Bisexually Sandwiched By My Sentient Peanut Butter Husband And Our New Living Jelly Girlfriend - (Classic Tingler Revisited)

hello buckaroos ONCE AGAIN I AM TROTTING IN FROM TOUR saying hello as i sit here in a beach house in SAN DIEGO CALIFORNIA. thats right its SAN DIGEO COMIC CON TIME. 'but chuck why are you not near convention center?' you might be asking, 'isnt that were everyone stays when they are trotting to comic con?'

you would be correct in this assumption but my private way means there are a few precautions. i cannot really say near everyone else because someone might catch me trotting to a hotel room, so instead i stay a little ways out of town which i will admit is actually VERY NICE. right now i am listening to the waves crash and the seagulls call and it is a meditative trot

so far so good at comic con just out here proving love. THE HEAT IS A LITTLE MUCH but fortunately once you get inside convention center it cools down a bit

anyway new tingler bundle comes out today MY FOOD IS BI AND SO AM I so i wanted to post one of those stories here for all you buckaroos. a few have already been posted on the patreon but this one HAS NOT an i am very excited to share. please enjoy BISEXUALLY SANDWICHED BY MY SENTIENT PEANUT BUTTER HUSBAND AND OUR NEW LIVING JELLY GIRLFRIEND

Tempo Peenie and his husband, a handsome sentient peanut butter named Rimble, are always looking for the hottest new restaurant in town, but when they show up for tonight’s reservation they find a glaring problem with the menu: everything’s got nuts!

They couple soon find sympathy in their server, a beautiful strawberry jelly named Ponda, but are the pleasantries between them more than just good service?

When Ponda makes her intentions known at the end of the meal, things quickly start to escalate, culminating in a hardcore bisexual encounter as Tempo is sandwiched between his peanut butter and jelly lovers!

This erotic tale is 4,000 words of sizzling human on living peanut butter on sentient strawberry jelly action, including anal, blowjobs, threesomes, rough sex, and bisexual food spreads love.

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BISEXUALLY SANDWICHED BY MY SENTIENT PEANUT BUTTER HUSBAND AND OUR NEW LIVING JELLY GIRLFRIEND

By Chuck Tingle 

Relationships come in all shapes and sizes, and that’s a wonderful thing. As long as everyone’s happy and healthy, there’s really no combination of folks that have it wrong when it comes to who, or how, to love.

         My husband and I are what you might call monogamish, not entirely open to bringing someone else into our bedroom, but also not entirely closed off to the possibility. I’m sure many couples might be worried about the tension a lifestyle like ours could create, but in truth it does the opposite. The ability to openly discuss something as meaningful and important as normal sexual attraction with a loving partner has only made our relationship stronger, letting off that tension like steam instead of piling onto it.

         We’re a very happy couple, with no signs of slowing down.

         It seems like the only time things get awkward in our relationship is when my husband and I are out to eat, which is a fairly common occurrence. We love to try out new places around town, reveling in the exciting flavors that dance their way across our palettes. Just getting out of the house for a date night is often worth the trip, but the problems occur when it’s time to make our order.

         Rimble, my husband, has a very particular diet, thanks to the fact that he is not a fellow human being, but sentient, living peanut butter. Suffice to say, he is very strict about any nuts in his food, regardless of the fact that anything we eat was clearly not sentient to begin with. We’re vegetarians anyway.

         “Whoa, very nice,” my husband gushes as we walk through the door of this swanky new restaurant. He’s looking this way and that, in a state of complete wonder as we take in the luxurious modern trappings.

         For a meal this pricey, they better be nice.

         “Hello there,” the host greets us. “Do you have a reservation this evening?”

         “Yes,” I reply, stepping forward and smiling wide. “It should be under Tempo Peenie.”

         The host scans down a long list of names, then nods when he finally arrives at mine. “Ah yes, Mr. Peenie for two. Right this way!”

         Soon enough, my husband and I are being lead deep into the restaurant, passing tables full of other hungry patrons and their sizzling, delicious food. It’s hard not to let our eyes linger across their orders, taking it all in and weighing the options for when it comes time to make an order ourselves.

         The host seats us and then heads back to his post, leaving my husband and I to marvel at all the wonderful sights and sounds of this high end establishment.

