Bi All Means

John seemed to agree. He lingered at the soft mounds of flesh on Anna's chest, his large, strong hands cupping them gently, his fingers fondling the tight pinkness of her nipples. She could not help but respond. She had been kissing his neck, breathing seductively into his ear, but now she couldn't help but use her teeth. She nibbled at the flesh of his neck and his earlobe. "Ow!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, sorry," Anna breathed. He pulled away and kissed her firmly, forcing her mouth open with his, penetrating her with his tongue. Then he kissed her ear, nibbling on the lobe here and there. He licked her neck, right beneath the earlobe. Another excellent spot. Anna shivered, and John bit her neck in the same spot. She had a fleeting thought about the hickeys this was going to cause, but immediately decided she didn't care.

As she laid beneath him, enjoying the chills he was sending through her neck, Anna pulled John down on to her, feeling the movements of his muscles through her skin. She was holding his head, his beautiful hair, in one hand, and now she put the other between them. She slid her palm down his chest, the back of her hand pressing against her own. She reached between their legs and felt the bulge of solid flesh between them. She felt him react against her neck as she touched him; he bit her and moaned ever so slightly. Se laughed, then pushed him up off of her. She sat up herself, keeping her hand right over that fleshy bulge, rubbing John through his jeans. She smiled mischievously. This was fun! John touched Anna's hair and put his head back. She unbuttoned his fly, four buttons in all, and pulled his jeans and boxers (navy blue) down. He stood up and kicked off the rest of his clothes, then let her pull his hips towards her. He was hard, and of adequate proportions, or so Anna thought. This was another assumption about her "lesbianism" that people always made. "Come on, Anna," they'd say, "How long has it been since you've given a blow job?"

"Oh, a couple days ago," Anna always said. And she was telling the truth too. It seemed few people who weren't having it really understood how many elements could go into lesbian sex. She'd given plenty of blow jobs to Shane over the two years they were together. Sure, she couldn't feel them in the same sense that John could feel Anna's hand wrap around his hot, engorged dick, but Shane had felt them in some way.

And for that matter, Anna had received quite a few blow jobs herself. In fact, she couldn't help but compare John to her favorite dildo, Champ, from her days with Shane. Champ, if she could recall, had a wider girth than John, but was shorter, and Anna could detect no trace of the blue and black spiral pattern that had decorated Champ on John's skin. In any case, who was measuring bisexuality on the number of blow jobs given? It was amazing to Anna what people would do to categorize each other.

Anna was drawn out of her reverie by a tug on her hair from John. She had been slowly massaging his penis, and she saw that it was harder now than before, that John was lost in the sensation that Anna was providing for him. "Oh, God" John moaned. Anna felt the heat of him in her hand, his desire for her and for the ecstasy that she could give him. She moved closer to him and licked his skin; the crease between his thigh and his public bone. His fingers tightened and she heard him moan again. She licked the length of his penis and then took him in her mouth, running her tongue around the softer head of his dick and then taking as much of him in her mouth as she could. She stroked the base of his penis with her hands and flicked her tongue around the head. She felt him tremble every time she did it.

He had both hands in her hair and was desperate to grip it, though it was a little short for that. He grasped the hair at the nape of her neck as if he was holding himself from falling. Each time she felt a tug, a wave of heat shot through her. She felt the folds of skin between her legs start to react. She felt the slipperiness of her body's desire for John, felt it preparing itself to open to him. She sucked him harder, moving her hands and her head faster around his cock, enjoying every reaction he expressed.

She knew women who said that they fell in love with the person, not the gender, that gender wasn't real anyway and that love transcended sex parts, but for Anna, gender had a hell of a lot to do with it. In this moment, she was excited precisely because she was a woman and John was a man, and she was opening her mouth to take him and he was begging her not to stop. Love perhaps was another thing, but even then, whether she was in love with a woman or a man, or a woman who looked like a man, or a man who looked like a woman, these things all made a difference to Anna. They effected the very nature of the relationship, the interactions and the way in which Anna understood her attractions. Did this make her a bad bisexual, she thought? Leave it to bisexuals to discriminate against their own kind, only after the heteros and the lesbians were done with them.

