Bi-Satisfied

by Nikki-Michelle

  The fact that Michael still kept his mannishness while we were having sex had always been a turn-on. So this time was no different. I was into it, and so was he. He used the chair to balance himself as I worked behind him. He didn’t bend over. Didn’t put the same dip in his back that Summer would have if I had been loving her from behind. His hand was on his dick, and he was jerking himself off. I could see Summer fighting the many different emotions I was sure she was feeling. On her face was a plethora of emotions. There was a little bit of shock mixed with jealousy and anger, but there was also arousal. She hated that she felt as if she would never be enough for me. I could see she was feeling some type of way about the unmatched pleasure written across my face. I didn’t hide it from her, either. I gave her what she had asked for.

  She crossed her legs. Sat back in the other chair. Uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. Her left leg started to shake. She didn’t know what to feel. Didn’t know how to react. Michael said something vulgar to me. I responded in kind. Summer’s eyes blinked rapidly, and her whole body started to shake. I bent my legs, sank deeper into Michael. He was sexy and in the throes of passion. A sheen of sweat covered his dark brown skin as the muscles rolled in his back. It was beautiful. The muscles in his ass looked the same. I felt beads of sweat form at my temples. Heavy breathing serenaded us.

  I could feel that Michael hadn’t been with other men the way he was with me. I was the only man he was a bottom for. The rest of the time he was the top, but for me . . . for me, he took dick. My dick. All of it. I threw my head back and gave in to that need to let my desire and satisfaction be heard.

  Summer stood up abruptly. I thought she was headed for the exit. In fact, she did head to the door. I called out to her. So did Michael. I didn’t want to force her to stay. Didn’t want her to leave, because I knew I was too deep into the moment to go after her. There was silence. The moment was tense until she closed the door. I didn’t know what was about to happen. Had no idea what to expect. I just knew I didn’t want her to leave.

  She walked over to where we were. There was anger in her eyes. So much so that she slapped me and then slapped Michael harder. I wanted to reach out and grab her. Wanted to shake the shit out of her, because she’d told me she could handle it or least would try to. She wasn’t handling it. I watched her as she forced herself between Michael and the chair. She stood there, eyeing him. Kept her eyes on him as he asked me to keep fucking him. I looked at her, but she wouldn’t look at me. I wanted her to look at me, but she kept her eyes locked on him.

  That angered me as I gave Michael what he had asked for. As I did so, he kissed her. Sucked on her neck and breasts. I could tell by the way Summer was biting her lower lip that he was getting to her. I fucked him, and he seduced her. Was coaxing her into the kind of threesome she hadn’t wanted initially. Her eyelids fluttered when he lifted her from the floor and slowly entered her. He inched his way inside her like he had all the time in the world.

  Then she looked at me. In her eyes was spite. She wanted me to feel what it was like to have the same man who brought me immense pleasure do the same to her. The more Michael moved in and out of her, the more my dick swelled as I moved in and out of him. Michael was losing control.... He was fucking Summer.... I was fucking him. . . . All three of us were fucking one another.

  “Fuck, David,” he roared at me, then bit down into Summer’s neck.

  Her head fell back, and she let go. Started throwing her pussy back at him while calling out his name over and over again. I was jealous. I fucked Michael like I was jealous. He sexed Summer like he had something to prove. He was working his hips and grinding with her like he was trying to make her forget about me.

  We were locked in a perpetual war of lovemaking.

  I could feel my head swell as I was about to explode. Michael rode Summer harder. He yelled that he was about to come. Summer begged him to come with her as she locked her eyes on me.

  “Fuck me harder, and then come with me, Michael. Don’t hold back. Let it all go, baby,” she cooed at him, all the while keeping her eyes locked on me. “Fuck him harder, David. Make him come for me,” she demanded of me. “Uh-huh. Oh, God, make him come for me, David,” she said breathlessly. “Make . . . him . . .”

  I gave her what she wanted. Threw dick to Michael that only a real man could take. I was at my apex, reaching that peak of utter delirium, when my world became foggy.

  An alarm went off in my head. Why the hell was an alarm going off right when I was so close to climaxing?

  “David?” a voice called out to me. “David, the alarm. Turn the alarm off,” he said.

  My eyes shot open. I slapped Summer’s alarm until it quieted, and then looked around the room. One of my hands was on my dick and was soaked with my come, and the other was wrapped around Summer as she slept on my chest. It took me a minute to get my bearings. My vision was blurry. As always, Summer had taken my glasses off as I slept. I moved my arm from underneath Summer’s head and grabbed my glasses from the nightstand and looked around. Michael was lying on the other side of her.

  I looked at the clock after placing my arm back around her. Glaring boxed red numbers told me it was six thirty in the morning.

  “Good dream, huh?” Michael asked me with a smirk on his face.

  “Fuck you,” I replied, glad the sheet was still covering my privates, although I was sure moisture could be seen on it, anyway.

  “Trying to.”

  I cut my eyes over at him. He chuckled.

  It had all been a dream. The three of us hadn’t acted out that fantasy of a threesome. After the tryst in her kitchen, we had found our way to her bed again. Had sucked, licked, and had congress with one another until we couldn’t keep our eyes open anymore.

