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In this posting, Bernda appears in the narrative but John is the narrator:

Back in the suite, we got in bed and fucked each other repeatedly, without saying a word, warm kisses at expected and unexpected moments and places. When I spent myself in her, she would not let my penis withdraw from her, and used her cunt like fingers, stroking my penis into hardness, renewing our fucking. Again and again and again. I slept, and she fucked me in my sleep. I dreamed, and she fucked me in my dreams.

The woman in my dreams did not look like Bernda; nor was she beautiful, but each part of her was beautiful when examined closely, even her long thick tail, attached to her above her anus, flesh colored, furry to the touch, long enough to drag on the ground when she stood, but muscular enough and limber enough that she could hold it high behind her, straight up at the small of her back, curling into a question mark above her head. I kissed her vagina, and found a tongue in it that kissed back at me, entering my mouth with the dark taste of her interior. When I fucked her, the tongue ran its roughness up and down and all around my shaft, sucking hard, while her tail curled up under her ass and around my scrotum and penis, the tip of the tail bouncing against my anus in the same rhythm as my thrusts.

I came so powerfully it wakened me, Bernda’s face between my legs, one hand circling my penis and scrotum, forefinger in my pubic hair, thumb massaging my scrotum where it joins my body, a finger tapping my anus, cum in her mouth, a smile on her face.

I came again, swooned in and out of the dream, an animal mounting me. I am in a jungle. Her tail grasps my ankle pulling me down into grass. The zebra runs from the lion. I roll from side to side in a puddle unable to avoid its wetness, or free myself from the tail that circles my waist. The zebra is musky with fright, its blood is musky too, flowing from its throat where the lion’s teeth pull and tear its flesh, pull and tear. Her lips on my neck, sucking and pulling on my flesh. She too is musky. I am vulnerable.

Her lust covers my limp body. The zebra sags into forgetfulness, away from the pain of the lion. It is dangerous in the jungle. I am safe here. Drawn to her breasts. I suckle. The milk comes in spurts from both her nipples, the one in my mouth and the one in my hand. It spurts like semen and tastes the same. The zebra’s blood is red on the green grass. Her eyes are brown. I smell her lust, taste her sticky white milk. Her tail insinuates itself into dark places. We are in the jungle. The jungle is in us.

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When you are enjoying two people’s world, one guy comes into and interferes your couple life, what do you think? What attitude would you take? Would you feel scared,boring or angry?
[RIGHT][URL="http://www.bisexualmingle.com/"][IMG]https://bisexualminglelove.files.wordpress.com/2015/01/shutterstock_63698431-1280x960.jpg?w=300&h=225[/IMG][/URL][/RIGHT] Maybe one day you friends share with you they are [URL="http://www.bisexualmingle.com/"]bisexual[/URL], or perhaps your straight friends tell you that their spouse is bisexual or their husband is gay, or one colleague feels boring that their [URL="http://www.bisexualmingle.com/"]bisexual wife [/URL]or [URL="http://www.bisexualmingle.com/"]lesbian girlfriend[/URL] or your Uncle has just come out of the closet and you are wondering about that. It is common that our friends especially the married ones identify more easily someone with a triangle sexual orientation or relationship. Most of triangle bisexuality have mixed orientation marriages and relationships. Bisexual members are often possibly the husbands and wives who attract to live with a gay husband, lesbian wife or bisexual husband or wife. So as to, they mostly welcome and be happy of the third person’s interfering.
[LEFT]In fact that the one we love and are eager to spend the rest of our life with does not absolutely cater to our sexual orientation, In addition,our gender identity may not match exactly the societal expectations. Triangle orientation relationship may bears when one or both of the spouse have mix sexual orientations or gender identities. Possibly, some spouse are just enough to live with his or her opposite sexual spouse and really want to keep further intimate relationship with same gender person. There is also a saying from some bisexuals that what they love is the person but don’t care the gender. In some aspects, it is true that some bisexuals understand or accommodate easily and happily with different and same gender both, which may perhaps easily turn into triangle sexual relationship.[/LEFT] [LEFT][URL="http://www.bisexualmingle.com/"][IMG]https://bisexualminglelove.files.wordpress.com/2015/01/518f396c9bfed.jpg?w=300&h=300[/IMG][/URL]
[/LEFT] There are increasing bisexuals standing out and sharing with their spouse and family how their relations work successfully but also are amazing love-relationship just like everyone else. When one day, suddenly your spouse tells you that she fell in love with a girl or he love with a guy, keep positive attitude to this situation. There is one saying, “Love me, love my dog.” Thus the most important thing is not scared of the triangle relationship, but respect the mix gender orientation, while you are bisexual, you should be honored of bisexual community.

