* * * * * * * * * *
Note: This is a BISEXUAL story. It has male-female sex, as well as male-male sex.
* * * * * * * * * *
Peter had only played spin the bottle a few times. The last time had been while he was still in high school.
He was sitting cross-legged on the living room carpet, opposite Mark. Peter's wife Kyra was sitting beside Peter, facing Mark's girlfriend Elana.
Last night, Kyra and Elana had pulled him into a steamy three-way. Tonight, Elana and Mark had come over for dinner. They were both good company-charming and entertaining, as well as being sexy as hell. The dinner was great. So were the two bottles of wine.
Peter had been fantasizing about sex with another man since Kyra took his butt-cherry with a strap-on. Now that the time had come, he suddenly felt shy and awkward.
Kyra set an empty wine bottle on its side in the center of their little circle. "Standard rules," she said. "Except, whoever spins the bottle kisses the person it stops on . . . boy or girl." She looked around the group. "Okay?"
They all nodded. Mark was a big black bodybuilder, four inches taller than Peter and 30 pounds heavier-all muscle. He smiled at the growing bulge in Peter's blue jeans.
"I'll start." Kyra spun the bottle. When it stopped, it was pointing at Peter. She laughed and kissed him playfully, using just a little tongue. "Okay, Peter. Your turn."
Peter spun and the bottle stopped on Elana. She leaned over, put a hand on his thigh, and kissed him hard, flicking her tongue against his. She sat back down, leaving him with a MUCH bigger bulge in his crotch.
Elana picked the bottle up and slowly stroked it-running her fingers up and down its body and neck-while looking at the others with a lewd smile. Then, she winked at Kyra, put the bottle down, and set it spinning.
It stopped on Kyra. She laughed and rose to her knees. Elana moved into her arms and kissed her passionately.
It felt like Peter's boner was going to tear a hole in his jeans as he watched Kyra and Elana dirty kissing while rubbing tits and fondling each other's asses. He looked over at Mark. The bulge in the big bodybuilder's shorts was just as big as Peter's.
Mark swatted Elana's butt. "Get a room, you two."
The girls laughed and sat. Kyra spun the bottle. It settled on Mark. She pressed her body against his and tongue-kissed him while grinding her crotch into his and kneading his muscular butt cheeks.
Despite what he'd told Elana yesterday, Peter had been afraid watching Kyra with another man would make him jealous. Instead, he wanted to be in Kyra's place, dirty kissing and rubbing bodies with the big black stud.
"Man!" Kyra pulled away from Mark.
Mark smiled and touched his index finger to Kyra's lips. "Woman." He ran his finger over her chin, down her throat, and between her breasts. They both smiled and then sat down. Mark spun the bottle. It settled on Peter.
Peter stared at the thick green bottle. Its long slim neck was pointing at his bulging crotch. The room had grown hot, his heart was pounding, and it was hard to breathe, like the first time he'd worked up the nerve to kiss a girl.
She'd been waiting for him to make a move and had melted into the kiss. Mark's big strong arms closed around Peter and pulled him into his massive chest. It felt so right. So warm and secure. So fucking sexy . . .
Their kiss was tender-tongues dancing a delicate ballet-and then grew alpha male rough-fiercely thrusting and parrying. Peter growled and ground his bulging crotch against Mark's barely-constrained hard-on. "Fuck!" he gasped.
"You like that," Mark said.
"Oh yeah!"
"WHO needs to get a room?" Elana asked. She and Kyra were side-by-side on their knees with hands between each others' legs, watching the men intently.
"I'm enjoying the show." Kyra kissed Elana. "Aren't you?"
"Sure." Elana rose to her feet and picked the bottle up. "I think the game is over."
"Spin the bottle is over," Kyra said. "But the game is just beginning."
"What game?"
"Hide the sausage."
Kyra and Elana laughed. So did Mark. Peter felt self-conscious for a moment, then joined in.
Mark stood up. "Ready to play?" Peter nodded. Mark unfastened his cargo shorts and let them fall around his ankles.
Peter stared at the giant tent in Mark's thin tight boxers. "Awesome." His fingers traced Mark's cock through the stretched fabric, running up and down its stiff shaft and pinching its head. The cloth near Mark's cock-head was already soaked with his precum.
Mark reached for the waistband of his boxers. Peter said, "Leave them on." He kissed Mark's cock-head through the cloth, running his tongue over the wet spot.
Mark moaned as Peter licked his boxers, soaking the cloth over his cock-head with spit, then moving on down his shaft.
