You can have it both ways!

It is now almost universally accepted that everyone is born bi-sexual. Normally, definite heterosexual or homosexual characteristics develop at puberty and may well be decided by environment rather than instinct.

There are, however, a number of individuals, both male and female, who never progress beyond the bi-sexual stage, whether they are aware of it or not. A man or woman who has failed to realise his or her bi-sexual nature invariably experiences a severe shock when faced with the truth.

This did not happen in the case of Sylvia, however. Now 25, single and attractive, she has this to say:

I discovered I was bi-sexual when I was 16 and I accepted it as perfectly normal and natural. In fact, it seemed a good thing to be able to enjoy sex with a boy or a girl. Let me tell you how I realised my true sexual nature.

Kathy and I grew up together and, when we reached adolescence, we shared our most intimate secrets concerning our developing bodies. We had always been very close and it seemed quite natural that our sexual discussions should lead to kisses and, eventually, to more intimate caresses. How well I remember the night our friendship blossomed into a full-blooded lesbian relationship.

My parents were away from home and I had been invited to stay at Kathy's for a week, sharing her room. I was conscious of a mounting excitement as we undressed that first night. When we were both naked, Kathy stood very close to me.

'You have a lovely body, Sylvia,' she smiled.

'You like me a lot, don't you, Kathy?'

'I love you!'

Next moment, her smooth arms were around me, pulling me close, crushing my young immature breasts against hers. She thrust her flat belly hard against mine.

My lips responded to the touch of hers; parted to allow her tongue to play tag with mine. I thrilled as her exploring hands stroked my buttocks, found the cleft; probed gently. When she whispered — 'Let's get into bed' — I agreed eagerly.

Kathy covered my lips, my throat, my shoulders, my breasts with warm sensual kisses while her hand slid seductively between my thighs. I gasped with sheer pleasure when her sensitive fingers parted the dew-drenched lips of my vagina and stroked my clitoris into throbbing life.

My hand sought and found her pussy and I thrilled when my eager fingers entered its soft moist warmth. As we stroked and caressed each other into a frenzy of passion, our sighs and moans filled the little room.

We passed the point of no return, our young bodies responding vigorously to our fluttering fingers. Kathy gave a choking gasp and her thighs closed tightly over my hand when she started to come. Her fingers pressed sharply into my clitoris and I shuddered violently as my orgasm possessed my writhing body.

That was a wonderful seven days — nights, I should say. We explored our new intimate relationship with eager excitement; giving and taking our full measure of sensual pleasure; using our bodies instinctively to thrill and satisfy each other.

I left school at 16 to start a business training course. Kathy stayed on to take her A levels. We didn't see quite so much of each other although we managed to spend at least one night a week in bed together, using any excuse to stay at one another's homes. Kathy and I were so happy together that boys seemed superfluous. Until I met Michael . . .

The first time I saw him, I was conscious of something stirring within me; something different; something new. Every time I caught sight of his tall sturdy figure striding ahead of me to the bus stop I was aware of that strange fluttering feeling.

The morning he spoke to me and I looked up into those sparkling blue eyes, I went weak at the knees and my voice trembled when I answered him. I carried the memory of our brief encounter around with me all day.

When he finally got around to asking me for a date, I pretended to hesitate although I'd already made up my mind that I wanted to know this ruggedly handsome boy. His first kiss made me eager for more. I snuggled closer to him, pressing my breasts hard against his broad chest.

I couldn't help comparing him with Kathy. His lips were harder, more demanding; his tongue stronger, probing deeper; his arms tougher, holding me tighter. But I liked it! We went no further than deep kissing that first night, but I knew I was willing to do anything Michael wanted.

Inevitably, our petting sessions became heavier. It was strangely exciting to feel his strong work-roughened hands stroking the smooth skin of my breasts, pinching the nipples between finger and thumb. When he put his hand on my knee, I was surprised at the hesitancy he showed in sliding it up my thigh.

I lay back in his arms and parted my legs encouragingly. As his hand closed over my pussy, he gave a deep sigh and kissed me passionately. I enjoyed the sensation of his cool tongue exploring my mouth while his fingers discovered my clitoris, but I was disappointed when he made no attempt to remove my panties.