What’s your opinion for bisexual? Are you one of them?
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Many people may feel sick to the relationship for one who either cater for man or woman. However, It is supported that love should be owned by herself or himself. let things will be himself if he or she feel happy with their bisexual friends, In my opinion, being well with each other happily is the most thing, no mather their gender is the same or not.
In my mind, I am happy to make friends with them, even i am not bisexual person. They are unique, special, a little sensitive… all these features attracts me.
[LEFT]If you are one of them, don’t be feel you are lonley or abnormal. Besexual person also the common person, thay also have their own dreams, and their own living style, we should respect and accept these group of sepecial person. We should know them, acknowledge them, and make friends with them.
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[QUOTE=bi42guy1958;279335]A little bio of myself to begin. I'm a DWM 56 yrs. old and have been bisexual since the age of 14 (first expierence). I have learned from my past expierences that when it comes to relationships and my being bisexual that honesty is always the best policy, or thought it was. I've been married 5 times and although not all my marriages ended because of my sexual orientation, the majority of them did. But again, I still believe honesty is best.
So when I met this woman on a dating site(str8 site), we began to email first through the site, then progressed to text and then calling and talking. Everything was going great, we seemed to have a lot of the same interests and so forth, so we decided to meet and have lunch, get to know one another even more, which we set up for the next day. Through the night I got to thinking about things and decided it was best for both of us for me to just severe anything with her. My thoughts included how nice of a woman she was, how she would probably never accept my being bisexual/dressing. So maybe it was best to stop things before a lot more feelings got involved on both sides. I didn't want to mislead and hurt her later on. So I told her my feelings, not giving reasons but just that I had issues. Her response was, "it was her decision" as to whether she wanted to be involved with me given my issues. I pondered that for the night and next day and thought, hey she's right. So I asked if she was still interested and would like to go out and I would tell her everything!
So last night we went out. Oh and not that this makes a difference, but it may to some that have an opinion, she is a black woman. Anyway, as we ate and talked, I started to tell her some of the issues I have in my non sexual life. My biggest ones are depression and how I'm affected by having an only son that is is prison (death row) and how it affects my every day thoughts.
After having dinner we went out to the car when we bagan to talk more and I stated to her that what she has heard so far is not near as bad as what I really needed to tell her. I don't really know how I did it, but it just came out. "I'm bisexual and I like to wear women's attire" I said. I didn't get the "jaw dropping" affect as I thought, but no right out opinion right then either. So I continued with trying to explain things and how I feel about my sexuality.
I started with, it's not an emotional attraction, but sexual. I don't look at a man and say "WOW, I'd like to do him" My attraction to a man is from the waist down to his knees, or really whats in between those points. I don't kiss men, no hugging, or anything that shows affection for a man. After having sex with a man, I feel disqusted with myself, went on to say that after sex I want the man to leave, that I got what I needed. And i know that sounds bad on my part toward the man, but I'm being honest here. But with a woman it is so different. I want the affection, I want and desire the kisses, hugs, cuddling, touching each other in an emoitional sense, both during and after sex. Matter of factly, with a woman it's "making love" not just sex! I want her to be there after, to cuddle, spoon or whatever we feel. I want her there the next morning to wakeup with, maybe even to do it ll over again.
I also told her that if I could sit there and open up and tell her these things about me that I can be open and honest about everything. There are things that she could do to "help" me with these feelings, one being a strapon. Encouragement from her or support would go a long way in helping me curb the thoughts of being with a man. But unfortunetly, there can't be a replacement for the desires I have for performing oral on a guy.
The only thing I can think of that I didn't tell her was that I'm very much in the closet with this part of my life. I don't have a hat that I wear that says "hey I'm bisexual"! But I think that's an important part that I should tell her.
My question is......what else could I have said?[/QUOTE]

Electricity. I use that word a lot to describe that surge that goes through my body. It starts as a tingle from that point of contact, and like the branches of lightning, spreads through the rest of my body.

But it doesn't always spread quickly and with a crack of thunder. Sometimes it's just the low rumble of thunder deep in the clouds, the type that's comforting, that rolls in with a gentle summer storm at night as you drift to sleep. Instead of that hit of electricity that dissipates just as quickly as it came, it's the drop of water in the pond that causes ripples that turns into waves. The waves don't always have to crash to shore, sometimes just rolling in gently is just as satisfying.

It all starts with a touch. Fingertips to skin, lips on lips, no matter where, there's a point of contact. That point seems to be changed forever. I can close my eyes and still feel his kiss, the softness of his lips, my hands in his hair, his hands on my skin. All the energy in my body condenses to that spot, the front of my lips, where his touched mine.

Without consciously thinking about it, I roll my tongue around in my mouth, and I remember the way he tasted. And in that moment, I yearn for it. Not for the sex, not for his skin, not even for his touch, just simply for that look in his eyes and his kiss.

That warmth, that slow rippling electricity, that feeling of fullness in my soul, travels from my lips and over my body, from deep inside, out to my skin. It lands in several spots: down to my toes, along my back where his fingers skipped over my skin, my nipples harden under his phantom licks, to my pussy tightening and releasing under it's own accord.

The orgasm surprises me in a slow creeping way. I relax, my breath deepens, and I enjoy the ride and the memory. I touch nothing, in fact, I cease to exist entirely. I am nothing but a ball of light, getting all of my energy from the memory of his lips.

When I'm restored to a corporeal form, I'm afraid to open my eyes. In my mind, I'm remembering the look in his eyes, that deepness in them, and perhaps the reflection of my own light. Instead, I squint at the florescent lights of my office. When the phone rings, I'm brought back to reality entirely, and I shake off the memory before answering.