"We have reason to believe that man first walked upright to free his hands for masturbation."

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Bisexual Fiction: Bones

By: Haywood Jablomi

 
It all started with a simple game of dominoes. It was a typical August day in Utah. It had started out hot, and it was only getting hotter. We were down in the basement, the only place where the AC seemed to work. I was sucking down Budweisers; she was knee deep in the Patron. It was a Saturday afternoon, and all those things that we had put off all week still weren’t getting done. The car was still dirty, the grass was still long, and the dog was still smelly. As the mercury edged toward 104 it was apparent that unless a freak snowstorm hit, all those chores would be waiting for us on Sunday.
We were sitting at the old wooden table that still had the felt on it from Tuesday’s poker game. I was in a pair of Levis shorts and some flip-flops. Although it was almost 4:30, she still had on her Jimmie Johnson pajama bottoms, as well as a wife beater. While 78 degrees was considerably cooler than it was outside, it had nothing to do with her nipples practically bursting through her shirt. She had naturally pointy tits, not too big, not too small, and while I worshipped them, she felt it necessary to keep them confined inside a bra nearly twenty four hours a day. The heat had never deterred her before, and neither had sheer laziness. But whatever the reason was that she had the girls out of their cages today, I didn’t care. I was enjoying the sight of her high beams shining directly on me.
To be fair, it wasn’t just her God-given symmetry that had her nips straining against the thin cotton shirt more than usual. It was the conversation. Some girls got flush, some got wet, but whenever my wife got even the tiniest bit turned on her nipples immediately snapped to attention, often defying the thick padded bras she wore to hide them. And over the past ten minutes they had gone from erotically hypnotizing to dangerously close to putting an eye out.
We had been playing dominoes for the better part of a twelve-pack, and as is our custom, we had been wagering on each game. The bets were always simple, loser had to do some menial task, i.e. empty the dishwasher, weed the garden, balance the checkbook, etc. But last week, for some unknown reason, we had upped the ante. It started out innocent enough. She had had a hard day at work and so she suggested that the loser give the winner a back rub. I agreed, and three games later I was on the bed enjoying my massage. From there the wagers steadily grew more risqué. On Monday it was a full body massage, then a hand job. On Wednesday it was oral sex, and the next game I proposed anal sex. I only mentioned it because I was riding a wave of victories, confident that I would get to drive up that back road for the first time since her sister’s wedding almost two years ago, when my little Maid of Honor got so shitfaced on Long Island Iced Teas that she was doing some dirty dancing that would have made Patrick Swayze blush. After getting caught with our pants down in the women’s bathroom, we left for home, but only got as far as the Denny’s parking lot two blocks away. And it was there in the back seat of our Nissan Altima that I took her anal virginity, at her insistence nonetheless.
I don’t know if it was my irritating overconfidence or her own self-assurance, but she didn’t bat an eye. “Ok,” she said. “But you better be awake when I get home from the sex shop with a strap-on to fuck you back there.”
That caught me by surprise, as I hadn’t even considered what she would get if she happened to win this one. “Hmm, let’s think this over,” I backpedaled. “What would you like the wager to be?” I asked her as sweetly as I could.

