Where this gets even further complicated is in the intersection with bisexuality. Genuine stories about bisexual people in which the relationships and sexuality of bi folks are honored are few and far between. The closest we get are menage stories. Those can be fantastic when well-written, but they are not the sum total of bisexuality. We get erased enough by the world as it is because who we are is based on what people read us as on first sight.
It forces a kind of repeated coming out with all the accompanying fear of explaining who I am. I am fully aware that writing specifically for a bisexual audience carries risk. But strangely, it does. I was really horrified by the results. They read like a bad Grindr profile: Equally, book reviews are a cesspool of vicious commentary.
The list of complaints against authors who dare put a toe out of line is long—just reading the reviews for some books is enough to make me want to take three showers. And if a straight woman cannot tolerate other forms of queerness, we have many different words for that: His lips moved, but he spoke so low that Georgie could only hear the rumble of his voice. It was just a peck and lasted only a second, but it was enough to send her spirits plummeting. Bitterness filled her mouth.
She hated them both. Etienne slid off his stool and handed his beer to Anthony. Before she looked at Anthony, she waved at the bartender for another rum and Coke. Anthony slid into the seat Etienne had vacated and cinched his arm around her wrist. A bubble of laughter broke in her throat and chewed up some of her misery. She took a moment to enjoy it with a roll of her eyes. I seem to be really popular tonight. All the boys want to buy me drinks. His eyes narrowed slightly, and she was on the receiving end of what looked like pity.
The weight of that single syllable pushed down on her shoulders. It sounded pathetic, and she felt pathetic.
It was too late for Georgie. She already felt worse than she had before. The humiliation of being a thirty-year-old temp heaped on top of the essence of skank left on her by their make-out on the street. One thing Anthony shared with his sister was the tendency to analyze Georgie when he thought she needed it. He called for a shot of vodka, and after gulping it, he scooted forward until his knee bumped hers.
All I need now is my scarlet letter. In fact, his goal for the evening has been to make nice with you. Now get your fucking coat. She felt hot all over by the time he made eye contact again. Her argument was cut short when he took the hem of her veil and flipped it over her face. He kept her close, his hands on her hips while she dug into her purse for her keys.
She was so turned on, she was shaking. It seemed like an impossible feat to work the lock to the lobby door. She gave up with a sigh, and he closed his hand over hers to work the lock. They rode the elevator up, then went flying through the heavy door into her darkened foyer. He bumped her from behind, urging her toward the bedroom, and stopped when she flicked on the overhead light. He dragged her along, and when she could see again, she was standing amid the boxed rubble of her living room.
Anthony eyed the futon. In a moment, all that was left were her flats. He plunked her into the concave mattress, and she kicked. I just have to do it. Anthony shucked off his polo over his head and then snagged his wallet from his back pocket, from which he extracted a small red packet. He held it between his teeth while she peeled his jeans and briefs to his knees. His cock sprang up, arcing away from a sparse smattering of blond hair. While he was tilting back and forth trying to get out of the last pant leg, she ran her hand along his inner thigh and cupped his balls.
She leaned forward and swept her tongue over the swollen head of his cock. He pulled back, spit out the condom, and caught it in both hands.
- Die Lehrjahre eines Humanisten (German Edition);
- Read 'Out Of The Blue: A MMF Romance' by A.M. Hartnett | Tablo.
- Excerpt: Long Hard Ride by Lorelei James.
- Dismissed with Prejudice: A J.P. Beaumont Novel (J. P. Beaumont Novel).
While he tore open the foil, Georgie contented herself with skimming her fingertips along the backs of his thighs, up to the plump curve of his buttocks. He rolled the condom over the length and reached out to take her wrists. Her breath caught at the back of her throat, and her heartbeat picked up as he covered her mouth with his. Georgie tilted her head to one side, opening her mouth to his insistent tongue.
He cupped her head and held her in place. His tongue was silky and insistent as he curled it around hers. Impatience skirled in her belly with every delectable stroke. She sucked his tongue deeper into her mouth. He urged her against the stuffed cushion. Once more she reached around his body and splayed both hands over his round ass. The hissing sound as he sucked in a quick breath spurred her. She curled her fingers, digging the tips of her nails in. His moan gurgled around her tongue, and she puckered her lips around his, sucking him deeper into her hot mouth.
