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Category: Erotica/Bisexual Erotica
Description: These Women Have It Both Ways--Strictly Bi is compelling, sexy and smart--and most of all hot! Six years in the making, Strictly Bi: The Best Bisexual Erotica, is a collection of sultry erotic fiction about women who enjoy the best of both worlds from internationally published author, editor and bisexual activist, Jamie Joy Gatto. This collection is brimming with her sexiest bisexual stories, work that has appeared in publications such as Best Bisexual Erotica 1 & 2, Unlimited Desires, Guilty Pleasures, The Unmade Bed, Ripe Fruit and many more. From Gatto's tell-all essay on sensual dress-up, "The Adventures of a Bi Slut Dolly" to her too-hot-to-handle "Cirque du Trois" you simply won't be able to put this collection down. [Cover "Coy" by Mia Jennings.]
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler, 2004
eBookwise Release Date: June 2004

10 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [115 KB]
Words: 25374
Reading time: 72-101 min.

"Her writing sparkles, crackles and sizzles like no other; absolutely her characters are alive, living long in the mind after the book's been closed; her poetry sings like the finest nightingale. When I pick up something from Jamie Joy, I know I'm in for a special treat. Do yourself a favor and buy this book--I can guarantee that when you finish you won't be the same, you'll be better."--M. Christian, Author/Editor of Dirty Words and Guilty Pleasures.

DEDICATION

This book is for all the out, open bis and especially closeted bisexuals, bi-curious and bi-questioning people of the world, and to those people who simply find guilty pleasure in reading bisexual erotica. I'd also like to dedicate this book to the members of my newsgroup, A Bi-Friendly Place, which can be found on the Web at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ABi-FriendlyPlace, and to my group moderator, Sabrina Qedesha who so graciously helps me with the upkeep of this group.

A Bi-Friendly Place is a safe, comfortable and casual way to meet other bisexuals, to discuss bi issues, to share your stories, to ask questions, and most importantly to find community. I invite you to join us online to share your thoughts, issues, doubts and fears. Maybe you can even help another person learn to feel comfortable about their own sexuality. Remember, we are here for you; you are not alone!

CONTENTS

BEING ME

A GARDEN CALLED YOU

CIRQUE DU TROIS

ONLY IN DREAMS

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

A WARDROBE OF SOULS

GO YOUR OWN WAY

LAST CALL

PISSING IN THE MEN'S ROOM

THE ADVENTURES OF A BI SLUT DOLLY

MY OWN TWISTED URGES

AM I A SWINGER? YOU TELL ME:

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

BEING ME

Lipstick lingers on my lips

from a boy who kissed me

wearing the latest Mac

Boots lined up by my front door

belong to the girl

who put me to bed too drunk last night

Ed is gay

and Bill is not

and Jenny is hopelessly hetero

Where am I in the middle of minds fixed

so rigidly on sexuality and ego?

Not lost like a little lamb...

I'm just always tiptoeing over your lines

I am not a mistaken identity

and I do not have to choose

Am I the one who's so confused?

I know who I am.

I'm proud to be me.

Don't try to rope me?

Never fence me in.

Play with me,

I'm lots of fun!

Please, don't be afraid of me...

Can't you see I'm just like you?

But, I'm also just like him, and her,

Why does it matter so much

"who I love?

or who I fuck

or want to fuck

or how I love to you?

A GARDEN CALLED YOU

"What's in a name? ... lots," I mutter to no one, peeling off, then tossing my wet towel across the wood floor, spooking the cat, as I lie sprawled across my big queen bed, wet and naked, skin still sunburn-warm from the bath. "Chaka is just the wrong name for a white chick," I think for the millionth time, damning my mother for naming me after a pop star. "Especially for a skinny white chick, with small breasts. I should have been named Anne or Mary."

I grab a little handful of my pale flesh, holding a tiny tit in my hand and I wonder what it would feel like to wrap my fingers around a meaty, black breast, full and creamy, dark brown nipples ... maybe nipples the color of burgundy wine. I start to play with my own nipple, watching it grow tighter, pulling away from the areola into a tight, little pearly nubbin. I think of my hands touching a myriad of black women's bodies: pert tits with perky nipples, ripe like raisins, ready to pop into my mouth; a large pair of pendulous beauties attached to a mammoth woman who'd smother me, and my lips, with soft, seductive flesh.

I think of all the black women I've known. Not too many, actually, but I've almost always been attracted to each one, in a different way. I knew a girl in college, Martha. She was a rocker, and I thought she was the coolest chick I'd ever met. She worked in a record store, and knew everything about anything that had to do with hip music. Martha was dark brown, chunky, pointy breasted, and big bellied. She still managed to squeeze into skin-tight jeans, and apparently didn't mind the curves she showed off, regardless of her weight. I think of one particular night, after we'd had drinks at The Club, something she'd said made me laugh, and we were both just roaring, and then giggling, and finally chuckling all over again at the silliness of our private joke. In one brief moment our eyes locked, and I just knew we were so happy to be together, drunk and stupidly laughing. Oh, how I wanted to unsnap her jeans and bury myself in that beautiful belly of hers!