Bi-Satisfied

by Nikki-Michelle

  “Ahhh, God! Fuck, yes! Yes, David, yes.”

  “Mine?” he asked.

  It took me too long to answer. He rode me harder, deeper. I couldn’t answer. My eyes had rolled to the back of my head. I was struggling to catch my breath. His tongue traveled down the base of my neck. The love we were making was brutal yet sensual. Animalistic yet beautiful. He had . . . He had me.

  Michael stood, made his way halfway across the room until he was stopped in his tracks.

  “No,” David said with so much venom that it scared me.

  Michael backed away. He wasn’t invited this time around. David was claiming me as his own. Michael had no right to that part of us. The alpha male had showed his dominance, making Michael the beta. If he had come any closer, it was clear he would have become the omega.

  David had claimed me. I was his and his alone.

  “Mine?” he asked me again. His hands were gripping my waist so tight that his nails were breaking my skin. He was deep. Fucking me hard. Loving me long. Passionately having sex with me all at once.

  I shivered. “Yes, David, yes. Yours. Jesus, it’s yours!”

  Hours later, rain was still beating down on the roof and against the windowpanes of my townhome. David lay asleep on his side of my bed. Michael had been on the other side before he got up to take his wife’s phone call. They’d sandwiched me. We’d played another game of oral fixation. I’d given Michael the treatment I gave David in the club. I’d wanted to return the favor for what he had done to me. So I had wrapped my lips around the head of his manhood and had made his ass clench too. I’d placed butterfly kisses against those powerful thighs. Used my nails to rake up and down his inner thighs as I pleased him with my mouth.

  Michael couldn’t handle my mouth the way David could. His come had started to seep out long before I got to the high point of my oral presentation. I’d stroked his shaft with both my hands, then moved one to fondle his scrotum. Lifted that heavy sack and licked his perineum. That was one of the moves that had made David putty in the palms of my hands in the shower. I didn’t give head. I performed the art of fellatio. Giving head took no skill. I took pride in sucking their dicks. It gave me pleasure to see these strong, powerful alpha males become so weak in those moments. His release came shooting out at me like a stream. I didn’t swallow his seed, as I’d done with David. I was trying to save something for his wife.

  I watched David as he slept. He always had on his glasses when he went to sleep. No matter what I said or how I fussed, he still slept in his glasses. I removed them from his face and placed them on the nightstand. The males in my home had eventually gone back downstairs to pick up their clothes from my front-room floor, which meant that I had to do the same, or David would fuss. Michael’s clothes lay across the back of the chair in my bedroom, nice and neat. David’s lay across the sitting stool in the corner, and were also neatly folded. My dress and shoes for the evening were still scattered about downstairs.

  Rather than go downstairs and find my clothes, I continued to watch David as he slept. I was sure that Michael turned him on as much as I did. When he had realized Michael’s hand was touching him with mine when we were in the club, his arousal had shot up another level. As much as I hated to admit it, something about that moment had given me a natural high. I had to be honest. Still, there was jealousy there. My phone beeped just then, informing me of the call I’d missed. I’d check it later.

  I climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom. Released the fluid that had my bladder aching. I washed my hands, my face. Brushed my teeth and wiped Michael’s dried come off my chest with a warm, soapy towel. I walked back out to find David lying on his back, one arm thrown over his head and one hand on his dick. His chocolate body was the epitome of perfection. He lay there like an African god in the afterglow of our act of congress.

  I could hear echoes of Michael’s voice downstairs. Michael hadn’t been back to his hotel room all day. I wondered if his wife had any clue as to what he was up to. Did her womanly intuition have her calling him like she had been? I looked back at David and imagined what it would be like to see him and Michael together. They were both so alpha, I found it hard to imagine either of them bent over, taking dick. David had told me repeatedly that he was always the giver and never the taker. Did that apply to the man downstairs too?

