Betty, Bill and Richard 26 (The Book) Teen bisex M-M-F July, 2020
My name is Richard. Betty and Bill are my friends.
The summer of our fifteenth year we had done most of what we knew that three people could do with each other two weeks after school was out. The week before Pride we were just trying to rotate between handjobs, oral sex, anal and vaginal while making sure that each of us got off once a day. Other than face painting and listening to stories, Betty had left pride with a dildo harness and an old book of gay sex positions. The Monday after Pride, Betty had used her harness and her dildo to properly fuck Bill and myself.
Tuesday morning after an unusually intense make out session we'd gotten in a triangle and brought each other to orgasm just with our hands, followed with more kissing and then we finally cleaned up, swam for a bit and then dried off.
Betty sat down on the workout pad under the shade, and Bill and I got on either side of it. I'd seen a bit of this book at Pride when Betty had first flipped through it, but now it appeared that all three of us were going to give it a serious look.
As I saw at Pride, it was a hardcover book with about half black and white photos and half text. The guys had more wavy hair and bigger mustaches than guys do now, except of course hockey players. The photos seemed to have a total of about six white guys, two in each frame, and all about 35 years old.
Some of the positions, maybe a quarter, we had already been doing already for awhile or had at least tried.
Another quarter of them would work for just two guys but not the three of us unless one of us was left out. We agreed to try these, but they would never become part of our regular "top hits".
About a quarter were just silly. probably to fill out the book. We thought we'd get sore arms or cramps without getting off.
The remaining quarter was a mix of things we never thought of, some gross and some creative.
One example was "frottage", which I later heard called simply "frot". I'd seen that back at Pride when Betty first showed me the book. A funny part was that since it wasn't technically sex it's probably the one thing that fifteen year-olds could do legally, and here it was one of the last things we heard about. It seemed to leave Betty out. Bill and I could do it with her, but we'd probably climax with her high and dry. Since it was the leasd disgusting thing we hadn't tried, we made plans for Bill and I to show up in old jeans the next morning and try it.
We had never thought about rimming, and when we saw the photo all three of us let out various protests. After that burst of reaction, Betty read the text, which talked about really cleaning your ass first, then having the person doing the deed clean your ass to their satisfaction, and that it was a rare treat to experience and a great gift to present to a lover.
We were quiet for half a minute after Betty read that to us. Finally Bill said, "Not this week. Let me thing about it", and it got put on the back burner.
The next page in the book brought us to one guy peeing on another. This time our protests were so loud that the neighbors probably heard us. Betty read the text, kind of mumbling this time. She didn't see or say anything to make us curious, and none of us commented when she was done.
We finished the book and made out for a bit, took a quick swim and washed ourselves in the outdoor shower. Bill put an inch of his finger in my ass in the name of being playful. He was becoming increasingly bold about putting his finger in my butt without warning. I made a note to be prepared for that in the future, and that I'd have to up my game and do the same to him.
Eventually we got cleaned and dried, even Bill's finger, and went to lunch.
After lunch we made out again and the three of us gave each other lazy handjobs, the second time in one day. Once we were cleaned off, Betty took charge again and told us that we were going to a teen dance at the Advocacy Center. She said that the adult end-of-Pride party had been at a gay bar last Sunday night, and the one for us, with no alcohol, was Friday. I think Bill and I were uncomfortable. I don't think we'd been to a dance outside of wedding receptions, but we couldn't think of any objections.
We agreed to go, then washed the sweat off of ourselves, dried and dressed, and Betty and I headed to our homes. She reminded me to wear old jeans the next morning.
Wednesday morning I showed up in old 501's on what ended up being the hottest day of the summer, or at least it felt like that.
Bill forgot until he saw me. His eyes got big, and he ran inside and came out in some torn fashion jeans a few minutes later. "The washer and drier are empty now!" he said.
Betty was already naked by this point. I had taken my shirt off and kicked aaway my sandals.
The three of us made out as usual, now feeling up my jeans and Bill's for a change as well as Betty's normally naked ass. Betty broke away from us and sat cross-legged to watch, and said, "Go for it, Boys!"
I knew I was hard, and gave Bill's crotch a grab to confirm that was hard, too. For some reason I felt aggressive; normally when I had sex I was worried about myself or somebody else getting hurt. That wasn't on the table today. Our French kissing and body rubbing got rougher for a minute after Betty sat down, then we broke apart.
I layed down on my side near the middle of the workout pad, looking expectantly at Bill. Bill had his bare feet spread out and his hands on his hips, like Peter Pan, and a smile like a confident commander of something, surveying me. He dropped down to his knees, grabbed both of my feet and kissed my right instep. He then moved my legs like he owned me, so that I was flat on my back.
Bill then got down on all fours and crawled between my legs, tongued my belly, then nipples and chin, reached up with a hand behind my head and forcefully kissed me. His mouth opened and so did mine, and there was a whole lot of tongue from both of us. I thought I was feeling aggressive but Bill was a new man and I was really enjoying it.
The point of frottage, per Betty and her book, was for two guys to get off from rubbing their dicks together through the friction of the denim of their jeans. I later learned that you can just rub naked dicks togher, and sometimes a girl is involved and I guess two girls could rub their pussies together through jeans. That morning, while Bill was kissing the hell out of me, I eventually realized that we were already rubbing our dicks together through our jeans. My dick, and I guess Bill's too, was painfully hard and fighting against the fabric, and that denim wasn't giving way, so it was a conflict. The sensation was very different from a handjob, blowjob or any fucking. The fact that it was probably impossible for us to get hurt during this had turned off all of our inhibitions. Bill and I were kissing each other with open mouths, getting what passed for beard stubble on the inside of our lips, running our hands over each other's backs, asses and through our hair. Our toes were even getting into it.
After what only felt like five or so minutes, both of us came at nearly the same time. All of Bill's weight that had been on me now became dead weight. I put my arms around him and gently rolled over so that we were both on our sides. I became aware of a noise behind me and rolled over the other way. Bill rolled over and propped himself up on my shoulder, and the two of us watched Betty, who was furiously masturbating herself, come to a climax.
When she finished, I commented, "For being such a pointless sex positon, that sure was intense!"
There was come dripping on our chests; our underwear and jeans barely held anything.
We stripped and used the outdoor shower to get the juice off of us. Bill dried off a little and took our stuff in. Betty yelled "Use cold water!" after him.
We swam lazily till lunch.
The rest of the week was the three of us going through the sexual things we'd learned over the previous year, trying not to become bored and making sure that each of us got off once a day. We had seen rimming and peeing as sexual activities in the book, which had grossed us out, and we didn't talk about them for the rest of the week, but we couldn't forget them, either.
On Friday, we were going to a dance at the Advocacy Center.