My wife then stood up and squealed in surprise. All three of us looked at what caught my wife’s attention and there was two other couples on the c...ouches across from our beds. They were in different stages of sex themselves. Must have been recent arrivals as I didn’t remember seeing them when we first got here. We said hi and they acknowledged us with a hi back. One of the guys told my wife to go ahead to take her bra off. She looked a little stunned so I told her to go ahead. It’s not. She took a lime and squeezed it over her chest, juice dripping down her cleavage."You want a taste?" she drawled. I was a little shy at first. I had never been with another woman before and I didn't know what Jason would think. I looked back at him and he gave a slight nod of approval."I'd love a taste," I said. "And by the way, My name is Gwen." I had longed for this moment for so long. I had always wanted to know the experience of being with another woman. I never thought I'd have the guts to. She was in a state of shock. She tried to remove my hand but with her struggle my grip only got stronger and harder. She scratched my arms with her nails and I squeezed her breast with a pumping motion. She was in excruciating pain and I could see tears in her eyes. I released her breast and pushed her back on the bed. She was in pain and she was in shock. I spread her legs and slapped her on the pussy. Now, this was a really hard one. She sat up with tears rolling down her cheeks and I could. Like all of you, I find myself plagued with doubt as I face my fears, my doubts and gather my strengths to take the next step on the road of life. I underwent a similar ordeal in 2003 when I finally admitted to myself that I was a bisexual black man and that it was completely okay. Yes, I’ve been there and done that when it comes to life and identity crises, as they say. Yes, I’ve done many things in the past. There was a time when I went out to fight in the name of justice. I identified with.