  David had made me say yes. He’d made me say what he’d been trying to have me say for the past eight years. My mind kept flashing back to when he’d made Michael back up off me. Something about that had me wanting to be fucked again. I wanted David to do again what he’d done to me in that moment. He was so licentious that it was mesmerizing. I would give anything to see David’s come face again. Moments before he released, he’d been the one in control. He’d wanted to see my face again. Had flipped me over and had kissed me as he slowed his strokes down. He had kissed me vigorously and then had pulled back. Had tried to hide his face between my neck and shoulder blades. It had felt like he was about to cheat me out of seeing the pleasure I could bring him.

  “Look at me, David. Please, baby, look at me. Let me see,” I coaxed.

  His arms were shaking as I felt his dick swell more. That curve in his dick, that slight curve, was my undoing. He’d used it to his advantage. He’d seen all my love faces. I wanted to see his. He slowly pulled his head up. He was weak. So damn feeble as he tried to hold on for as long as he could. There was something about the way he was looking at me. Something about the way he was pleading with me not to move. His hands held my hips still.

  “Shit, baby.” He held his breath.

  I slowly rocked my hips.

  “Summer!” His body jerked.

  I lifted my hips and moved in sync with him.

  “Ah, fuck, baby.” He shut his eyes tight. His head fell back. Mouth was half open. “Fuck.” He let go. Dropped his forehead against mine and went harder again. Deeper still. Faster and breathlessly, until I felt him paint my walls with his release.

  It had all been so damn intense that he collapsed on top of me. I couldn’t breathe for him, and he couldn’t breathe for me. For a long while the three of us lay there. Michael in the chair. David between my thighs on the couch. My hands played in his locks until I fell asleep. I woke up a few minutes later and found myself being carried up the stairs to my room.

  That was where we all had been until Michael’s phone woke me up.

  I walked downstairs to find him standing in my kitchen, shirtless. His boxer briefs hugged the perfect globes of his tight ass. There was a long diagonal keloid going down his back. Like somebody had tried sliced him open before. The scar didn’t take away from the brute strength that showed when he moved. The sinewy muscles in his back were on display, indicating the time he had spent in the gym. He was still on the phone with his wife as he ate grapes and drank a bottle of my Fiji water. He’d made himself at home in my place. He spilled some water on the counter and started to look around for something to wipe it up with.

  I walked over to the sink, reached under it, and handed him a paper towel. He smiled at me. Eyed me hungrily. I was as naked as the day I was born. He was wearing only his boxer briefs. I wanted to see him naked. Had never seen him completely naked other than when he was touching himself while he watched me and David earlier. Even then most of his body had been covered by the shadows. I was so busy staring at the physical man he was that I barely heard my Bose speakers playing. I blushed at the way he eyed me.

  I tried to walk away, and he stopped me. Grabbed my hand and gently pulled me to him. Jesus, he smelled good. Before, when I first met him, I had sniffed him slyly. This time, I did it shamelessly. Stood on my toes and sniffed his neck as I heard his wife’s voice through the phone. He grunted low and chuckled.

  “Mike, what are you doing?” she asked him.

  He had her on speakerphone. “Nothing,” he answered.

  “Are you touching yourself? I’m sure you are. You’re in love with your own dick,” she said, then giggled.


  He wrapped one arm around me. Grabbed one handful of my ass while popping a grape into his mouth. “Something like that,” he answered.

  Michael lowered his mouth to mine. Offered me a piece of his fruit. I kept my eyes on his as I accepted his offering. It was probably a mistake to do so. I probably shouldn’t have taken a bite of that fruit from his lips. David was in my bed, sleeping. I started to feel like I was cheating on him. I wanted to pull back, but when Michael’s lips touched mine, I started to crave the kiss he’d given me earlier. Wanted to see blinding lights behind my eyelids again as he kissed me.

  “Stop playing with yourself,” his wife said. “When you come home, I’ll do it for you.”

  I slipped my hand into his boxer briefs. He gave something akin to a guttural grumble. “Nah, I’ve started now. Gotta see it to the end.”