Michael was 20; a man. I was only 16. Perhaps he thought I was too young. I had to admire his self-control, but I intended to see that he lost it.

I groped in his lap until I found the throbbing bulge, but his trousers were very tight and I couldn't feel him properly. 'Oh, Michael!' I whispered seductively as I unzipped him slowly. He eased up his slim buttocks to let me slip his trousers and jockey-shorts down over his muscular thighs.

This time, my searching hand closed around a rock-hard rod of warm flesh. Michael caught his breath sharply as I investigated its length and girth. I gasped, too, as I realised his marvellous size, but I knew beyond all doubt that I wanted to feel that magnificent penis inside my avid body. Swiftly, I shed my tights and panties and sat astride him, my lower lips lubricated with lust.

'Just a minute!' said Michael tensely. He started fiddling about and I wondered what he was doing.

'OK now!' he whispered hoarsely.

When I grasped him once again, his proud penis was snugly clad in a rubber sheath. He was a very thoughtful boy and he proved it further by asking, 'Are you a virgin?'

I thought fast. Although Kathy's thrusting fingers had taken care of my hymen a long time ago, I'd never had a man, so I supposed I was, technically. 'Yes!' I said.

'I'll be gentle with you,' he promised, gripping my buttocks lightly with his strong hands as I guided his super shaft into my throbbing vagina. Its great girth stretched me to the limit. My sobbing gasps convinced Michael of my virginity.

Discomfort mingled with pleasure as I lowered my trembling body lower and lower until, at last, every inch of his firm flesh was engulfed. I sat still for a long time, savouring my first bodily union with a man, my lips hard against his, my tongue buried deep in the wet warmth of his mouth.

When I started to move slowly up and down, the sensation induced by that proud pillar penetrating deeply into my body aroused my passion with startling swiftness. The fury of my onslaught awoke an answering passion in Michael and he began to match me, thrust for thrust.

Then the final frenzy of short sharp strokes and Michael's tortured penis leapt wildly inside me as he pumped his sperm safely into the sheltering sheath. 'Aaahhh! Michael!' I cried and abandoned myself to the spasms of my orgasm, my vagina throb-throb-throbbing against his deeply imprisoned penis.

I relived that wonderful experience over and over in my mind all the next day. But — a sobering thought — did this mean the end of my affair with Kathy?

When I slipped into her arms that night I knew the answer. My love for her was as strong as ever. The touch of her lips, her hands, her firm breasts, her succulent pussy, thrilled me as never before. Did this mean, then, that my feelings for Michael were transitory?

As soon as I felt his wonderful rod of love enter me, the ardent response of my body to its piston-thrusts resolved that question for me. I loved him, too! When I was able to go straight from Kathy's arms into Michael's loving embrace, enjoying both forms of love-making equally, I was completely convinced of my bi-sexuality.

All went well until Kathy found out about Michael. Being a true lesbian, she was horrified that I should be having sex with a boy. She was so bitchy about it that, regretfully, I ended my affair with her. Eventually, Michael and I cooled off towards each other and parted by mutual consent with no hard feelings.

I've had quite a few love affairs since then with men and women — but never both at the same time — finding both equally thrilling and fulfilling. In fact, I feel that my sex-life would be incomplete if I weren't capable of enjoying love with members of both sexes.

Unlike Sylvia, Ellen was totally unaware of her bi-sexual nature until she had four years of happy marriage behind her. She tells how the truth was revealed to her:

It never occurred to me that I might be capable of enjoying sexual relations with both men and girls. I went through all the usual agonies of puppy-love; crushes on older men; my first steady boy-friend; but I never felt sexually excited by another girl — not then.

Tom and I were married when I was 19 and he was 23. Right from the start, I loved the sex bit. Tom was experienced and I was glad of it because he helped me through my initial shyness with tact and understanding. Our sex-life soon became sensually satisfying; complete. I was amazed when I found myself responding sexually to a young girl.

It might never have happened if Tom hadn't changed his job for a better paid post involving shift work. I was nervous about sleeping alone in the house when he was working nights. That was where Yvonne came in.

