I Bisexual

"Hello," the soft, thick, yet very sexy male European voice said on the telephone.

"Oh, hi there," I replied. My horniness deepening at the mere sound of his voice.

"So you'll come on over here tonight? "

"You bet," I whispered.

"Okay, good... See you about eight o'clock."

With that, I heard him kiss the receiver just before hanging up the phone.

"Right on," I said to myself.

I was now getting hot, and I quickly stripped off my clothes, entered the bathroom and took a shower. It was always good news when Sylvian called. I scrubbed every part of my body while thinking about him. My uncut cock hard and my balls throbbing, I got out of the shower and quickly dried myself off.

"Ah... There!" I gushed, as I pulled out a large cardboard box from underneath some hanging shirts. This box contained all women's attire. Mostly clothes that some of my female friends had left over at my place. Many belonged to Debby.

Debby was a longtime "on-again, off-again" thing. A very sexy, long-legged, auburn-haired beauty. There had been a lot of fun times. Fun times partying. Fun times in bed.

I loved her and she knew it. She had decided to clean up her act, though, and go back to school and stop hanging out with types like me. So easily writing me off when talking to other people. Saying I had turned into a "fag," which was certainly saying a lot coming from a closet dyke who wasn't going to hang out in the rock clubs anymore.

I began getting more excited as I put on her black stockings and garter. I put on one of her baggy purple wide-necked frilly blouses and tied it up at the front, showing my bare midriff above the ultraskintight low rise jeans I'd pulled on. David Bowie's 'Jean, Jeanie' was playing in the background.

Fuck, was I getting hot and horny.

I put on some sandals; threw a funky hat over my punky hair; picked up my shoulder bag, and high on the day's first joint, walked out the door to get a taxi. Sylvian always insisted I do that. I was his English whore after all.

I'd known Sylvian for several months and saw him often. Things had moved along pretty quickly since I'd met my first gay lover, Jeffrey , in a dark dance club the previous summer.

Like me, trendy Jeffrey was new to gay sex, and we were a couple of whores together. Alternating top and bottom. Sucking and fucking and taking in the new possibilities with relish.

When Jeffrey and I broke up, I started seeing guys as much as possible, giving blow jobs and getting my ass fucked. I called ads in newspapers. I was getting everywhere. I was getting wilder. A guy had introduced me to xtc, and dancing on it felt as good as the best sex. Only better.

I rang Sylvian's buzzer and he let me in. He stood at the top of the stairs with the door open, his hot dancer's body wearing only a thong and a see-through flowery nylon halter top. The nails on his fingers and bare feet were painted red. His grayish-blond hair was tied back in a ponytail.

"Good to see you," he said. He placed one caressing palm on my ass cheek, the other settling on my breast. His thick lips met mine. My cock got rock hard, my heart beating faster, as we exchanged this long, wet, evocative kiss.

I kicked off my sandals and sat down on the sofa next to him, folding one leg over the other. He liked me to sit that way. The garter straps showing through where my jeans didn't cover my bare ass. I liked it too.

After taking a sip of wine, I pulled out my cigarettes and saw the wicked sexual gleam in his eye.

"So? You've started buying them now. You're getting hooked," he uttered, groping my throbbing cock.

I'd just started smoking when I met Sylvain, and he encouraged me. I felt a sexual charge every time I lit up a long white menthol. All the better for smoky, sexy blow jobs too.

"Next time will be a threesome," he said laughingly. I just grinned and exhaled a fresh plume of smoke in the air. Something that turned him on very much.

After more wine and marijuana, Sylvian jumped up, undid his thong, and let it fall to the floor. I slipped out of my jeans and nestled next to him, and we fell back on the bed.

Legs intertwined, my cock slapping into his cock, we embraced and necked with each other. Vicious, hot, slutty tongue action, as he pinched my nipples and felt up my sex. I was doing the same and going out of my mind with sexual fever.

He quickly swung around on top of me into the 69 position. When I felt my hard throbbing cock in his mouth, I was going wild. The only thing I could do to satiate my lust was to wantonly, and rapidly lick his anus. Trying to get my tongue in deeper and deeper. My fingers feeling up his thick, swollen balls and active, potent circumcised prick.

After plenty of sweat and pre-cum, Sylvian switched around again, and I got prepared for the fuck position. But no. He lay to the side of me, then on top and grabbed both our cocks with one hand and squeezed.

This was unbelievably hot! He knew he had me as he then slid off me and flat-palmed the head of my cock, rotating over and over again.

"Oh fuck!" I cried.

The cum squirted out, bursting hot and volcanic into Sylvian's palm. It shot out, reaching and staining the slutty stockings I was wearing. Staining the bed sheets.

Somehow, in my ecstasy I thought of Debbie. As I always did. Somehow, I laughed. I fell off the bed and onto my knees as sylvian stood up. I shoved my mouth onto Sylvian's very red, very wet, upright cock. Sylvian put both his hands on the back of my head and hard-fucked my mouth. Rocking back and forth, pumping hard and passionately.

I almost choked, causing my mouth to fall off his cock, but it was too late. He grunted as the semen fired into my face, stinging my eyes. I desperately got my mouth back on his cock, taking the cum in my mouth, savoring it and swallowing it.

I fell back with the cum running down my chin, staining my loose-fitting blouse. I grabbed my cock and balls, shaking them to get the last of this great orgasmic experience out of me.

"Wow ... that was awesome," I said, as I slowly pulled on my jeans again, grabbed one of Sylvians gold lighters, and lit up a cigarette.

We smoked some more pot and had some more wine. We listened to his classical music and my "Slut music," as he called it. He then handed me twenty dollars to go to the store.

What did he want this time? Perfume? Lipstick? No. Just a bag of ice. I felt hot and horny as I descended the stairs.

"Oh, that feels so good," I thought as my barefeet touched the sidewalk.

It did feel good, very sensual as I crossed at the stoplight. I was high and sexually charged, my mouth full of the taste of cum, and my body sweaty and cum stained.

To any gay men who inevitably looked at my impossibly sexy ass, I'd say hello. Why not? I always did, but I had to get back to see Sylvian.