  His wife’s voice was silky, almost like she tricked men into paying $5.99 a minute so they could get off on her voice alone. I hadn’t fucked her husband . . . technically. The only thing he had penetrated on me was my mouth. He’d skillfully eaten my pussy. I was almost positive she wouldn’t be happy about that. Still, there was something about the way we were in that moment that made me want to do more than technically have him penetrate me. Michael’s dick didn’t come with that slight curve that I was enamored with, but he was packing enough meat to do more than fill you to the rim. His dick came with a thickness that made it heavy in the palms of your hands.

  Michael licked his lips and laid his phone on the island. He picked me up and sat me next to his phone before standing between my legs.

  “You’re such a fucking perv, Michael. You’ll play with your dick just because you have one,” his wife said. Although she laughed, there was something in her voice that said her husband touching himself annoyed her.

  “It’s mine. I like the way my dick feels in my hand, so I touch it.”

  “Ugh. My God. Do you have to be so freaking filthy all the time?” she asked.

  Michael kissed me. Tongue traced the outside of my lips before he answered his wife. “I’m talking to my wife. Why can’t I be as filthy as I want?”

  “Maybe your wife doesn’t want to be filthy all the time,” his wife said.

  He didn’t respond right away. He sighed and exhaled loudly. Kind of like a teenage boy would if his mother chastised him about going down the wrong path. His wife didn’t like the fact that he was a freak. It sounded as if he had to stifle or hide who he was when he was around her. I wondered if she’d always been that way. Wondered if she had been a prude when she’d fucked David too or if her prudery was reserved for her husband. As stupid as it sounded, I was jealous of her. I was mad that she had fucked the man I wanted . . . the one I was secretly in love with. I was going to fuck her husband like she’d fucked David.

  I slid to the end of the island. Let my tongue trace over each of his nipples as my hand continued to play in his underwear. I let my tongue glide smoothly over his chocolate skin, relishing the taste of him. He was hard. Harder than he had been in the movie theater. He was looking at me like he wanted to show me another side of adultery. Like he wanted to show me what it was like to get him with all his sexual fortitude.

  While I kissed him, one of his hands slipped between my legs. There was no fingering this time. He wanted to see if I was wet. I needed to be well lubricated to handle what he was packing. Like before with David, I had to be relaxed. Relaxed and well lubricated.

  It had been two years. I had been feeling it in every muscle I owned ever since David had released me. My inner thighs, my hip bone, and the like felt as if I’d been doing squats for hours. Two years, no dick. It had been two days now, and I was about to be the recipient of a second satisfying dick. I welcomed it.

  My heart skipped a beat when I heard David moving around upstairs. I didn’t know if he would be okay with what Michael and I were doing without him.

  “I didn’t ask you to be. You asked me what I was doing, and I told you,” Michael said to his wife.

  “Well, play with your dick enough while you’re in Atlanta so I won’t have to walk in on you playing with it here,” she fussed. “You do that crap way too much.”

  Her voice was no longer silky smooth. There was venom there, like she hated the fact that her husband was so in tune with his sexuality. Michael sidled up to the island, gripped my thighs. We both turned when we heard David walking down the stairs. When he entered the kitchen, I gasped at the way he looked. His locks swinging back and forth, he stalked closer to both of us. His eyes were alive. The look on his face told me he wanted more of me, needed more of me. While my eyes took in the man whom I loved past the point of being friends, though I hated to admit it, Michael discarded his underwear and eased his way inside me.

  I couldn’t help it. A moan escaped my lips that was so sensual, Michael had to place his tongue in my mouth to quiet me. I eased back, breaking the kiss he had used to silence me. I hissed as my hands gripped both sides of the island. The cool feeling of it, along with Michael’s invasion of my inner walls, forced an arch to form in my back that was so deep, it hurt.

  Michael answered his wife. “Don’t worry. I will.”

  “Is that porn, Mike? You’re watching disgusting whores and desperate men screw for a fee, right?” she nagged, the disgust clearly showing in her voice.

  “If that’s what you want to call it.”

  My eyes watched David as he watched us. I couldn’t read him. I didn’t know what he was thinking anymore, but I was happy when he walked forward and placed his lips on mine. He had to silence me. He was helping to cover up his friend’s adulterous fuck session. Michael had placed his palm flat against my pelvis, and he was using the heel of his hand to press down as he worked his hips. The way he had danced earlier, moved his hips like he was born and bred in the Caribbean, proved that he could do it while naked too.