Anna also knew women who considered the terms 'bisexual' and 'lesbian' as pointless epithets. "You're only gay for 10 minutes a day," Afke had always said, "And that's if you're lucky." But didn't it mean more than that? She supposed to some people it didn't. Bisexual could be a term that just meant having sex with men and women. But for Anna, it meant that she was able tolove men or women, or perhaps anything else that came her way. It meant that whether or not they did come her way, her propensity to love them, to fuck them, to be with them, was always there.

Marie had told her that she didn't consider herself "truly bi" until she had finally had sex with another woman. She had been falling in love with them since grade school, but she needed the physical evidence to feel comfortable calling herself bisexual. Anna understood what it was, to need a physical manifestation of her desire, what else was she doing here with John? But at the same time she felt totally entitled to the identity, no matter what she did. Who's business was it, anyway, to tell her what qualifications she needed to call herself what she wanted to.

It was overwhelming sometimes, how many ways someone could live out the terms they went by. So many ways to be a lesbian or a faggot, maybe even more ways to be bi; to the point that Anna didn't even know what it meant anymore when someone introduced themselves as bisexual. "I'm bi," said the high school cheerleader who made out with the other chicks on the squad to impress the football players. "I'm bisexual," said the hard-core women's studies feminist who surely hadn't had a conversation with a man, much less sex with one in 15 years. "I'm bi, too," said the swinger who hooked up with her boyfriend and a variety of women on a regular basis. It was a frustrating phenomenon, but at the same time filled Anna with a feeling of safety. She might not be able to pin anyone else down, but she didn't feel pinned down herself. She could float around the open-air of her identity like a feather escaping from a pillow and drifting over the bed sheets. If she found a comfortable spot, she could let herself waft down and snuggle in with her feather friends on the duvet, warm and comfortable.

Anna's jaw was getting tired, and she could feel that John wasn't going to last much longer the way she was going. It was beautiful, really, how their bodies communicated with each other. The speed of her tongue, the pressure of his fingertips, the texture of his cock in her mouth; everything explained to the lovers what was happening, and what should happen next.

Anna pulled away, massaging her jaw as she did. John looked down at her and smiled. "Ow," Anna said.

John laughed, "I guess it's my turn to apologize," he said. He bent down and kissed her, then picked her up from the couch. "I'm in need of a little scenery change," he said. "What about you?"

"This is a change of scenery for me," she chuckled as he carried her over to his bed, pulled back the grey comforter and laid her down on the white sheets.

"And do you like what you see?" he asked. She pulled him down on the bed and rolled on top of him.

"It's splendid," she replied dramatically, and kissed him. He moved his hand between her legs and pushed aside her underwear. Her skin was warm, almost hot, and wet. His fingers slipped between her lips easily, and as he ran his finger over her clit, she shuddered with passion.

"Well you appear to be enjoying yourself," he whispered, laughter in his voice. She gave him a look that saidDo what I want or I will hurt you, and kissed him again. He laughed, but he did what she wanted. His fingers slipped over her clit once and again. She was surprised at how talented he was. He ran circles around the tight knot of flesh, then ran his thumb directly over it. He played with different speeds and pressures until he had her gripping the pillow beneath his head, her face hidden in his chest. He slid his fingers back, letting them explore all her crevices, edging closer to penetration.

"Please," she whispered. She was shaking. The combination of holding herself above him and the exhaustion of feeling him touch her was draining her energy.

"Please what?" he asked, toying with her. She rocked her hips into his hands, trying to push his fingers inside her, but he moved along with her, sliding his hands over her, never allowing her to feel the full pressure of his touch.

