Article 106103 of alt.sex.stories:
From: curjim@usa.pipeline.com(Curjim)
Subject: BI-BI (MM, bi)
Date: 10 Nov 1995 04:40:03 GMT

				Bi-Bi

	Doug was my best buddy, and had been ever since the early days
or our military training together in Texas, more than ten years
before. He has always been a real looker, and I admit I had many a
fist-fuck fantasy over him through the years, but never got brave
enough to suggest anything at all.

	We did everything together. When we "graduated" from Lackland
AFB, we did it together. When we went to our first assignment, we were
lucky enough to go to the same base in Colorado.

	When he re-upped, I followed suit. When he bought a
motorcycle, I did him one better and got a car. When I got engaged to
the girl back home,he did me one better and married his girl.

	Less than two years later, when he just got divorced, I opened
my small but comfortable one-bedroom apartment to him, no questions
asked. The thought of lying in my bed next to him was exhilarating for
me.

	He moped around for a few days, but seemed to be handling
things fairly well. Or so I thought. I kept to my side of the bed and
just fought off the urge to touch his body.

	But Doug was hurt by the divorce action. His wife had just
decided that she wanted to be single again. I don't think there was
another man - she just got fed up with married life, she said.

	I came home from work one night to find Doug on the couch, his
head cradled in his hands. He tried to hide the fact that he had been
crying. My best friend in the world was agonizing inside. It brought
tears to my eyes and anger to my spirit.

	"Wanta talk about it, pal?" I asked, taking a place next to
him on the couch and looking straight at him. He looked into my eyes.
The soft light of the lamp near the couch spread a subdued yellow
light across Doug's wide, muscled, and hair-covered chest. He looked
tired and, somehow, vulnerable... almost a little-boyish in his pain.
"Naw... " he finally said.


	I just sat still, looking at him. His black hair was tousled,
and he was chewing at a hangnail. His broad shoulders were relaxed
against one of the couch pillows, but his chest was heaving with the
deep intakes of breath caused by his inner sobs. The tears had
stopped, but the pale blue eyes were circled by redness. He tried to
smile, but could do no more than look away.

	Without a second thought, I reached out and touched his thigh
and caressed him gently. I hurt inside for him, and he knew it.

	No sooner had I laid my hand across his thigh than he was just
swept up into my embrace. His strong arms encircled me, and I felt his
firm body tremble against me.

	I pushed back against his chest, looked into his face, and
then folded him into my arms. His head lay against my shoulders. Only
the sound of his soft breathing filled the evening air. Over and over,
my hands slowly ran over the full length of his back, until I could
fell him calming. It was a rather intimate time of silent sharing...
at least, for me.

	We sat like that for what seemed like hours, and then Doug
slept. The moon had crept across the living room window when I turned
the lamp off. Doug stirred, wiped his mouth for a moment, and half-
smiled at me; then he stretched out ont he couch, his head in my lap.
Felling almost fatherly, I pushed a lock of hair back from his
forehead and held him close to my belly.

	I laid one hand on his lower chest and tried to lie back and
sleep - to no avail. The moolight spread a thin sheet of light across
that Adonis-like chest, emphasizing the well-chiseled stomach muscles
I had often admired. Doug had always kept up a regimed of body-
building, and even at thirty-four, he was all man and a yard wide, as
we used to say in the service.

	As he slept, my eyes found an almost perverted pleasure in
sweeping over his upper torso, where the thick hair of his chest swam
into tight ringlets at his naval, then meandered downward into the
crotch of his blue jeans. I pushed the coarse, dark curls. As I
touched him, he stirred slightly, then turned his head toward me, and
the warmth of his breath against my stomach was somewhat disquieting.

	While my fingers toyed with his hair, the other had began to
make a slow, but deliberate, journey downward. His flesh was warm and
firm. My eyes scanned the bulging arm muscles, and even though his
body was relaxed, he looked like something out of the muscle-builder
magazines. Moving my hand back up, I let a finger gently circle one
flat, pinkish-brown nipple. I did not realize it, but when fondled, a
man's nipples harden just like a woman's. Or at least Doug's did.