         Rimble takes a menu and begins to peruse his options, excited at first and then gradually struck with an unexpected expression of aching dread.

         “What is it?” I question, reaching out my hand and placing it over his peanut butter palm.

         “It’s fine, it’s fine,” Rimble offers, struggling to just keep it together and enjoy the meal. I can tell he’s having trouble, however.

         “Come on, baby,” I prod. “What’s up.”
         Finally, I take a look at the menu myself, scanning down the page and taking in each of the restaurant’s delicious offerings. There’s a wide variety to choose from, and any other diner would likely have trouble connecting a thread between these various food items. I know exactly what to look for, however, and soon enough I’m frowning too.

         “Oh shit,” I blurt. “There’s literally nuts in everything.”
         My sentient peanut butter husband nods, a disappointed expression on his face.

         Obviously, working around Rimble’s dietary restrictions is something we’re used to, but this marks the first time it appears not a single option is available. We’d heard so many good things about this place that we hadn’t even bothered to check out the menu beforehand, as that’s never really been a problem, but now it appears this has come back to bite us. Our night out might officially be ruined.

         “Oh my god, does everything have nuts in it?” I question.

         The sentence alone sends a visible chill down Rimble’s peanut butter spine. He’s usually very calm and collected in this kind of situation, but in tonight’s particular case it’s a little much.

         “Looks like it,” Rimble offers in return. “It’s okay, baby. I don’t have to eat.”

         I scoff at this suggestion. “We’ll go somewhere else if we have to.”
         “No, no, no,” my husband protests.

         My eyes are still locked on the menu, going though each dish and its subsequent listing of ingredients. Nuts everywhere.

         Suddenly, a figure appears at the side of the table. “Welcome to Raptor’s Claw, can I get any drinks started for you?” comes a sweet, feminine voice.

         I turn towards the woman, ready to unload with an angry diatribe about the lack of nut free options, when suddenly I stop in my tracks. Standing before us is an absolutely gorgeous sentient jelly, strawberry from the looks of it. She smiles warmly and her expression immediately disarms both my husband and I.

         “Maybe,” I stammer, slightly taken off guard.

         I focus my mind, trying my best to stay on course while removing all the unnecessary aggression. It’s not very helpful in this situation, after all.

         “We were looking at the menu and… uh… is there anything here without nuts in it?” I finally question. I hand my menu over to the beautiful jelly, who looks it over carefully. She begins to shake her head as she goes, clearly a little disappointed on our behalves.

         “This is crazy,” she finally overs sympathetically. “I’ve told the kitchen they need to come up with a few options for people with nut allergies.” The jelly glances over at my husband. “Or, you know, just don’t want to eat nuts.”

         “It’s gross,” Rimble blurts.

         Our server laughs. “Yeah, tell me about it. There’s strawberries in one of the summer salads and I can’t even carry it over to the table without feeling like I’m gonna gag. I can’t imagine how hard it is to cut out peanuts. Peanuts are everywhere.”

         “Not just peanuts, all nuts,” Rimble offers. “I can see you’re strawberry, but don’t you get freaked out when you spot someone chowing down on a blackberry pie?”

         As I lean back in my chair, watching this conversation unfold, I notice a distinct sparkle in my husband’s eye. He’s clearly very attracted to this sentient jelly, and it seems like the feeling is mutual. Both of them are hitting it off in a way that’s exceedingly rare.

         “Can I be honest,” our server says, leaning in a bit. “I love cherry pie.”

         “No!” Rimble blurts in disbelief. “You’re a berry, though!”

         “Cherry is not a berry!” the sentient jelly replies with a laugh. “I know it kinda seems like it should be, but it’s not. It’s just a fruit.”

         “That’s bad,” Rimble replies in mock disgust.

         “You can’t tell me you’ve never had a candy bar with peanuts in it,” our server teases. “Come on. In your whole life you’ve never snuck a bite?”

         My husband takes a deep breath, preparing himself. I know exactly the story he’s about to share, but I’m astonished by the fact it’s actually an option for him in such a public setting. If this is the tale I think it is, then only our closest friends know, and it only ever comes out after a long night of drinking.