  My legs started to shake. David’s upper body covered me while he tongued me down. His hands were all over my breasts, massaging them, and then they slid down my stomach and to my clit to help his best friend out. He was seducing my senses with his touch. Still, I moaned into his mouth. My back arched farther, and my hips started to thrust back into Michael.

  “And you’re going to turn the volume up so I can hear it, huh?” his wife asked. “Good night, Mike,” she said.

  He didn’t respond. Kept pumping into me like he was trying to make me his, and then he stopped. Stopped abruptly, like he hadn’t been about to make me lose my mind. He stood between my thighs, dick inside me, pulsating. Anytime his dick thumped, my Kegel muscles responded in kind. He pulled out. Picked up his phone to make sure his wife was gone and then put his focus back on me. Used his head to thrust between the folds of my pussy, stimulating my clit more. He did that until I was sweating and practically begging him to fuck me. When he finally did give in to my request, he went in deep. Made me take all of him. Pressed his pelvic bone against my clitoris so that as he fucked me, my clit would feel that heated friction.

  His wife had to be out of her damned mind not to appreciate the animal he was.

  David

  We were locked in a perpetual war of lovemaking. The harder he fucked her, the harder I fucked him. There was jealousy laced with tension and sensual madness in each of my thrusts. Each time he made her moan, hiss, arch, and throw her pussy back at him, I buried myself deeper into him. Summer had come to me, had asked me to show her this side of me. She wanted to see me with Michael.

  “You sure?” I’d asked her.

  She’d nodded, but she had been nervous. I could tell. “Yeah. I want to see . . . you with him. I need to see it to accept it.”

  “You don’t have to see it.”

  “I have to, David, trust me.”

  I had thumbed my bottom lip and glanced around the room. Michael was quiet. Had been quiet since the phone call with his wife and his escapade with Summer. He was listening, though. I could tell he was listening by the way he leaned forward and looked at us.
We had all showered and were lounging around in Summer’s front room. Music was playing, and we were basking in the afterglow of supernova sex.

  “Can you handle it? If we go there, will you be able to handle it?” I asked her to be sure.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m willing to at least try. I want to see. I saw how you reacted to him when he touched you in the club. I saw you two kiss. I handled it okay. I don’t want to deny you the pleasure you’ve been giving me. I can handle it, David.”

  I was shocked. I wasn’t expecting her to ask to see the other side of me. I looked back at Michael. There was no need for me to ask if he was willing. I knew he would be. I wanted to touch him. Wanted to be with him. Hadn’t had a connection with any man the way he and I had connected. That was the way it had always been. When I had seen him strut across the Morehouse campus, he and I had connected.

  I’d been trying to stick to my guns, to abstain, the whole time, being that he was married. Not so much that he was married, because at least if his wife had known about that side of him, I wouldn’t feel like I was being the stereotypical down-low nigga who deceived women. Being reckless and adding to the negativity surrounding black men, homosexuality, and bisexuality. Yet I was willing to do anything for the woman standing in front of me. So I did it. Got into it, into Michael, like we had been back in college. Back in those hotel rooms, away from prying eyes and wondering minds.

  She had seen Michael touching me, but she had never seen me touch him. I opened up, showed her that side of me. Kissed him, put my feelings into those kisses. Touched him as he touched me. I didn’t hold back. I wanted her to see what she had asked for.

  I’d asked her if she could handle. She couldn’t. Not at first. I started slow. Gave it to her in increments, so as not to freak her out. Slipped my dick into Michael inch by inch so I could hear his low moan. Summer’s breathing was slow. She inhaled and exhaled like it hurt for her to do so. As soon as my dick had slipped all the way into him, she gasped. I stopped. At least I wanted to stop, but I couldn’t. Michael’s groan, that primal shit that only he could give me, set me off. There was something about making another man, one as masculine as you, moan. There was nothing like it.