	He licked his lips and nudged his face closer to my belly. I
felt a stirring in my loins as his head moved slowly against my cock.
I was shaken a little to realize that Doug's presence was making me
have feelings I had never experienced before with anyone other than my
fiancee.

	As he found himself a new place in my lap, I flattened my hand
over the washboard stomach muscles and pushed downward. My fingers
inserted themselves comfortably within the waistband of his jeans,
until I could feel the thickening of hair. I moved my hand gently,
slowly, from side to side, feeling the flat, hard stomach and allowing
my cock to begin to stiffen just beneath Doug's head.

	I suddenly thought of getting up, stopping what I was feeling.
But Doug's massive, sweaty, moonlit chest was slowly rising and
falling, and the truth was, I was enjoying the sight - and feel - of
the man. I didn't understand it, but I felt a desire growing in my
guts.

	I looked down into his face. We had been friends for - what? -
eleven years. I had never given a lot of thought to how handsome he
was until that moment. Oh, I knew the girls always fell over him
everywhere we went, but...

	Even while he was asleep, his features were alive, almost
electric. Strong cheekbones gave way to a wide, well-defined mouth and
that dimpled chin that he so often bragged on. He had not shaven in a
day or so, and his five o'clock shadow was in evidence - dark and
prickly, it made him look rugged and almost sinister. I suppose the
real word for the look was "sensual," and I was feeling every bit of
it.

	His eyes were closed. Wantonly, I pushed my hand deeper into
the jeans until I could feel the swollen mound of his cockshaft. I
closed my own eyes and waited. Was he still sleeping? Was he feighing
sleep? More importantly, would he awaken and be angry at my obvious
lustfull curiosity?


	With two fingers, I rubbed over the portion of the shaft that
I could reach, carefully petting the thick, warm flesh. My mind was
denying that this was happening, but my prick was already erect and
pushing against the nape of Doug's neck. I prayed he could not feel
the throbbing motions that I was desperately trying to control.

	He took a deep breath, and his ribcage suddenly gave a taut
definition to his upper torso. He stirred as my trembling fingers
quickly moved back to his navel for a moment. I was embarrassed.

	I looked down at him. His eyes met mine. There was an
intensity in them, a knowing. I tried to apologize, to tell him I was
sorry for making such a move. The words were awkward.

	I felt his hand close over mine, and he spike softly: "It's
all right, Chet... it's really all right... friend... "

	I watched as his hand deliberately guided mine back down to
the waistline of his jeans. I spread my fingers out again over firm
flesh and, holding my breath, waited.

	Doug unsnapped the small silver button at the waistband, and
the zipper immediately slid halfway down. With both hands, he grasped
the waistband and slowly pulled the zipper apart. The zipper slipped
all the way down. His soft moan told me he was enjoying my touch. My
eyes riveted on the thick mass of hair just at my fingertips, then
worshipped at the shrine of the thickening shaft that had buried its
head in the blue jeans as if it were shy.

	I felt Doug's teeth nip at my stomach through my shirt, and
looked down to realize that he was snuggling against my thighs. I
could feel the pressure of his cheek against the full length of my
erect prick as it inched down the inside of my own pants. He was
actually running his lips along my swollen cock!

	I slid my fingers along either side of the growing shaft in
Doug's pants, and lifted. The rubbery shaft slowly moved back toward
the crotch opening of the jeans. My breath caught as I got my first
real glimpse of the massive head of Doug's cock. A dark, pinkish-
purple lemon with a wide, gaping eye winked at me, a dew drop
glistening in the single crevice.

	Nervously, I laced my fingers around the spongy shaft and
stroked it downward, watching as the head engorged and thickened. The
moonlight seemed to welcome the pulsing, giant plum, and bathed it
softly with glistening, handsome, hard smoothness.

	Suddenly, Doug's hand was again on mine, this time to squeeze
and begin a stroking motion. He wanted me to masturbate him, and I
willingly followed suit, moving the loose skin up and down the Coke-
bottle-sized cockshaft. The foreskin was so loose that it would almost
cover up the head on each upward stroke, then reveal that plum, wide
and moist, on each downward stroke. I was aware that my tougue was
circling my dry lips.