         The handsome living peanut butter lowers his voice to a hushed, private whisper. “When I was a kid, I once… I ate a whole Snickers bar,” he finally admits.

         “Oh my god!” our server gasps, then starts laughing wildly. It takes her a moment to calm down.

         “I know, I know,” Rimble continues, playing it off.

         “Anyway, I can check with the kitchen and see if they can whip something up for you guys off the menu that doesn’t have any nuts, but the whole kitchen is covered in them. I mean, you’ll probably get a dusting no matter what you do.”

         My husband lets out a long sigh, thinking it over.

         “Do you want to go?” I question.

         Our server nods along at my suggestion. “There’s plenty of great places to eat around here, I can help you find something good.”

         “It’s alright,” Rimble finally decides, then turns to me. “Let’s just have a drink while we’re here, then see how we’re feeling after that.”

         “Sounds good, what are we having?” questions our server.

         “Two chocolate milks please,” I tell her with a nod.

         The jelly leaves and me and my husband immediately lock eyes.

         “She was really cute,” I say, “and crazy helpful.”

         “Super sweet,” Rimble agrees.

         We sit in silence, thinking it over for a moment as we marinate on what just happened. I can tell that both of our minds are racing with a variety of different thoughts and feelings.

         “Did you pick up on a… vibe there?” my husband questions.

         I shrug. “Honestly, it’s hard to tell. She was probably just doing her job. Servers are supposed to be friendly.”

         “You’re right,” Rimble confirms begrudgingly.

         I take a deep breath and let it out, trying to analyze the situation as objectively as I can. “It’s not cool to hit on someone at work and put them in an awkward position,” I finally continue. “But… if she makes a move then, obviously, we could take her up on it. She has to make the move though.”

         Rimble agrees.

         When our milks eventually arrive my husband and I fall into a nice conversation about our plans for the week and how great the movie we watched last night was. Eventually, the idea of some flirtatious moment with our server disappears into the ether, completely forgotten.

         “Could we get the check?” I eventually ask our strawberry jelly server as she passes by.

         The beautiful sentient food smiles and nods, and wastes no time returning with our bill.

         “Thanks for coming in guys. Sorry we didn’t have any meal options for you,” she offers.

         “It’s fine,” I reply with a polite grin. “No worries.”

         The server turns and begins to walk away, then suddenly stops herself. Gradually, she rotates back to face me. “I’m sorry,” the server starts confidently. “This is probably a long shot, and obviously you guys are having a nice night together so… I don’t even know why I’m saying this, but… What are you doing later?”

         It suddenly strikes me just how mutual the attraction between us really was, and a wave of excitement washes over me. My husband and I exchange glances, completely blown away by the conviction of our new friend. How could she have known that the two of us were not only bisexual, but happily monogamish?

         It’s like something out of some fantastical erotic novel, yet here we are in real life; a man, his peanut butter husband, and a beautiful jelly woman.

         “We were talking about heading out to look for another restaurant, but then we decided it might be best to head back to our place and make food at home,” I explain.

         “Would you like to come?” my peanut butter husband asks.

         The jelly server nods, biting her lip seductively.

         “We don’t even know your name,” I remind her. “I’m Tempo and this is my husband Rimble.”

         “I’m Ponda,” replies the gorgeous strawberry jelly. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

         We pay our bill and then stand to leave the restaurant, our new strawberry jelly friend joining us as we head for the door.

         Between this unexpected triad, the tension is already building in a powerful, unspoken way.

 By the time we arrive back at the apartment, it feels as though the whole world is going to snap apart under the erotic weight of our unspoken desires. It feels like everything said between us exists on two separate layers of reality, a constant sexual time bomb just continuing to tick down forever and ever just behind the curtain.

         “This is a really nice place, guys,” our new strawberry jelly friend says, glancing around our living room as we make our way inside.

         The floor plan is quite open, leaving the kitchen close as I stroll over in that direction. “Thank you! Any idea what you want for dinner?”

         I open up our fridge and start looking through the various items at my disposal, trying my best to come up with a reasonably tasty meal. Of course, I’m having a terrible time focusing on the task at hand, thinking instead about what kind of hardcore encounter could be lurking just around the corner.

         “We don’t have much, but I think I could get some ravioli going,” I offer.