Only when one of her hands meandered over his hip and she reached for his cock did his tolerance wane. He went to his knees before her and nuzzled the bare flesh above her swollen cunt. His tongue darted out. Rings of pleasure throbbed in her belly as he drew a half circle around the puffy flesh hood. Instead of completing its descent southward, he licked a trail over her belly and upward, between her breasts and over her throat to meet her lips again.
The soft hair on the back of his hand brushed the insides of her thighs as he touched her. Moisture seeped out even before he ran his thumb over her clit. With a half smile, he watched her face as the effect of his fingers manifested in a long shudder. The recollection flared up before her.
Georgie spread-eagle on her bed, one hand gripping the headboard above her. I kept catching you rubbing yourself under the table. She tucked her tongue at the corner of her mouth as she watched him pull back the sheath surrounding her clit. She curled her fingers behind her back and pushed down on the futon frame, inviting him to go on. As if Anthony had ever needed any invitation. Sliding two fingers deep inside, he dipped his head and licked her. The first expert tickling at the sensitive underside of her clit brought her pelvis up off of the futon.
She tilted her head back against the cushion and closed her eyes as tiny waves of pleasure ebbed through her body with every swipe of his tongue. She wanted this, and at the same time she wanted to wrap her legs around him and hold on as he fucked her, or to have his hands on her hips as he pumped into her from behind. Impatience squirmed under her skin as she warred with herself. It was a steady, slow-building burn that was most powerful between her legs but she felt everywhere.
Hungry for more, she spread her legs wider and cupped the back of his head. With a growl, she realized again he had cut off his hair and she had nothing to grab onto any longer, and so she just held him against her. She could always count on him to know exactly how to get her off. There was no hesitation on his part. His fingers fucked her with a steady cadence to match the hot suction of his mouth and the flick of his tongue. She dug her nails into his scalp and felt the momentary tension against her, lasting no longer than a deep intake of breath. His thrusts became more intense, pumping his fingers to the knuckle.
His tongue rapidly circled her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to just the right places. Her whole body was charged and throbbing as she rocked her ass against the seat. She moaned as the first pulse ricocheted along her pussy. Her inner walls throbbed around his fingers. With the next throb, she jerked and closed her fist around the back of his scalp. With the third she pushed against the futon and ground her pussy against his mouth, holding him between her legs. The heat his lips and tongue stoked swirled deep in her belly, reaching outward until she was overflowing with pleasure.
She pushed against the futon and ground her pussy against his mouth as her orgasm thumped through her body. Anthony flexed his fingers inside of her. Grinning, he licked his lips. He stood and bumped the edge of the futon with his shins. His forehead crinkled, and his mouth twisted up as he started to laugh.
You sold your furniture?
I need the money more than I need the furniture right now. Anthony reached out and ran his hand along her cheek. Georgie drew a quick breath before his mouth met hers. With Anthony, she never knew just what to expect with his kiss.
Bisexual Erasure and M/M Romance
Sometimes he could be brusque and demanding, and other times he was such a tease. This time he was soft and slow, sucking gently on her bottom lip before curling his tongue around hers. The taste of her own gratification, tart and musky, was still on his tongue. She cupped his face and invited a deeper kiss, then slipped her other hand between them. Her knuckles bumped over the ridges of his ab muscles. She hesitated just above his cock.
He knelt between her legs and hooked both hands under her knees. He spread her out while Georgie guided his sheathed dick to her wet cunt. He pushed just an inch and then reached forward to grasp the back of the wooden frame, boxing her in. Georgie placed both hands on his hips. Slowly she ran her hands around him until her fingers sprawled on his ass.
Anthony filled her with one fluid thrust. The fat tip of his penis glided past her G-spot and sent a little current through her. They were chest to chest. When he sucked in a deep breath, she felt pinned. He withdrew and rotated his hips with his second pass. Georgie leaned forward enough to flick her tongue against his nipple.
She bit down as a ripple pulsed the length of her pussy. Her moan was wet and muffled against his pectoral.
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Her fingers dimpled into his ass, and the muscle went taut as he started to work his cock in and out, faster and harder with each wet thrust. He made a sound like a purr that skittered from his body to hers. Usually you like being fucked nice and slow first. She squeezed the hot walls of her pussy around him and felt a small, triumphant thrill race through her as he sucked in a deep breath.