“That’s fine with me,” she replied just as sweetly, and it sent a shiver down my spine.
That game started with her gaining a sizeable lead, and I literally began to get a little sick to my stomach. Fortunately, I caught a good hand, stole the rock, and ended up winning by twenty points. Thank the good Lord!
Today the wagering was no different. We picked up where we left off, and after the first game I was treated to her doing a strip-tease for me right there in the family room. The next game had her pleasuring herself with a banana squash that I personally hand-picked from our garden. It was kind of strange, but when we played just for fun, or when the wager was something that I planned on doing anyway, she usually won. But when it was a “real” bet I won almost every time. It wasn’t as if I was great at dominoes and she wasn’t. Every game was close, but I just seemed to finish slightly ahead in the ones that counted. And while she cursed and bitched with each and every defeat, she was always the good sport. Never had she reneged on a bet, and while she was a little hesitant with the whole squash thing, ultimately she attacked it with the same enthusiasm that she attacked life with, one of the traits that had caused me to fall in love with her in the first place.
I overtly stared at her excited nipples as she “washed” or mixed up the dominoes. The wager for the last game was a two-page “story”, a handwritten erotic fictional tale, similar to the letters in Penthouse. Both of us possessed above-average literary skills, as well as overactive imaginations, ensuring that the winner would get a backstage pass into the perverted mind of the loser. Well somehow she managed to win a game, so I whipped out a raunchy tale of debauchery that could have been plagiarized from any hardcore smut magazine. She didn’t mind though. She had to pee and she took it with her - and when she came out twenty minutes later she had a wild grin on her face, and the twins were equally energized.
Her nipples were as hard as they get, and it dawned on me that she was in the bathroom for twenty minutes! Could my story have turned her on that much? While I was sitting there patiently waiting for her to return, was she in there diddling herself to my erotica? I suppose the combination of her stripper routine, her blind date with the banana squash, and now this trashy story, would have gotten her pretty worked up. But hey! What about me? I was there for all those things, and when my cock stiffened watching her “go vegetarian” I didn’t race to the bathroom to make a batch.
“You ok?” I asked.
The silly grin never left her face. As if she didn’t hear me she asked, “What are we playing for this time?”
I guess she was just in the habit of asking. “You won,” I reminded her.
“That’s right. I did win,” she said. She pushed the pile of bones toward me. “Let’s play for the story,” she said.
I picked my seven tiles and looked at her… well, at her nipples. “You want to play for another two page story?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. I want to play for what you wrote.”
I was confused. “What I wrote? What did I write? And how can we play for it?” Technically, I knew what I had written but I didn’t know how we could play for it.
She pulled the binder paper on which I had penned my masterpiece out from the waistband of her pajamas and tossed it on the table in front of me. “If I win, I want this,” she said, tapping a long blue fingernail on the paper. She pulled seven dominoes from the pile. “If you win, what do you want?”
I didn’t need to think long. “When I win, I want a replay of Wednesday night,” referring to that trip I took up the back highway.
“Deal,” she replied. “Big Six to the board.”
Fast forward twenty four hours.
It was now Sunday, and I was wondering how I’d gotten in the position that I was now in. Not the literal position of me on my hands and knees, my wife behind me preparing to push the six-inch strap-on dildo she wore into my ass, and a muscled young guy in front of me waving his seven-inch REAL cock in my face. (One of her co-workers, I’d later find out).
Ok, so you figured out that I lost that game. Well, lost is an understatement. I got creamed, 150 – 35, my worst defeat ever! Expecting to have to pay up immediately, as is customary in our league, I said, “Ok, what exactly do you want me to do?”
She smiled. “You don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything and I’ll let you know.” And she did.
And now here I was, naked on a bed at the Best Western downtown. My wife was also naked, except for the faux cock dangling between her legs. Another man was also naked, his cock dangling dangerously close to my face. I only wrote that crazy story because I knew it would appeal to my wife’s kinky side. She knew I didn’t have any bisexual desires. It was fictional, remember?
It was all too apparent that fiction was rapidly becoming reality. As if a silent “ACTION” cue was announced, my wife pushed her tool against my virgin hole. At the same time the guy pushed his cock into my face. I turned my head, but he grabbed my head with one hand and plugged my nose with the other. When my mouth opened to breathe he pushed his cock in. I wanted to bite it off, but I knew better. Besides, compared to the searing pain I was receiving from the other end, a dick in my mouth wasn’t all that bad.
My ass was in agony as my wife pushed her vibrating tool inside me. It felt like it was at least twenty feet long as she slowly fed it deeper and deeper into my asshole. I expected it to bump into the cock in my mouth and push it right on out. After what seemed like an hour, I finally felt my wife’s hips against my ass. Slowly she pulled her faux prick out and pushed it back in again, and the pain started all over again. I wasn’t even thinking about the cock in my mouth, but the owner sure was. He was thrusting his hips back and forth, and I realized that his limp rod was now hard as a rock. I did my best to keep him happy as I concentrated on the tree stump that my wife was passing off as a sex toy. Weren’t toys supposed to be fun?
In and out. In and out. Two cocks sliding in and out of two places they were never intended to be. Yet here they were, and not a goddamn thing I could do but take them. I felt my wife’s faux cock start to piston faster and faster. A hand slapped my ass. The cock in my mouth also began to move with more urgency, and then, without warning, I felt a blast of hot, sticky saltiness in my mouth. The guy was pinching his nipples with one hand, the other firmly holding my head on his spasming shaft. My mouth was full of his thick semen, and I concentrated on keeping it away from my throat. My wife moaned and began to shake, her buzzing tool still in my ass as she succumbed to her own orgasm. I knew that between her legs was a sea of wetness, and I longed to trade the sea of sperm in my mouth for just a taste of her delicious snatch.
As if she read my mind, she pulled her faux rod out of my trampled ass and moved next to the guy. “As soon as you swallow that you can have some of this,” she said, flashing her sopping box at me.
I couldn’t resist. With one gulp I swallowed another man’s seed and immediately buried my head in my wife’s snatch. When I finally came up for air the guy was gone, and my wife and I fucked like we never had before.
I couldn’t even begin to imagine what the next bet might be!


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now that you've read this story, why not post a comment, give it a star rating and/or share it with others.
 


Share


Vote
vote for gay blogs at Best Male Blogs!

Follow

No comments:

Post a Comment