"Damn it," she growled in frustration, but she bent down so her lips brushed his ear and whispered, "Come inside me." He thrust into her swiftly, making her take a rough breath as he did. She sat up and thrust her body down on top of him, pushing his fingers inside of her. She reached behind her and wrapped her hand around his dick, which was so hard she thought she felt it throbbing. She was not the only one who wanted more. She took the moment to toy back, as John had toyed with her. She pressed his fingers deep inside her with her hips, and stroked his cock slowly, methodically, speeding up only for short seconds.

"Anna," he sighed, "God, I want you." She pulled herself up, moving away from his hand. She bent over and kissed him.

"Then take me," she said. She sat up again, and he pulled off her underwear, one leg at a time, and threw them on the floor. He sat up against the headboard and reached into his nightstand for a condom. She took it from him and he took her hips in his hands. She bent over to kiss him, rolling the latex onto his penis as she did. He pushed her down onto him, and they shuddered together as he entered her slowly, forcing her open to take him. Her body relaxed and she took him easily. She put all her weight on him, and took all of him inside her.

They let out a sigh, and she took comfort in the idea that as she felt him, he was feeling her too. He lifted her from the hips and then brought her down again. They fucked slowly like that until neither of them could stand it any longer. Then he rolled her over and took her legs over his shoulders. He thrust into her faster then, and she pushed against the headboard with each thrust, trying to intensify the effects of his penetration.

When he quickened his pace, she could tell he was close, so she let go of the headboard and touched herself as he fucked her. Her clit was totally stimulated now, a hard red marble above the spot where she and John were melting together. She could touch it directly without it hurting her, the sensation inside her was so strong. She rubbed herself to the rhythm of John's movements, and she felt her whole body start to tingle and shake from the ecstasy of it. John noticed her helping out and reached between her legs to touch her. He slowed down as he stroked her clit, watching her face for her reaction. He kissed her forehead, "is this ok?" he asked. She laughed amid the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body, but she felt bad when she saw the look of utter concentration on his face.

"Amazing," she said, kissing him back. Then she put her arms around hid back and pulled him deeper inside her. "Faster," she whispered, and he responded, his torso shaking visibly under her fingers as she guided him into her again and again.

John was coming, his body stiffened as he pressed himself into her. This wasn't something she was accustomed to, having someone come inside her, but feeling him getting off sent another wave of heat through her body, and she came. Her body pulsated hotly, and she felt the tingling from between her legs spread throughout her body until even her lips and the tips of her toes were tingling. She let the feeling flow its way through her body. Her eyes closed, she imagined hot red waves flowing over her skin, utter satisfaction following in their wake.

John pulled out and rolled next to her. They shared the bed, each in their own thoughts, enjoying the afterglow. Anna was surprised at how simple it was. She expected that the first time she had sex with a man would be a stunning, life-changing experience. Or at least would be significantly different than the times she's had sex with women. She turned and looked at John. "Want to know a secret," she asked.

"That was my first time," she laughed out loud.

John went to the bathroom to clean up and then to the kitchen to make some sandwiches. Anna lay back in bed and wondered at how it was she got here. It was a woman she came to Holland with, and a man who had instigated her first kiss with a woman. She had met John at the party of a mutual friend whom Anna had known because of her interest in S/M, where she'd also met Marie.

She was suddenly struck by the path that her life had taken, the minute twists and turns, the way her memory could amplify even the smallest moment of a single day, and the fact that her life already held millions of those miniscule moments. It was this, she thought, the memories, the experiences, the constant monologue that commentated goings on inside her head, that made the richness of her life. She felt full, as full as she had ever been, with all the things she had done and the million more she hadn't. She put her head back against the soft whiteness of the pillow and let out a sigh. Then she let her thoughts slip away and enjoyed a midnight, after sex snack in the bed of a man she'd only known for a few hours, but whom had undoubtedly effected her life in some beautiful, unexpected, unalterable way.