Even in the shadow his body cast over hers, she could see how swollen she was. She felt gloriously exposed, and seeing what he was doing to her only increased the hot urgency running through her body. She cut her nails into his ass and rested her head against him as she watched him work her faster. Every time he pumped into her, the burst of pleasure she felt became more intense.
He grasped her wrists, then dragged her arms up and pinned her hands beneath his against the back of the sofa. His pace picked up at once, hard and unrelenting, battering his body against hers. With no other freedom to move, she rocked her ass against the cushion in time with his thrusts.
His thighs pushed against hers. Squeeze down on me. Let me feel you burn. He steadily worked his cock in and out and continued to urge her on. Every illicit word was as good as his body moving inside of her. As the escalating pleasure built and built, her self-control diminished until there was none. She moaned long and loud from the back of her throat. She lolled her head against the cushion and took deep, gulping breaths as she was flooded inside and out. White-hot waves undulated along the length of her pussy.
One, two, three, each more powerful than the next, taking over her completely. She was finally able to take a breath while he withdrew until only the head remained inside, and then he began to pump into her with more rigor than ever. Left tighter than ever by her orgasm, she felt every inch of every thrust. This was the familiar. In the aftermath of her orgasm, her pussy pulsed. She held him tight against her as he drove deep one last time, crushing her against the futon.
- Hit the Showers.
- Excerpt: Long Hard Ride by Lorelei James | Angela James;
- Secrets of the Hidden Valley (Sons of Inu Book 1).
- Shadow Of Guilt;
His fingers loosened and he sagged against her, arms draped over the back of the futon. Georgie slipped her arms around him and nuzzled into his chest, letting the taste and scent of him linger as they both came down. They were tangled together on the futon, wrapped in a fuzzy fleece blanket. There was, in fact, a wet spot beneath Georgie, and she was fairly confident she had been the culprit. In fact, you yourself are an entire wet spot. She plopped on the opposite side of him and tucked the blanket up to her chin, then eyed the stain.
God, she loved how weird he was. He turned his head and raised his eyebrows. They sell vibrators behind the counter. Not one of those spidery-looking ones they sell in the drugstore, either. A real one, like a Pocket Rocket. The guy behind the counter had no idea. He kept looking down at me with those glasses on the end of his nose.
It was like she had gotten laid for the first time all over again. At any minute she would start dancing around on her toes, flipping her hair, and shaking her jiggly parts for the fun of it.
Bisexual Erasure and M/M Romance
She curled in closer to him and nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder. He made a small sound of approval and propped his head against the top of hers. The conversation was inevitable, but she wanted to be the one to initiate it in her own style, by being a little pissy, a little pouty, and very sorry.
Do you still have a shower curtain, or did you sell that too? He turned the knob and backed up. After years of showering in her crappy apartment, he knew its quirks, such as the blast of freezing water that lasted thirty seconds before it turned hot. He winced when he put his foot under the water. Georgie ducked her head under the water long enough to wet her hair. Does it pay scads? Do you want to be a kept man? Getting someone available and halfway competent will get me off the hook. He drew a deep breath as he worked up a lather.
Monday to Friday, nine to five, the occasional Saturday afternoon. The boss is kind of scatterbrained, though. She took the green bottle from him and squeezed out a drop, seeing as he had so little hair now and the stuff was ten bloody dollars a bottle. They rinsed out under the water and commenced squelching their hands together on the strip of soap that clung to flimsy, translucent life. Answering phones but no reception. The office is always locked on account of some of the stronger personalities that mosey on in. You have to page your request up.
Georgie paused, silent as he lathered up her shoulders. It felt like there were some pieces coming together at the back of her brain. She held her arms up and enjoyed the efficient yet entirely erotic attention he paid to every inch of skin above the waist, his bony hands cupping and squeezing her breasts and tweaking her nipples until they peaked into hard buds. His tongue skittered over the curlicue of her ear and then across her lower lip.
His hands moved lower, one in front and one behind, both working between her legs. She was still sensitive and winced at such brusque treatment, but enjoyed it nonetheless as slippery fingers rubbed between her pussy lips. By the time he had finished and she turned around, she was in a full-body throb. Anthony thumbed her swollen slit, giving her a quick kiss as a shudder rolled through her from head to toe, and then it was his turn. Best you not think about it. Best you read from a series of cards taped next to the phone. Anthony caught her around the waist. Fright morphed to fury, and he gave her a shake.
You could have cracked your head open. His brows flew up, and he burst out laughing. What the hell is that supposed to mean?