  “What time does your flight leave?” I asked him.

  “Three thirty.”

  “What time are you trying to get back to your hotel room?”

  He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. His back inflated and deflated slowly. Something was on his mind. I looked at the keloid across his back, which stood out like an African tribal marking. He stood, and I took in the power in his back, ass, and thighs. My dick came to life in remembrance of what it had been like to penetrate all that power. I looked at the woman sleeping soundly in my arms.

  She’d said yes. Finally. After eight years she’d said yes. But it was during sex. So, to me, that didn’t count. I needed her to say yes while she was sober. Sex did to the brain what drugs and alcohol did to the brain. I needed her to be sober when she said yes to me again. Still, the fact that she had said yes would be enough for me right now.

  “After breakfast,” he said as he turned to me.

  His dick was still semi-hard as he watched Summer, then looked at me. Remnants of her sticky come coated his thighs. We had lain there naked as we slept. We had played while we were naked too. Summer had looked on in curiosity as Michael and I had used our hands to play with the other’s manhood until we both got off. The way she had squeezed her legs closed had told me that she, too, was turned on, but she had been too afraid to show it. Hadn’t wanted to admit that having two males who were not afraid of their sexuality, as was the case with Michael and me, had turned her on.

  “Everything good with you and Sadi back home?”

  He tsk-tsked. Didn’t answer me right away. He walked into the bathroom and released his bladder. Flushed the toilet and washed his hands.

  “I don’t know how to answer that,” he said after he emerged from the bathroom and leaned against the doorpost. “Shit’s been crazy for the past couple of years. Seems like every year she changes on me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Shit, we used to have sex every day, sometimes twice, three times a day. Now, even if I try to eat her pussy, she acts as if the shit disgusts her.”

  “You think she’s cheating?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m sexually adventurous. I know that. I’ve introduced her to som
e things during our marriage that I thought she was cool with, but now it seems like anything I do sexually repulses her. I can’t even touch my own dick without her saying something.”

  “Damn, that sounds like you’re about to be close to the priesthood.”

  “Tell me about it. Hence the reason I slip, trip, and fall into pussy I have to struggle with until I bust a nut. ”

  “How often you cheating on her?”

  He shrugged. “Started a couple of weeks ago. Girl who works at my shop in Staten Island. It’s just sex, though. Want somebody who doesn’t make me feel like sucking my dick is a chore they hate to do.”

  Michael looked at Summer as he finished his last statement. She stirred in my arms, as if she could subconsciously feel him staring at her. I knew he was remembering how she had performed fellatio on him. I gently laid her head down on the pillow and sat up. I yawned and stretched my back before looking back over at Michael. My eyes traveled from his feet up to his thighs, lingered at what made him a man. I took in his hands. Summer was in love with his hands. Kept saying she couldn’t believe he was a mechanic, with hands as smooth as his were. She loved when he touched her. My right eye twitched. Eyes kept roaming over the abs we had constructed together and he had perfected even more over time, then moved up to his chiseled chest. I tilted my head and focused on his lips.

  “I’m saying, though, if you’re going to keep looking at me like you want—”

  “Never said I didn’t want to,” I said, cutting him off. “Just not going to.”

  My dream replayed itself for me in that moment. Shit had been intense. Had felt real. Almost too real. I grabbed my shirt and wiped my come from my hands and thighs, then tossed it in Summer’s laundry basket across the room.

  “Door’s always open,” he replied, with that classic grin on his face.

  I didn’t respond as I chuckled and stood. I walked over to where he was so I could go into the bathroom. He moved when I got to the door, then stopped so that we stood adjacent to one another. The heat emanating from us was almost too much to bear. His hands grabbed my locks as he let his tongue trail my ear. Shit that always turned me on.

  “I’m sure it is,” I told him.

  “Walk through it.”

  “Nah.”

  He chuckled. Kissed my neck and then my shoulder. I was tempted to take him up on that offer. The need to relive burying myself inside him almost rendered me senseless. When he went to kiss my cheek, I turned so he could catch my lips.

  “You say no, but you play with fire,” he said after the kiss was over.

  I kissed him again. Let my tongue invade his mouth like he belonged to me. I wanted to kiss him long enough to do to him what he’d done to Summer in the movie theater. My hands cupped the back of his neck so I could take the kiss deeper. Needed to show him that I had indeed missed him. Wanted him. I could have gotten lost in that kiss, which was what he wanted. I could tell by the way his hand tugged at my locks. But I wasn’t a fool.

  I pulled back when he tried to deepen the kiss. “Because I know when to leave the kitchen,” I said as I moved away from him and stepped into the bathroom. I stepped forward and smacked his muscled ass, then stepped back into the bathroom, winked at him with a lopsided grin of my own, and closed the door behind me. I locked it, too, just to be on the safe side.

  I took care of what I needed to in the bathroom, hopped in the shower, and got dressed. Michael and I had discussed the issues surrounding his marriage. Had avoided the sexual tension between us all together. He was annoyed that I wouldn’t take him down like he wanted. I was annoyed that he acted as if he couldn’t comprehend my reason for not doing so.