She was the new junior in the accountant's office where I worked as a typist. A pretty little thing of 17 with long auburn hair and green eyes, she seemed to take an instant liking to me and, despite the difference in our ages, we became close friends.

When I confided my fears to her, Yvonne offered to stay with me when Tom was on night-shift and I accepted gladly. We only had one bedroom and I offered to make up a bed for her in the living room, but she opted to share my bed. Secretly, I was rather pleased; it would be comforting to have someone close to me if I heard any mysterious noises in the night.

I felt a little shy undressing in front of Yvonne, but she seemed to have no such inhibitions. She stripped swiftly and stood poised in the middle of the room, her cascade of auburn hair contrasting starkly with the milky whiteness of her smooth skin.

'Do you like me, Ellen?' she asked softly.

'You — you're a lovely girl,' I stammered, feeling the colour rise in my cheeks.

'I think you're beautiful, Ellen. Please let me see your body.'

I undid my bra clasps in a kind of daze. As my breasts fell free, Yvonne gave a deep sigh and moved towards me. She gazed at me with deep longing for a moment before reaching out to cup my breasts in her soft young hands. Immediately, my nipples hardened into pulsating points of desire.

Why am I letting this happen? — I wondered. I felt I ought to put a stop to Yvonne's advances before things went any further. Instead, I put my arms round her slim young body and pulled her to me, stroking her silky hair while she covered my heaving breasts with kisses.

When her gentle fingers tugged at my panties, I let her peel them down my quivering thighs without protest. I moaned softly when her inquisitive hand slid between my legs and discovered my moistly throbbing vagina. The tender touch of her fingers on my clitoris aroused me to a passion which swept aside all doubts. 'Let's go to bed, darling,' I whispered huskily.

We lay together, our ardent bodies writhing, thrusting, gyrating; until the blending of our clits composed an erotic rhapsody. Our moans became deep-throated cries of lustful passion as we threshed our way wildly to a colossal climax.

'Ohhh! Ellen!' sighed Yvonne. 'I've wanted to do that since the first moment I saw you.'

'Have you, really?'

'Oh, yes! Didn't you feel anything for me?'

'I've always liked you, Yvonne, but I didn't think I could feel like this.'

'You enjoyed it, then?'

'It was lovely, darling.'

We slept fitfully that night; waking continually to renew the sensual pleasure we found in each other's bodies.

Next day was punctuated by secret smiles, fleeting touches, unspoken thoughts of the delights the night would bring. And such delights they proved to be . . .

Yvonne begged me to let her "worship" me. When I asked her what she meant, she said — 'I'll show you' — and made me lie on the bed with my thighs spread wide. Then she crouched between them and gazed adoringly at my vagina. Slowly, inch by inch, she brought her lovely face closer to the fountain-head of my sex.

When her lips made contact, a ripple of carnal delight washed over me and, when her provocative pointed tongue slid deep into my vagina, the ripple became an engulfing wave. I let myself be carried along on the raging tide of passion unleashed by Yvonne's tantalising tongue until, with a wild animal cry, I arched my body violently upwards and I was coming, coming, coming.

In the calm that followed my erotic storm, I nuzzled Yvonne's groin and she opened her thighs to reveal her pretty little pussy. I savoured its slippery smoothness with my lips, explored its moist depths with my tongue; caressed her firm round buttocks with lust-inspired hands.

Her belly muscles rippled in unison with the probing of my tongue, her pointed breasts rose and fell in time with every panting breath, quicker and quicker until — 'Oh, Ellen! ELLEN!' Her supple thighs trapped my face in a vice-like grip as her body was torn by her tempestuous climax.

Every night brought me fresh delights in Yvonne's loving arms. I was thrilled, excited; but an insistent thought was nagging away at the back of my mind. Was I really a lesbian? If so, how could I have enjoyed four years of married bliss with Tom? By the end of the week I was very confused.

After a week of abstinence, Tom was eager for me at the first opportunity. He came home exhausted on the Sunday morning, but when I took him his tea on a tray, he was sitting up in bed with a gleam in his eye. 'Never mind the tea, love!' he said.

'Aren't you hungry?'