	His strong thighs began to rise slightly, and he nudged
against my hand. His belly began heaving more quickly, and his
breathing became broken and fast. He had turned his head almost
downward in my lap, and I could feel his teeth raking the top side of
my swollen prick. His breath was hot against my pants.

	Leaning over his body and positioning my thighs in such a
manner as to allow him access to me, I groped into his jeans. As I
dipped my hand downward into his jeans and pulled his hairy balls into
view, I felt my belt buckle give way, and knew Doug was experiencing
all the inner feelings that I was feeling. I felt his hand run slowly
under my shirt, and closed my eyes as he gently kneaded a hard nipple
between two fingers.

	His balls were soft and larger than I had envisioned. The
massive cock which lay back against his belly, the head tipping his
navel, was exciting to behold. The sac filled my trembling hand and
slipped gingerly between my fingers as I slowly, carefullly kneaded
the dual globes inside.

	A voice seemed to come out of the dim light of the room. A
voice which seemed faraway and foreign at first, echoed across the
room: "God, Chet... I need you... I want you... please... "

	It was Doug.

	His hoarse, gravelly whisper vibrated against my groin as he
found the flesh of my stomach and nuzzled his face downward into my
crotch. Doug unzipped my pants and tugged at my cock until it slipped
into his view. He sighed deeply, closed is eyes...

	Yes. I wanted him, too. I had never dreamed of such a thing in
my life. This was not naivete; gay sex was just not something which
was - or had ever been - a part of my lifestyle.

	As I leaned downward, feeling Doug's pubic hair caressing my
lower lips, I thought of Sandy. What would she think? What would she
do? I had been every inch the macho man, according to her. She would
often tell her friends that I was "all man and a yard wide." It had
made me proud to hear her talk about me that way.

	And now...

	The man-smell of Doug's body was intoxicating for some reason,
drawing me in closer. I wanted - needed - to please him, to help
him... to satisfy his need... and mine.

	I closed my eyes, then opted to keep them open. My eager lips
spread wide to accept the pulsing cockhead in my grip. Before
accepting the ultimate, I let my eyes take in the fullness of the
shaft, and marveled at the throbbing that pulsed blood to sustain the
growing firmness in my hand.

	I kept thinking of Sandy... My mind was awhirl.

	Doug... God, he was so much a man. And he was hurting inside.

	I felt a warm wetness envelop my own swollen prick, and
relaxed in the awesome knowledge that Doug and I were giving one
another pleasure and release.

	God, Sandy... I can't stop... not now... maybe not ever.

	It was happening. I was suddenly hungry for him. I wanted all
of him. I wanted to feel him within me... to know my closest friend as
I had never known him, or anyone.

	As my mouth received the thick, heavy cockhead, I became lost
in all that we were feeling. Taking inch after inch along my tongue, I
did close my eyes in the awesomeness of it all. The feeling of Doug's
cock in my mouth was wonderous... exciting.

	I pushed my cock deeper into my best friend's throat and heard
him, felt him moan. Meanwhile, I worked my way down the enlarging meat
between his spread legs, and the clean aroma of manhood met my
nostrils. My tongue felt the engorged vein on the underside of his
cock as it slid along my tongue over and over.

	I had never felt so intense in my entire life.

	We made love.

	This was not just some kind of a clandestine sexual romp never
to be spoken of or repeated. This moment we shared was the natural-
somehow-culmination of a sustained love between two males. I wanted
Doug every bit as much as I had ever wanted Sandy... maybe even more.
I wanted to satisfy him, to fulfill him even as I was being fulfilled
by possessing this deeply intimate part of him.

	Later, when we both had found satisfaction, we went to bed...
together. We held one another far into the night, touched one another,
admired one another as never before.

	I was glad to be the first to awaken the next morning. I lay
beside Doug and marveled at what we had done. The rising sun bathed
his naked body in its light, and my eyes were filled with the sensual
wonder of the man. He was beautiful in every way... inside and out.

	When he awoke, we held one another for a long time. Then I
sucked him off again - slowly, lovingly he gave me every thick inch
again.

	Doug and I share the apartment now - and we share a bed. He
says he doesn't want his wife back now. Sandy doesn't know about our
escapades, but she may have to be told, because I don't plan on a
wedding anytime soon.