A Bi-Story

June 10, 1996

Bill and Ben were born almost on the same day in the US bi-centennial year, 1776. That was twenty years ago last Thursday and Saturday. They grew up next door to each other, the best of friends. Their fathers worked together in a bi-nocular shop. The one in the old bi-carbonate of soda factory in Bixby. They progressed from babies to bi-peds together, before delivering a bi-weekly newspaper by bi-cycle.

They were really bright guys. In high school they declined to bi-sect frogs for science class and instead invented a new kind of bi-focal eyeglass lens made with a bi-sulphide bi-polymer. They also co-chaired a bi-annual student council review of bi-partisan bi-nary and non-bi-nary school policies. To their mutual disappointment, they were not popular with high school girls.

But that didn't matter. Bill and Ben discovered their sexuality in their eighteenth summer. Then after stroking themselves, they decided that there was no harm in stroking one another. It wasn't exactly cool in their small town so they pretty much kept it on the down-low until they both went off to college in nearby Cairo, Illinois -- where the Mississippi and Ohio bi-furcate -- initially intending to individually study the use of bi-nomials and bi-metallic controls.

They were best friends through and through, and they didn't really need anyone else. The two studied hard by day. Both had switched their college majors to Special Education. Ben's specialization was studying the bi-cameral mind, while Bill's was in bi-polar disorders. Ben started weight lifting at the Student Health Center -- just for fun -- and Bill loved what it did for his bi-ceps.

Bill took a gourmet cooking class at the Student Union, and Ben joined in helping his buddy with the bi-monthly buffet that the student chefs prepared. Together the two shared learning, laughter, and love late into the night in their dormitory room. Then one day on a bi-state bi-cycle ride they met two young women in a grass field working on an ancient deHavilland bi-plane.

The Fox Moth had an open cockpit for one pilot behind an enclosed cabin for three or four passengers up front. Tired from their ride up a nearby hill, the guys struck up a conversation with the mechanic -- a grease stained beauty with bright white bi-cuspids -- and her former college roommate. They had just graduated the prior year themselves. Both were the bi-lingual, bi-racial children of bi-gamist ex-patriate Zion guys and sweet ochre gals from the Sonoran Desert.

The gals took them for a ride. Laurie flew as Lori rode with Bill and Ben in the cabin. The three chatted as they flew over the "old button works," where a hundred years before, fabric fasteners were cut from the shells of bi-valve, bi-laterally symmetrical freshwater molluscs harvested from the Ohio River. It turned out that the two gals were complete nonconformists, free spirits, friends, business partners, and "best of all lovers."

The four dated while Bill and Ben worked on their degrees. Sometimes Lori flew the bi-plane while Laurie stroked Bill and Ben off together in the tight little cabin. Sometimes Laurie flew as Lori made a daisy chain with the guys or got herself dee-peed -- Lori really liked getting dee-peed. Not that Laurie didn't mind you.

Sometimes they landed the little bi-plane on the sandy riverbank and the four partied together. Naked in the waters before returning home to the old farmhouse the gals shared. The guys moved off campus and in with Laurie and Lori, and night time was never the same. Sure, they missed a few cooking classes, but the three were happy to let Bill prepare meals for their mutual enjoyment. And unlike at the Student Union, fellating the naked chef was a perfectly acceptable activity.

Ben found that he didn't have to drive all the way to the Student Health Center to use the bench press. Bill, Lori, and Laurie were of different weights so it was easy, if a tad distracting to use his naked lovers as exercise equipment. I guess you can still call it bench pressing when you are doing it on the rug in front of the fireplace or on the new King Size mattress they bought and briefly got stuck going up the stairs. Luckily it had two smaller box springs instead of a big one.

In the farmhouse, there was always a hand for a stroke, and always pursed lips to tickle a frenulum or two. Plenty of orifices, and little to no waiting. Just lots of steamy sex and true love. Of course, nature made guys sprinters, and gals distance runners, sexually speaking. So, sometimes the guys just watched as Lori and Laurie did the 'ole soixante-neuf on one another.

And life was good.