My legs felt as if they were being torn from my body, but I didn't care right then. A massive orgasm was about to go ripping through me and I WANTED it! I pumped my hips up at my lover's and he pounded me right back down. His thick cock burying itself again and again in my abraded flesh.

There! It was on me now and I rode it like a roller coaster. At the top, anticipating, all my muscles tensed and released, tensed and released, over and over. I faintly heard an unintelligible voice but didn't realize it was my own, keening out my deep pleasure. Then I felt him begin to come along with me. His cock swelled and began to squirt its fluid inside me. It was hotter than the vessel into which it was pouring. God, I love the feeling of him coming inside me!!

After what seemed like an age I started to come down. I felt the warm hairy weight of my lover's chest and hips on top of me. His breath was ragged next to my head. I stroked him from his nape down the strong smooth back to the tight ass between my thighs. I played there in the thick hair that covers his mounds. He was by no means the first lover I'd had, but he was easily head and shoulders above any of the rest in terms of skill. I had never come so hard or so many times with anyone else. His thick cock was still hard and still buried balls-deep inside me. Its heat radiated into my groin.

Josef was from Brazil. He had asked a mutual friend to introduce us while we were all attending a gallery opening. He was in the 'States for business between his father's company and its American counterpart in the same industry. That was as much as I learned about his business life -- and more than I really cared about. As I gazed into those dark brown eyes and watch his sensuous Latin lips curl into a smile a shiver went down my back. I could only imagine those lips caressing my nipples or between my thighs, driving me to ecstasy. I only was interested in getting his dick between my lips and legs.

My orgasm had puddled on my belly and in my navel. My own cock still trembled and tingled. Josef reached between us and squeezed the last drops from it. My anus constricted with the pleasure it gave me, squeezing him in return. I could feel his seed squishing and sliding in my ass when he moved.

I raised his face to mine and kissed him, our tongues sliding around like eels in the kiss. He tasted of whiskey and cigarettes. I was surprised I could taste it, since we'd been drinking and smoking together all evening.

"Do you want to go again, my friend?" he asked.

"Maybe in a while. Right now I need to recover," I replied. He raised up and slowly slipped his big cock from my stretched asshole. A strand of come and lubricant hung between us for a moment before dropping away. His come trickled from me before my anus began to contract again. I put my hand down and cupped my hole and felt it close. He rolled to the side and I flexed my muscles. I worked my legs up and down, back and forth. There is no feeling in the world like being freshly fucked.

I first learned I was bisexual after divorcing my second wife. Before that I was as homophobic as most men I knew. The sight or thought of some swishy gay guy sent chills down my spine. I'd had friends who were gay in my 34 years, but they weren't too queenie. At worst they were effeminate, but still seemed mostly male. I just never could understand being attracted to another man. I'd always loved -- and still love -- women. I earned a reputation as a good lover by being attentive to my partners' needs, not just 'getting off' and then, getting off. I always tried to give as well as I got. It was rare that a woman left my bed unsatisfied.

After Cherie and I split, I hit a dry period. I got as horny as I ever did whenever I was without sex, but I opted not to take advantage of several opportunities to get laid. I realized that I wanted more. It wasn't so much that I wanted to fall in love so much as that I'd had enough of the 'same old, same old'. I didn't want to remarry. But -- this was the early '90's -- I also didn't want to risk unsafe sex and death from AIDS. So I contented myself with masturbation. About that time, I began to have some strange fantasies. There had always been the one of myself with two women. I'd never experienced it because I'd never found a woman who wanted to experience it.

In thinking through that particular fantasy, I always imagined the two of them interacting. My "sexual fairness doctrine" that made me seek satisfaction for my partners in bed began to alter the fantasy. If I wanted a woman to share me with another woman, maybe I'd have to consider sharing a woman with another man. At first I couldn't imagine that. Even more unimaginable was the idea of my interacting with the other man, in the same way I imagined the two women behaving in the original scenario. I wouldn't let my mind go there.

One night I was home alone -- again -- and had a few beers more than usual. Normally, on a day off at that time, I was so horny that almost all I thought about was sex. As a result, I spent a lot of my time at home naked and normally jerked off at least five or six times during the course of the day. With that kind of frequency, it is understandable that I needed a pretty broad repertoire of fantasy scenes to play through. I reasonably began to be able to imagine myself with another couple. Reasonably, because, after all, logistically that makes more sense that the M/F/F scenario. A woman can more easily deal with two cocks than one man can deal with two cunts. So I got used to the idea of sharing a woman, watching her get fucked while I was being sucked, and vice versa.

That night I was busily pulling myself off when an image flashed into my mind's theater. The woman was sitting on my face, my tongue deep inside her cunt. She lifted up slightly and the other guy slipped his cock into her from behind. I pictured that action just inches from my face, her scent filling my nostrils. As he pumped into her I resumed my licking and sucking at her clit. I knew it would be impossible to do that without accidentally also licking his dick as it slid in and out. But, after all, it would only be coated with her juices, the ones I was already greedily sucking up. That soon became my favorite fantasy. Maybe because it sounded a bell somewhere in my libido, or because it was more forbidden. I don't know. But it made me come hard that time and for weeks after, whenever I'd use that picture.

I began to feel very wicked and debauched because of that fantasy. It led to more. I imagined her on top of him, facing his feet. I'd be between his legs and licking her. Then, she would slowly raise up enough for him to slip out of her. I would engulf his cock -- still tasting only of her, mind you, which I'd decided would be 'okay'. Then he'd slide back into her and the action would continue.

I moved on. Soon I was finding myself fucking her and the other guy cleaning us both up after we came. I've long been used to the taste of my own come after sex, when I go down on my partner. So it was but a short step from there to picturing myself cleaning off his cock, all slimy with the come cocktail made of their combined juices. Still, I couldn't feel anything when I tried to imagine myself with a man. I'd be out in public -- at a mall, or some such -- and try to look at men as potential sexual objects. It didn't work. There was nothing attractive to me about men.

About two years after I was divorced, I met Shayla. We hit it off immediately and my dry spell was over. She was very open and verbal sexually. She talked to me during sex, telling me what she was feeling, what she liked, etc. One morning we were fucking and I leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Just imagine if you had another cock to suck while I fucked you. All hot and hard between your lips while I'm filling your juicy cunt!" She came on the spot. A heavy, screaming orgasm. While we recovered we talked about it.

"Would you really do that?" she asked. "I've thought about it," I admitted. "But there would have to be some strict conditions if I was to share you with another man. I'd jump at the chance to share another man's wife or girlfriend with me." She poked me hard in the ribs. "OUCH! What's wrong? You get excited at the idea of having me and another guy, but can't turn it around?" "It's just that... well," she couldn't seem to express the exact feeling. "I mean, I guess I could see bringing another woman into our bed, but I'd feel left out if you went out and did it without me."

We began to discuss it seriously -- having threesomes. We settled on the basic conditions that would have to be met absolutely by any prospective third for us. Then, incredibly to me, she began to run down the list of our acquaintances that might fit the role. We finally determined one man and one woman who were acceptable to us both. I still thought we were 'blue-skying', or imagining for fantasy's sake. It worked that way, since we went for round two that morning and talked through what would happen if we had Laura (her friend from work) there with us. Even though Shayla had previously denied any interest in other women, she reacted positively when I mentioned how Laura would go down on her to suck my come from her cunt.