'Yeah, but not for food!'

'Now, Tom! Eat your meal while I freshen up.'

'OK, but don't be long!'

I needed a few minutes to collect my thoughts. How would I respond to Tom's advances after my week of lesbian love? My hands trembled as I repaired my make-up.

When I returned to the bedroom, Tom was lying naked on top of the bedclothes, his erect penis beating rhythmically. At the sight of it, I was overcome by a devouring passion. I literally flung myself on top of him and impaled myself on that potent pillar of throbbing flesh.

'Hey!' cried Tom in delighted surprise, 'Looks like somebody else is hungry, too!'

'Yes, darling, I could eat you up!' And I rode him with a fervour I had never shown before, revelling in the joy and relief I felt because I wanted him so. Inevitably, my ardour brought us both to a quick climax which didn't sate the fires of passion consuming our bodies.

We lay together, still joined in love, until Tom grew large and firm inside me. Then we rolled over and he loved me with all the tender skill of which he was capable; prolonging the supreme moment; teasing my avid body into a frenzy of desire. At last, the short vigorous strokes which gave us both release in a climax of infinite intensity.

So I wasn't a lesbian, after all! My passion, my deep fulfilment in Tom's arms proved that beyond all doubt. My nights of lesbian love with Yvonne seemed to have increased my desire for Tom's male body.

I imagined my affair with Yvonne had been just a flash-in-the-pan, but when Tom's night-shift came round again, I was ready and eager to welcome her young lissom body into my bed. Once more I savoured the joys offered by the soft contours of a girl's body. When the week was over, I reverted quite naturally to the pleasures provided by Tom's muscular male form.

Yvonne never questions me about my sex-life with Tom. She accepts the fact, as I do, that I am bi-sexual. Tom, of course, suspects nothing of my relationship with Yvonne. I pray he never will, because I want my life to continue in its present pattern. There is a completeness which was lacking — although I didn't realise it — before I found my true sexual potential.

These two girls agree that their ability to love both men and women has enriched their lives; both refer to a sense of completeness. Can it be that hetero and homosexuals are missing out on something? Is it possible that the small minority of bi-sexuals are the truly sexually-adjusted members of society?

Sylvia and Ellen would undoubtedly answer — 'Yes!'

Bi-sexuality, the ability of a person to love members of both sexes, can apply equally to men and women. Previously, Sylvia and Ellen described their reactions when they discovered they possessed this faculty. Now it is the turn of two men to relate how they coped with the revelation that they were bi-sexual.

Maurice, aged 30 and married for seven years, was incredulous when he realised he was sexually attracted to a sixteen-year-old youth!

When Betty, my wife, suggested that we have Peter stay with us while he studied at the local Tech., I was against it. I imagined some long-haired yobbo invading the privacy of my home. But, since Peter was the son of an old family friend, Betty prevailed upon me to change my mind.

I was pleasantly surprised when the lad arrived. His hair was long certainly, but it was clean and tidy and the colour of burnished gold. Instead of the shabby jeans and sloppy sweater I had expected, Peter was immaculate in fawn crimplene trousers and a multi-coloured silk shirt.

He was strikingly handsome and, when he smiled, he displayed beautifully even white teeth. When he came indoors and carried his luggage upstairs, I noticed that his supple young body moved with a natural grace. I felt a warm friendly glow kindle in me; more potent than I had ever felt for a member of my own sex.

I found Peter a highly intelligent boy and, surprisingly — in view of the difference in our ages — we got along very well together. His presence gave me a thrill or pleasure, but it wasn't until I caught myself regarding his body intently — admiring the neat roundness of his buttocks; assessing his sexual potential by the bulge in his trousers — that I realised the full implication of my friendly interest. I fancied him!

At first I was aghast. I'd better pull myself together, I thought. Why was I, a happily married man, feeling randy over a boy? Betty would be horrified if she suspected. But the more I tried to suppress my feelings, the more intense they became.

Nevertheless, I was determined not to reveal those feelings — how would the lad react, anyway? — until the night we met face to face clad only in our briefs. I reached out to open the bathroom door when it opened and Peter stood there, his lithe body framed in the doorway.

