The Quiet Bisexual

If I didn't say anything about my life, nobody would think I'm anything other than your average white guy in his twenties just trying to get by. Couldn't pick me out of a line up, or call attention to any distinguishing features, I'm a non-playable character most likely to be forgotten minutes after leaving a room. I could be anyone.

But notice, I never said that was a bad thing.

I was out one night with college friends and their significant others just having a beer and sharing a laugh, when Jack put his arm around me and sidled up real close.

"Hey brother- single life, feast or famine?" With that, Jack smacked my chest and late laughed at a group joke, then returned to his queries. Jack was the boyfriend of a friend of a friend, and was himself a nondescript douchebag. I didn't like Jack. Jack didn't know me, but was always overbearing and overly familiar with everyone. When given the chance, he would monopolize entire conversations and lead them to the conclusion that whatever he had an opinion on- he was right about.

With me, anytime he felt we had a quiet moment he would inquire about my love life, managing to express both a simmering jealousy as well as his standard issue masculine superiority. Many a group occasion would see him putting his arm around me and telling me why I needed to "man up" in order to find a woman. Great advice Jack.

Except I really didn't need any advice on the subject, never mind coming from a first class moron like Jack. I just quietly moved in and out of bedrooms, backseats, bathrooms and bathhouses fucking and getting fucked with abandon. But I never needed to talk about it.

One particular weekend I'd met a girl at a house party that turned into a late night orgy. A pretty brunette with large breasts and a delicate sundress had begun to slow dance with me in the hallway. As the heat rose up in the house, clothes were lost and bodies found their way to any soft place. Callie and I giggled as we tried to decide whether it was best to pull her dress up and off, or untie the straps and let it fall- all the while she untied my shorts and pulled my cock out. She had me naked before I managed to get a single strap from off her shoulder, setting forth a delicious dynamic between us.

Leaving our clothes in the hall we stumbled into the living room, naked bodies strewn about in various positions eliciting an array of slurps, moans and cries. I fought to push Callie into the lazy boy as she didn't want to cede control, but as bold as I was I knew I'd submitted to that furry patch between her legs.

I settled down on my knees in front of her, giving a smile before rubbing my stubbled cheeks across her fleshy thighs. I leant inwards to tickle my nose with her pubes, inhaling the smell of her arousal and searching out her labia with my tongue. I pulled back long enough to give her a conspiratorial glance then dove back in. I peppered her cunt with kisses, encouraging her to spread herself wider and provide me greater access. I swiped at her insides, relishing the tinny taste of her pussy as she grabbed my hair and grunted. I loved eating pussy and secretly wished everyone in that room would put me to service. But for now it was Callie.

I ate away with furious passion, raising myself up on all fours for a better angle and gripping the top of her legs. This seemed to be a clear invitation for some unseen person behind me to spread my cheeks and spit on my hole- sending a jolt of pleasure up my spine. Before I could turn to see who it was Callie had taken my head with both hands and buried me in her cunt. The stranger behind me quickly moved from fingering to tonguing my hole and I could feel my knees begin to wiggle. I could feel Callie tweak away at her clit and met her fingers with my tongue. She pinched the flesh tight and let me lick at it, causing her body to spasm in the chair. My ass alternated from being rimmed to being fingered, and in hindsight I likely wouldn't have been surprised if someone began to fuck me. At the time though I was an out of control dog without a cogent thought in my brain. Callie was getting wetter and wetter the longer I went, and at one point released a brief spray of fluid as I reared back to catch my breath. Again I dove back in as she shifted her butt down in the seat. I had to reposition myself, and lost the person doing the work on my ass, but I rededicated myself to Callie's orgasm.

I sawed my fingers in and out of her as I went back to her clit, nibbling it and causing her to jump. I wanted to make her cum more than anything else, and seemed to get madder the longer it took. By the time she lurched forward and cried out I was practically fisting her. I pulled back and watched her face contort as I carried on fucking her with my hand. She splashed me again and I slowly became aware that everyone else in the room had stopped to watch the show. With an audience I began to slow my motions and focus on the ecstasy on Callies face. A smattering of applause was heard as I fell back to the floor, and was joined by my glowing new lover. We wrapped ourselves up in one another and shyly giggled as we kissed. I lay there in peace as our sweaty skin grew clammy and I could feel her breathing slow.

A small sweet voice was heard telling us how beautiful we were and politely asking if they could suck my dick. I looked at Callie who smiled in approval before turning onto my back. An unassuming red head with small breasts and fishnets worked her way to my cock as a skinny young black dude sat back and rubbed her ass. The way he looked at me made me wonder if he was the one who had worked my ass earlier. If not I was certainly open to the possibility.

The redhead got me off, and the four of us made out for awhile before splitting. Folks got tired and started to shuffle off or settled in for the night. I had checked in with Callie who was thirsty and hankering for a Gatorade, so I nakedly walked to the kitchen and checked what was available. Fuck it, I really liked this girl - store is down the street. So I threw on some clothes and told Callie where I was going, giving her a kiss on the forehead and leaving her to chat with a zaftig cub with nipple rings. Oh yeah, I'd be back for this.

It was out on the street when I'd been walking for a half a block that I noticed something peculiar. It took me a minute, but then it dawned on me. I'd had my face soaked in pussy juice for fifteen minutes and never bothered to wash. I reeked of cunt, the smell caught in my hair and stubble. It was little gross, but kinda fucking hot. I loved it, just walking around like a little pussy bitch. My quiet joy in perversion was disrupted by the time I hit the main street where the shop was, turning a corner and running into Lucy.

Lucy being Jack's girlfriend. Yeah, that Jack.

"Oh my god!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, breaking free from her friends and staggering over to me with open arms. I half smiled, shocked to see her and a little surprised she'd recognized me so quickly. She was a friend of a friend, so we weren't that tight. All I'd known about her was that she was a bit of a spoiled rich kid who had drug connections and a shitty boyfriend. But here she was in the wee hours of the morning throwing herself at me with a hug, very clearly drunk.

All the girls were wearing skimpy party dresses with varying degrees of shininess, and aside from their inebriation were a pretty sharp contrast to my dishevelled state. It took a moment but as soon as Lucy began bear hugging me I was reminded of just how bad I smelled, and how obvious it would soon be to the girl with no filter.

Lucy began telling her friends how much she loved me, and how cool I was as the trio glared at me with questioning eyes. They politely went to pull her off, which just made her grip me tighter as she rambled on some nonsense. I was mortified waiting for her to notice the ripe stank of sex on me, and nearly went into shock as she began to give me big wet sloppy kisses on the side of my face and neck. She had to have smelled it, she had to have tasted it at this point right? How fucking drunk was she??? Thankfully her pissy friends managed to pull her away as we bid our goodbyes. I wiped her drool off my face, continued on to the store and back to Callie where we carried on with our fun until the sun came up.

Since then, every time I've found myself stuck at a party listening to my good buddy Jack lecture me about women, I just sip my drink and smile. I lose myself wondering about whether Lucy went home that night and fucked her boyfriend, kissing him as messily as she kissed me. I'm tempted to put my arm around his shoulder, draw him in close and tell him every nasty thing I did the night I ran into Lucy, every cunt, cock and asshole I lavished myself in, and how the closest he would get to the levels of my perversion was to have tasted Callie in his girlfriend's mouth.

But I don't. I'm just an average white guy in his twenties trying to get by. The less you know about me the the better. I could be anyone you need me to be.