  By the time Summer made it down the stairs, I was ready to go for breakfast. No matter how Michael and I were feeling in the moment, we couldn’t deny Summer’s presence. She had her hair in that loose ponytail style I liked. Ripped skinny jeans and an oversize sweater comprised her outfit of choice, along with wine-colored combat boots that matched the color of her sweater. She stopped in front of me and kissed me. She kissed me anywhere her lips could get on my face. My eyes, lips, neck. Stuck her tongue back in my mouth and made me want to take her back upstairs and make her scream yes for me again.

  She pulled back and smiled at me. She didn’t kiss Michael, though. She asked him to palm her ass. Told him she craved the way his hands had massaged her breasts. She kissed me and wanted him to touch her. I looked on in silence as he made her body his playground. Then she stopped him.

  “I need to eat because I’m weak,” she said.

  “Only takes five minutes for me to take care of that orgasm I know you want,” Michael practically pleaded with her.

  “Would take me only three,” I told her, feeling competitive.

  Michael growled. That nigga actually growled low in his throat as he looked at me while holding her waist from behind as she leaned forward against the island.

  I walked over to Summer and kissed her lips softly. “Mine?” I asked her.

  There was a heady look in her eyes. “Yours,” she responded.

  Michael kissed the back of her neck and released his hold on her. Once she had grabbed her purse, keys, and phone, we headed out.

  We dined at Soulfood Bistro and Café near Underground Atlanta, a shopping district in Five Points. It was a quaint little place that was always crowded. The place was run by four generations of black women. They made the kind of food that only black women could put their special mark on and keep you coming back for more. From the homemade biscuits to the homemade maple syrup, you knew black women were in the kitchen.

  Michael’s wife called him again while we were eating. She didn’t speak to him long, even though he tried to speak to her. She put the kids on the phone and then rushed him like he was aggravating her. I could see that it bothered him by the way he spoke to her. Sadi didn’t seem to care, though. She wanted to get off the phone. Michael left his plate on the table and walked outside so he wouldn’t cause a scene while he voiced his displeasure with the way she was treating him.

  “Has she always been that way?” Summer asked me.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Has she always been afraid of sex?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Was she as uptight with you?”

  “Nope.”

  I really didn’t want to talk about Sadi or the time she and I had sex. She had been something to do, a way for me to try to hurt the one who had hurt me. But Summer was curious. She wanted to know about the woman who was married to the man I used to love.

  “So, she had no problem busting it open for you, but she won’t do the same for her husband?” she asked.

  “He said it started in the past few years.”

  “What does she do for a living?”

  “She’s a lawyer.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “A lawyer and a mechanic. That’s different. Odd and different,” she commented, more so to herself than to me.

  I was busy stuffing down my country ham and scrambled eggs. “Yeah,” I finally responded.

  “Michael went to school to be a mechanic?”

  “Not at first.”

  She waited for me to elaborate, but I didn’t. “Well, what was he going to be before a mechanic?” she asked.

  “A lawyer.”

  She grunted, deep in thought, as she ate her red velvet pancakes. “How in the hell did he go from being a law student to a mechanic?” she asked a moment later.

  “You have to ask him,” I answered. I could feel myself getting irritated with her twenty-one questions about Michael.

  She picked up on it. “Am I annoying you, David?”

  I finally looked over at her. “A little bit.”

  She didn’t respond. She finished her breakfast in silence from there on out. When Michael came back in, she talked to him. Asked him frankly why his wife wasn’t comfortable with his sexual nature. He declined to answer.

 
David

  After breakfast was done, we decided to walk around Five Points for a bit and make a stop at Underground Atlanta. Some kind of way during the walk, one of Summer’s hands ended up in mine and the other in Michael’s. People stared openly at the plus-sized beauty with the two black men on her arms. We walked through Underground Atlanta, beneath the streets, where eclectic collided with eccentric, and yet all eyes were on us.

  We stopped at the African Pride shop so Michael could purchase a few things that he couldn’t find in New York sometimes. Mainly, he wanted the homemade body oils that the shop owner made with all organic ingredients. I grabbed some black soap for Summer. She liked the smell of it. Grabbed some incense for both of us. She saw a painting of a dark-skinned woman caught in the rapture of love and surrounded by two African warriors. I invested in my future and spent more dough on the painting for her.

  Michael volunteered to take it back to my truck, but only because Sadi had called him and asked him if he was on his way to the airport. Suffice it to say, he wasn’t. There would be another argument for him to endure, I was sure.

  “You said yes to me last night. Did you mean it?” I asked Summer as we walked hand in hand to the Aroma Paradise Bar to get her some scented crystals.

  “Yeah,” she answered softly. Her answer didn’t carry any weight, didn’t affirm anything.

  “It was during sex, so it doesn’t count.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because you were high.”

  “On sex?”

  “Yes. We all were. Sex has the same effect on the brain as drugs and alcohol.” She laughed. I didn’t. “I need you to say it when you’re sober.”