Neither of us spoke for a moment; we simply stared at each other, but I'll swear a telepathic message passed between us. We both mumbled an apology and Peter stood aside to let me pass. Our bodies brushed together lightly in the narrow doorway and a tingle like an electric shock rippled through my body. I resolved, then, to make my feelings known to Peter; sometime, somehow.

The opportunity arose on the following Saturday. Betty had gone on a shopping spree with a friend and Peter, at a loose end, had volunteered to help me in the garden. We both did some hefty digging, during which I glanced frequently at Peter to admire the graceful movements of his slim young body. When we had finished, we both felt in need of a shower.

'Do you want me to wash your back?' I asked jocularly.

'You can if you like,' he replied, flashing me a look which was almost coquettish.

We stripped off and stepped into the shower together. When I felt his smooth skin under my hands as I lathered his back, my feelings took over completely; my penis rose rapidly to lodge in the cleft of his firm young buttocks.

My heart stood still as I waited for his reaction. It started pounding again when he turned his head to give me a smile. which said everything. I noticed then that his penis was firmly erect and beating eagerly. Sliding my soapy hand slowly over his belly, I grasped the throbbing shaft and began to massage it gently.

Peter sighed softly and pressed his buttocks hard against me, gyrating them slowly to tantalise my imprisoned penis. Soon, his penis throbbed fiercely in my hand and his sperm shot forth, the first few spurts striking the tiles with a satisfying smack. I was so thrilled by his vigorous ejaculation that I reached my peak within seconds; my penis beating rhythmically in the cleft of his bottom as I shot my semen down the backs of his trembling thighs.

We stood together languidly, letting the warm water wash over our sated bodies, until we recovered from our climax. Then Peter turned and faced me, put his arms round me and pressed his lissom body close to me, his now flaccid penis meeting mine. We hadn't spoken a word during the whole episode and I felt it was time to break the silence.

'You — you're a lovely boy, Peter,' I whispered.

'Do you mean that, Maurice?'

'Yes!'

'I'm glad, because I love you.'

Peter was looking up at me solemnly, his full sensuous lips slightly parted. Impulsively, I kissed him; it seemed the natural thing to do. When he parted his teeth, I slid my tongue deep into his mouth and explored its inviting warmth. The sensuality of the moment — open mouths together, hands caressing firm male contours — began to excite us both. Peter's penis began to harden and was answered by my own increasing firmness.

'Now I'll wash your back,' said Peter, meaning much more than that.

When I felt the throbbing hardness of his eager young penis against my bottom, his hands sliding over my back, my chest, my belly; I was impatient for their ultimate intimate touch. I gasped with delight as his strong fingers closed around my shaft and massaged me firmly but gently. The sensation was superb and rose swiftly to its zenith.

Peter held my penis tightly as it pumped my sperm from me in a milky-white jet. I thrust my buttocks backwards as I came and was rewarded by a frantic thrusting from Peter, culminating in a wild throbbing as the sticky warmth of his semen spurted against my testicles.

I hope I have made it clear that we did not indulge in anal intercourse. We simply lodged the penis in the cleft of the buttocks, pointing downwards; and a very erotic experience it was, especially when the seminal fluid spurted forth.

There's no denying that I enjoyed my first session of homosexual love with Peter, although I regarded it with mixed feelings. Was I a latent homosexual? Would it 'put me off' Betty? I pondered the question all evening.

My doubts were set at rest that night as we prepared for bed. Watching Betty shed her clothes, gradually revealing her delectable body, I was overcome by an insatiable desire for her. When I revealed my state of arousal, Betty gave me a smile born of years of intimacy. I loved her that night with more passion than I had shown for a long, long time.

Peter and I had few opportunities to be alone together, but we made full use of those we had. I found increasing delight in his fine young body; the mass of golden hair surmounting the handsome features, the smooth hairless chest with its rosy nipples, the flat belly, slim hips, firm buttocks and proud pulsating penis with its long straight shaft protruding from the bush of blond pubic hair, the neatly rolled foreskin exposing the glans.

