Bisexuality is a “have your cake and eat it too” sex is sex is sex celebration of and liberation toward full sensuality. Some say we are essentially all bisexual, focusing on the pleasure of personal arousal and completion, but that society has insisted we choose either straight, if we’re sensible, or homosexual, if we are weak. This anthology lets out all of the sensuality stops, providing six male-perspective stories of bisexual pleasure—or torment—depending on the theme of the story and the perspective of the reader.
Reader interest in stories of this underserved genre tends to split on whether it is told from a male or female perspective. These six stories are given from the man’s view and appetites. In another split, interest is generated in whether the pleasures (or trials) are taken sequentially—sex with one gender and then, separately, sex with the other—or, as a mixed-gender group. The reader can find both in this anthology. The male protagonist of “Leaf Raking Plus” values his different-sex partners equally and lies with them separately. The characters in the other stories take their pleasures every which way.
From “Tanglewood Entanglements”
The jab about the explosive response Jacob and I had had when we first sang the “Pearl Fishers Duet” together two years earlier in Atlanta struck home with me. We’d sung it at Georgia Tech University in Atlanta, Georgia, and had both been given rooms at the nearby Crowne Plaza Midtown Hotel. The duet is an inspiring, intense, sensual merging of the singer’s voices. Jacob, a sexy, dark, sensual young man of my age, who trained and worked mainly with the Israeli Symphony, was as taken with the music—and with me—as I was with him. We didn’t use both of our rooms at the Crowne Plaza. We merged our bodies, weaving our desires and lusts back and forth in the hotel—and on the bed, alternating between his room and mine, each time—after an exhilarating performance. We were equals, trading topping and being submissive, eking every ounce of pleasure out of each other, both exhausting and satiating each other.
I hadn’t had sex with many men at that time—not any more men than I’d had sex with women. Sex to me was a release, an attraction, not gender controlled. To me sex was sex was sex, appropriate with whomever was celebrating with me at the time and who aroused me. The Georgia Tech performance of the “Pearl Fishers Duet” had been a triumph, no less because it revealed an attraction between us. It was worthy of celebration.