand, was willing to be his submissive, too. I knew that if I wanted to play, I would have to give him a BJ first, then take what cums up later. So, we devised the scene I described in the beginning of this story.
Here I was: On my knees, hands bound behind my back, ring-gag holding my mouth open, a giant cock pounding away inside my mouth, and a blonde Amazon pounding away at my ass with a strap-like paddle. She was timing her blows to coincide with his cock’s arrival at the back of my mouth. My reaction to the strap hitting my ass helped me propel his cock out of my mouth. This helped alleviate the gag reflex. He would shove his man meat into my mouth, and she would smack my ass. Over and over. And, my cock was loving it. My cock was rock hard – something that had not happed for a while without some help from my friend, Rosy Palm. Of course, I was too busy to hear the door open quietly. In and out, crack, crack, and crack. My mouth was becoming sore, and my ass sorer. I was way too busy to hear that a fourth person had just entered our motel room. After all, I had a mouth full of cock and an ass that was on fire.
Suddenly, the owner of the big cock reached forward and grabbed the back of my head. “Swallow it all, you dirty bastard!” he yelled. “Swallow all of my cum, you cocksucking whore!” Suddenly his big cock swelled, completely filling my mouth. His cock was now pushing against the back of my throat. I wanted to gag. But, he would not let up the pressure. Then it happened. A sudden blast of sweet substance filled the back of my throat. I had no choice but to swallow or choke. He was holding the back of my head, so I could not pull it away from the inrush. There was no air gap between his cock and my lips. It was either swallow or die. And, I was having too much fun to die. So, I quickly began to drink his man juice. And, it tasted surprisingly good. I had never tasted cum before. Not even my own. It tasted better than I had thought it would. I was beginning to enjoy becoming a cocksucker.
Just as suddenly, the paddling stopped. Nobody was spanking my ass now. In fact, I now felt a pair of lips kissing my red hot ass. Someone was massaging it, too. First the left cheek, then the right. With my breathing slowly becoming normal again, I was able to hear some movement behind me. Was I imagining things? Were there two sets of lips on my ass. I still had a giant cock filling my mouth, so I knew it was not my male counterpart that was kissing and caressing. But, were there two sets of lips kissing my cheeks? Was there more than one body behind my ass? I thought I could hear two distinctive sets of heels in the background. How could this be? There were only three of us in the room – and only one set of heels, right? But, I was sure that there were two people kissing my freshly paddled ass.
Suddenly, I could feel someone prying my ass cheeks apart. And, a hot tongue was licking my anal crack. I could feel a tongue along the rim of my rosebud. At the same time, I felt another set of lips circle around my cock. How could this be? One set of lips was licking my anal opening, and another was sucking my cock. Who owns the other set of lips? Suddenly, a cold substance was applied to my rosebud. Then, someone stuck a finger into my opening. Now two. Next, I could feel a hard object prodding at its opening. Slowly, it began to enter. It hurt at first. But then my sphincter opened and the object was pushed further into my rectum. I was getting a real ass fucking. And then I could feel someone leaning forward, bending over to whisper into my ear.
“Suffer, you son of a bitch, suffer!”
‘It can’t be! I know that voice! How can she be here, too?’ I thought to myself. But, I knew that voice. How did she know about my activities? How did she learn about my meeting tonight? But, there was no doubt, that voice, and the strap-on dildo plunging into my ass, belonged to none other than my life-long partner! And, she was about to give me the ass fucking of my life!
“Suffer, you son of a bitch, suffer!”
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