It was a gorgeous glans; a glorious glans; a vivid vermilion, deepening to a rich shade of purple at the corona. Gazing at Peter's perfect penis, a desire possessed me which I found irresistible. I knelt in front of him, cupped my hands round his firm buttocks and took his wonderful glans into my mouth. Its silky smoothness, its throbbing warmth, so excited me that I sucked it hungrily.

Peter gasped and moaned with sheer delight, thrusting forward with his loins, pushing his penis to the back of my throat. It made me gag, but I didn't care; the sensuality of the moment overcame all else. When the tell-tale rippling belly muscles announced that his climax was imminent, I drew clear and took his salvo of sperm full in the chest.

Later, Peter looked lovingly at my erect penis and steered my engorged glans between his widely parted lips. I shuddered and moaned as he folded his tongue around the throbbing head. The ecstasy was agonising. My warning cry was little more than a strangled gasp.

Peter drew back and cupped his hands to catch my spurting sperm.

Somehow, we managed to conceal our affair from Betty and I was able to live a fully bi-sexual life during the two years Peter stayed with us. The experience has been enriching.

Like most married men, I am susceptible to an attractive girl, although I love my wife deeply. Since I recognised my bi-sexuality, I find pleasure in admiring handsome young men, too.

Life seems more complete now that I can respond sexually to the charms of both sexes. There has been no other boy since Peter, but perhaps some day . . .

Andrew, tall, fair-haired and moderately handsome, is 20. He was living with another young man when the great revelation occurred two years ago:

I had always believed myself to be homosexual. My mutual masturbation sessions with school friends led, quite naturally, to an affair with Jeremy when I was sixteen. He was very dark, slim and good-looking, but that wasn't the only attraction; our sex-life was founded on a firm friendship.

I met him when I left home and went into digs; my first job taking me to the big city. I was feeling somewhat lost and not a little homesick until my landlady introduced me to Jeremy.

We took an immediate liking to one another and it wasn't long before we became intimate. It was a bit tricky, though; we were always afraid of being discovered by our landlady and it seemed a good idea to move into a flatlet of our own. There, freed of all inhibitions, our love-life blossomed into a full-scale homosexual affair.

Jeremy was a year older than me and just that little bit more worldly-wise. He guided me skilfully into more varied and sophisticated ways of all-male love. I was very happy with him. Girls, for me, didn't exist — until Jeremy's sister, Melanie, showed up unexpectedly.

She had come to work in the city and started dropping in regularly. We both welcomed her visits as she usually cooked us a better meal than we could manage. She was, I think, twenty at this time; dark, like Jeremy, with a pretty face and a good figure. I noticed this in a detached way; I was far too keen on Jeremy to have any sexual feelings for his sister. Melanie, however, had more than a platonic interest in me.

I was surprised when she turned up one evening when Jeremy was at night-school. She knew he would be out. Although I felt at ease with Melanie when Jeremy was present, I now found myself struck dumb with shyness. Melanie, with her easy friendly manner, soon thawed me out, however, and I began to feel relaxed with her.

My embarrassment returned when Melanie said, looking at me appraisingly, 'You're very good looking, Andrew.'

I didn't know what to say and my confusion increased when I felt myself blushing. Melanie smiled warmly. 'There's no need to be shy with me,' she murmured.

When I still didn't answer, she went on, 'You're not used to girls, are you?'

'No!' I blurted out, adding, as if to justify myself, 'Jeremy isn't either!'

Melanie smiled. 'I know. And I think I know why.'

My face must have given me away, because Melanie said, 'I'm right, aren't I? You and Jeremy . . .?'

I nodded.

'Well, don't you think it's time you found out about girls?' Melanie sidled closer to me.

'I — er — er — '

My stammering stopped when Melanie reached up with a soft smooth hand and pulled my head down towards her. The touch of her moist warm lips on mine sent a new thrill tingling through my body; the pressure of her small firm breasts against my chest excited me strangely. Her perfume carried with it a mysterious sensual promise.

'There! That wasn't so bad, was it?' she asked, drawing away to survey me with a seductive smile.

By way of answer, I sought her lips again. I liked the sensations her soft mouth induced in me. It was a long kiss. Before it was over, my arms were around her, my hands caressing her. I didn't understand it, but I was enjoying it.

