The title says it all in this edgy seven-story anthology from the keyboard of habu. These are tales of men enjoying sex with other men as well as with women and doing it in twosomes and threesomes.
In the house of bisexual stories, the room of man and man and woman is one many want to enter. And if it interests you and you want to explore what that means and the pleasure that it can bring to two men and a woman, this is the anthology for you.
In “7:48 P.M. Wednesday,” two men are dancing around their own relationship when a cougar comes into the picture. In “Anniversary at Big Dick’s,” a husband treats his wife to what she’d enjoyed before marrying him—coupling with a big black bull—and decides to join in that game himself. A cougar is also preying on young men on a Bermuda cruise in “Bermuda Run.” “Camouflage” showcases pretense, chicanery, and camouflage all for the sake of art. Newlyweds take no time entering the world of swingers in “New Year Gala Indeed.” “Spat in St. John” is another sea cruise story in which a cruise-line gigolo brings a couple back together in shared sex, and an experienced man breaches his would-be lover’s fears of completed sex with the help of a woman surrogate in “Surrogate Loving.”
From “Bermuda Run”:
It hadn’t been by accident that I had booked the cruise to Bermuda for the college spring break period. I liked my produce fresh.
I was up on the pool deck late in the morning, as soon as the temperature was high enough to bring out the swimmers. As I had hoped, the pool had been nearly taken over by the college students. I was feeling sleek and purry after the night with Cord, with whom I had scheduled a repeat visit for tonight. A hundred dollars for a hunk like that—for three fucks—was a steal when compared to rent-boy prices in Philadelphia, although the sons of family acquaintances went for nothing and often were surprisingly entertaining. I was surprised I wasn’t stiff. It had been six months, and on the last cruise, since I had gotten such a workout from my Venezuelan room steward. Every young man I’d been with in the interim fell short of the talent I found on the cruise ships.
I moved three times around the pool before I found the perfect spot. I saw the two young men when they left their lounge beds and dove into the pool. Both very young, divinely built, and with smooth, supple skin to rival a baby’s. Both were wearing skimpy Speedos, by which they each showed the promise of satisfying my requirements. One was the mandatory Nordic blond with curly hair and blue eyes to become lost in. The other was darker, perhaps more than a touch of the Mediterranean, and mysterious looking. The emphasis was on the young and impressionable, though. In one of my turns around the deck I’d heard them mention their college and that this was their second year, so, despite appearances, there wouldn’t be any risks on the age front.
They also struck me in another way that I had trouble isolating. I finally decided that it was the way in which they interacted with each other. Either they were close friends or intimate friends, I decided, and, rather than putting me off, I took this as a challenge.
When they had left to dive into the pool, I took a lounge bed directly across from theirs and posed myself in a way that would attract any red-blooded young American boy. If they still had eyes only for each other, I reasoned, they were too far gone. If they had wide-ranging interests, the day might prove to be quite rewarding, I thought—correctly, as it turned out.
After they had returned, chatting to each other, and rubbing themselves off with towels, they got around to being attracted to me. I smiled at them over the edge of the Nora Roberts novel I was reading, and they smiled back, shyly at first but then more boldly. They whispered between themselves as they sat on their pool beds and looked around at all the luscious young people waltzing by in nearly the altogether, the college men being boisterous and playfully knocking each other about as they moved.
Although these two young men were looking appreciatively at the bodies of the young men going by, they were giving as much attention to the college girls—and even to older, well-shaped women. I saw this as a good sign.