Every Which Way

By Habu

Pansexuals are people for whom sex is sex is sex, regardless of the gender of the “other(s),” and pansexuals have been described as those who don’t care whose pants they’ll put their hand down. This wide-open state of sexual arousal isn’t as well served in stories as other persuasions are. In this anthology Habu provides us with seven “every which way” stories that explore this wide-ranging genre.
“B-6 Cowboy Special” takes a bisexual-service rent-boy to a wedding party striptease job never to be forgotten. On a more serious note, “Fissure in the Rock” shows how bisexuality can pulverize a marriage—that it’s not always a happy romp in the bed. In “Purloined Tryst,” a planned Halloween swinger party tryst goes pleasantly awry, while “Retreat Treat” uses art to reveal an “every which way” experience. “Shimmering Guilt” reflects the culmination of years and years of fear of a pansexual nature being exposed. “The Yellow Cadillac” and the “White Bandana Club” are both freewheeling romps in a rocker world and an inventive service club, respectively.
As Habu reveals, such a gender “who cares?” approach to one’s sexuality can be liberating or guilt-ridden or just plain good, arousing fun—or any combinations of these. Whatever the mood, pansexuality can serve up interesting stories with inventive twists for the reader looking for something freewheeling and open-minded. We hope you will enjoy these and look for Habu’s next anthology in this genre.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BarbarianSpy
• Release date: Jun 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781925190397

Habu

Habu is one of the pen names of a former supersonic spy jet pilot, intelligence agent, male model, movie actor, and diplomat. A wild youth in South East Asia was spent enjoying whatever sexual opportunities came his way, and much of his gay male writing is about recalling incidents from those days and inventing ones he’d perhaps have liked to experience. He now leads a very quiet and ordinary life.Check out our blog and get free stories. Feedback and reviews are always appreciated.

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WARNING: This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. Contains graphic gay male sex, lesbian sex, group sex, multiple partners, anal sex, bisexual and pansexual sex, all of which may be considered offensive by some readers.

All sexually active characters in this work are at least 18 years of age.

This book is copyright © Habu 2015

Habu asserts the right to be known as the author of this work.

Published by BarbarianSpy in 2015

Cover design © BarbarianSpy 2015

Cover image: manipulated: Copyright: Alta Oosthuizen

ISBN: 978-1-925190-39-7

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review or article, without written permission from the author or publisher.

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this e-book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this e-book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters in this book are the product of the author’s imagination and no resemblance to real people, or implication of events occurring in actual places, is intended.

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Every Which Way

Habu

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Table of Contents

Introduction

B-6 Cowboy Special

Fissures in the Rock

Purloined Tryst

Retreat Treat

Shimmering Guilt

The Yellow Cadillac

White Bandana Club

About the Author

BOOKS BY HABU

Introduction

Pansexuals are people for whom sex is sex is sex, regardless of the gender of the other(s), and pansexuals have been described as those who don’t care whose pants they’ll put their hand down. This wide-open state of sexual arousal isn’t as well served in stories as other persuasions are. In this anthology Habu provides us with seven every which way stories that explore this wide-ranging genre.

B-6 Cowboy Special takes a bisexual-service rent-boy to a wedding party striptease job never to be forgotten. On a more serious note, Fissure in the Rock shows how bisexuality can pulverize a marriage—that it’s not always a happy romp in the bed. In Purloined Tryst, a planned Halloween swinger party tryst goes pleasantly awry, while Retreat Treat uses art to reveal an every which way experience. Shimmering Guilt reflects the culmination of years and years of fear of a pansexual nature being exposed. The Yellow Cadillac and the White Bandana Club are both freewheeling romps in a rocker world and an inventive service club, respectively.

As Habu reveals, such a gender who cares? approach to one’s sexuality can be liberating or guilt-ridden or just plain good, arousing fun—or any combinations of these. Whatever the mood, pansexuality can serve up interesting stories with inventive twists for the reader looking for something freewheeling and open-minded. We hope you will enjoy these and look for Habu’s next anthology in this genre.

B-6 Cowboy Special

My eyes just about rolled up into my head when I came on duty and Leon handed me a ticket for a B-6 Cowboy Special.

I might have to take something to reload this fast unless they’re all content with a mouth job, Leon, I said as I stripped and started to pour myself into the cowboy costume.

Naw, that’s why I saved that ticket for you, Leon said with a short little laugh. You’ve got the reputation for keepin’ it hard the longest of any we’ve got on the rolls. It’ll mean a good $700 evening for you, with six specials added to the base $100 just for lettin’ ’em look at ya. Just think of all the dough you’ll be making.

Leon was just about drooling as he watched me fold my well-hung piece into the pouch under the breakaway pants, slip into the breakaway shirt, and start strapping on the chaps. I’d learned a long time ago what Leon liked and wanted from the guys on the rolls.

Well, after I’d done six bachelorettes at this party assignment, there wouldn’t be much left to share with Leon when I returned. But he was right. $700 for a B-6 Special—a bachelorette striptease party with six sex acts I’d have to perform—was really good money for one evening’s work if I could hack it. It would just about cover that work I had to have done to my Mustang.

I looked at the address on my ticket. The party was in the wedding suite of a local upscale hotel. It was Friday now, so I assumed they’d booked the suite for the duration of the wedding festivities, and this was the bride’s last fling. Must be shelling out a lot of dough for this affair, I thought. That wedding suite didn’t come cheaply. And neither did I.

I guess the girls in the wedding party want to sow their last oats before one of them takes the big plunge, I said, as I put my arms through the cowhide vest and tied a red bandana around my neck.

These are the guys in the wedding party, not the girls. This is a bachelor party, Leon said with great satisfaction, giving me a leer. The bachelorette party is being held at the same time at the same hotel, though.

Ouch, I exclaimed. I bet Leon had given me this assignment with a great deal of pleasure. I was one of the few every which way guys in the stable. And I was one of the only guys who pretty much spurned his suggestions for coupling up. Well, at least this would probably mean I wouldn’t have to be worrying about reloading five times in a short period. I could just turn my ass to them and let them do all the work.

I could tell the party was already going strong when I arrived at the door of the wedding suite I’d been directed to. I took off the overcoat that had covered my cowboy costume while I’d scurried through the lobby and up the elevator and knocked on the door. The young blond stud who answered the door and gave me a big welcoming smile was minimally dressed in just gym shorts and a beer can in his hand, but, as he pulled me inside, I could see that he was overdressed compared to the other five studs scattered about the suite. They only sported the beer cans—and impressive hardons.

What surprised me, though, was that there were six young women there too—in about the same state of undress and inebriation.

Hope you don’t mind, the blond stud said. We decided to combine our parties.

Blondie cranked up the music and had me going right into my regular striptease routine. They cheered and saluted as the breakaway pants came off and then the shirt, leaving me only in the boots, chaps, vest, bandana, and the skimpy pouch.

As soon as I had stripped down to the minimal costume, I was directed to where a real looker—a built strawberry blonde—was sitting, was told she was the bride-to-be, and was asked to give her a lap dance, which I did. She was all hands, and it was all I could do to keep from creaming the inside of my pouch jock strap during the dance.

Not to be left out, the guy who was obviously the groom to be, a dark-haired muscle stud, swarthy of complexion and intriguingly decorated with curly hair on various parts of his body and who might have been the quarterback of this team, also wanted a lap dance. When I came down into his lap as he was sitting in a straight chair, he minimalized my costume further by