Our kisses became longer; our lips parted; our tongues met and intertwined; our breathing became faster; our bodies clung tightly together. Suddenly, I realised I had an erection and I pulled away from her, thinking she would be offended if she felt it. Melanie gave me a quizzical look, then ran her hand lightly over the front of my trousers. Without a word she led me into the bedroom.

'Undress me, darling.' Her voice was low, husky.

I hesitated.

'Please!' she murmured.

Hypnotised by the promise lurking in the liquid depths of her dark eyes, I obeyed. I was clumsy, embarrassed; but, at last, Melanie stood before me in all her breathtaking naked beauty. All I could do was stare at the soft curves of her lovely body.

Unhurriedly, but purposefully, Melanie stripped me. Her eyes swept approvingly over my nudity. I was self-conscious until her hand closed around my eagerly erect penis. All I felt then was desire; desire to plunge my rigid rod into her soft inviting flesh.

Melanie steered me to the bed and spread herself upon it, her body open to me. I crouched between her silky-smooth thighs and prodded with my penis at the glistening gaping lips of her vagina. My attempts were ineffectual, until she held me firmly and guided me in, deeper and deeper, until my rampant flesh was completely engulfed by her.

After a few moments, I began to do what came naturally; sliding my penis slowly in and out of the slippery sheath formed by her vagina. Soon my movements quickened and Melanie answered every stroke with her vibrant body. Much too soon, I realised I was going to come; but there was nothing I could do about it except bring myself to the peak with a series of fierce jabs, collapsing on top of Melanie when I had spent myself. When I tried to withdraw, she grasped me firmly by the buttocks and held me to her.

'Not yet, darling,' she whispered.

As we lay together, my penis slowly shrinking, I realised I hadn't satisfied Melanie. She continued to kiss and caress me until I had another erection without ever leaving her body. This time I kept control. It was Melanie who threshed about in a frenzy of lust as my probing penis aroused her passion to fever pitch. When she wrapped her legs around me and arched her body upwards, the powerful pulsing of her vagina brought me to another climax.

I was reluctant to relinquish Melanie's beautiful body. Loving her had been such a wonderful experience for me. I felt a sense of absolute fulfilment. Above all, I felt a man. When she said — 'We'd better get dressed. We don't want Jeremy to find us, do we?' — I came back to earth.

This complicates things, I thought; but when I saw Jeremy's slim finely-muscled body that same night, I knew I wanted him. I ran my hands over his fine skin, thrilling as he took me in his arms, parting my lips to allow his tongue to lie along mine.

We climbed into bed and I lay alongside him, the tip of my proud penis probing deeply into the cleft of his bottom. I reached over and grasped his splendid shaft, stroking it gently. When I felt the tensing of his penis, its powerful pulsations as he ejaculated, the warm fluid running over my hand, I gave a sensual shudder and shot my sperm into his anus.

I lay awake for a long time, thinking. There was no doubt in my mind; I loved the darkly handsome boy sleeping soundly by my side. But I had enjoyed sex with his sister. I was shocked at the recollection of my carnal pleasure in Melanie's arms. Perhaps it wouldn't happen again.

Next time Melanie found me alone, I knew perfectly well it was going to happen again. When I surveyed her trim figure and lovely features; read the message in those wonderful eyes, I wanted it to happen. I knew, then, that I was bi-sexual.

For several months I enjoyed the best of both worlds. Then the inevitable happened. Jeremy returned early one evening and caught Melanie and me in bed together. I'd rather not dwell on the scene that followed. It ended with Jeremy throwing us both out.

I moved in with Melanie and, for a time, we were reasonably happy. Deep down, though, I blamed her for ruining the deep and meaningful relationship I'd had with Jeremy and, when the glitter wore off, we began bickering, then rowing. Eventually, we parted.

I lived in a kind of limbo for a while before I picked up the pieces. In the two years since that traumatic business, I've enjoyed several affairs with members of both sexes. Although I was deeply upset at the time I've come to thank Melanie for revealing my bi-sexual nature to me, thus allowing me to live a full and complete sex life.