         “What about bread?” the beautiful jelly coos. “I was hoping we could make a sandwich.”

         I close the door to the fridge and glance over at Ponda, struggling to determine if she intends for this to sound the way that it does. The second our eyes meet, however, I realize it’s on.

         Without a word, I make my way back into the living room, meeting my peanut butter and jelly in the middle and then embracing them both simultaneously. The three of us begin to passionately make out with one another, the tension finally breaking in one glorious moment of sensual release. The way their sticky, sweet hands caress my body feels absolutely incredible, a perfect combination.

         Soon enough, the living spreads are pulling away my clothing and tossing it to the side, undressing my body and exposing me to the cool evening air. When I’m completely naked, I drop down to my knees before my two lovers.

         First, I turn towards my peanut butter husband, opening wide and taking his enormous, erect cock between my lips. The taste is incredible as I get to work pumping my face up and down his rod, savoring every second of this oral encounter. I start slowly and then build speed until I’m hammering myself down onto his dick with belligerent enthusiasm. Eventually, I pop the cock out of my mouth and then drag my tongue across his rod from the base to the tip.

         At this point I open wide to consume Rimble’s shaft yet again, only this time I don’t just bob my head up and down. Instead, I push his peanut butter goodness deeper and deeper into my gullet, swallowing him all the way down until my face is pressed up hard against his perfectly chiseled abs. Rimble places his hands against the back of my head and holds me there for a long while, enjoying his position of dominance until I finally can’t take it any more and pull back with a sputtering gasp.

         Immediately, I turn my attention over to Ponda, diving in and delicately swirling my tongue in circles around her strawberry jelly clit. Her taste is just as incredible as my husband’s, and as the two flavors melt together within my mouth I find myself absolutely overwhelmed by the beautiful combination. It’s utterly intoxicating, driving me to push even deeper. Eventually, the movements of my tongue evolve until I’m excitedly lapping away at Ponda’s pussy, the beautiful jelly rocking her hips against me while she continues to passionately kiss my husband.

         Eventually, Rimble moves away, allowing me to focus on Ponda completely. The sentient jelly begins to step back, forcing me to crawl along after her on my hands and knees. She beckons me playfully onward, continuing to move away until she reaches the living room couch and then collapses into it.

         The strawberry jelly spreads her legs and allows me passage as I continue to eat her out, taking my time to focus one what makes her move along with the subtle motions of my mouth. Meanwhile, I can sense my husband taking his position behind me.

         I glance back over my shoulder and smile wide, giving my ass cheek a playful slap and then spreading myself open for the man of my dreams.

         “Come on, baby,” I coo playfully. “Fuck me while I lick our new friend!”

         My handsome peanut butter husband aligns himself with my butthole then acts as though he’s thrusting forward, but stops before entering. I can feel him testing the limits of my anal seal with his cock, yet refusing to push through, teasing me.

         “Please,” I beg. “Just fuck me. I need that cock in my ass.”

         “You sure?” my husband asks, toying with me.

         “Yes,” I groan. “I need you to make me into your peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

         With that, Rimble thrusts forward, impaling me across his girthy sentient food cock as a startled gasp escapes my lips. His size is incredible, and although I’m used to it from our many erotic romps together, it’s still not exactly easy to take on the first push. Thankfully, my husband knows this, and he takes his time with me, allowing his cock to rest deep within my body, completely unmoving while I adjust to his size.

         Gradually, Rimble begins to pump in and out of my rump, causing the ache within my loins to dissipate and quickly become replaced by a potent erotic warmth. Soon enough, the two of us fall into a pleasant rhythm and I can turn my attention back to Ponda, gracefully running my tongue around her clit in flickering circles.

         It’s not long before all three of us find a nice groove together, passing the carnal pleasure back and forth through our bodies in a long line. I watch as the living jelly lover before me starts to tremble and quake, pushing closer and closer to her first orgasm of the evening.

         I slip two fingers within her, filling her up while I continue to work with my tongue and edge her towards climax. Suddenly, Ponda is placing her hands against the back of my skull, holding me against her pussy while she throws her head back and lets out a frantic scream. Her entire body quakes wildly, the muscles expanding and contracting in unison while the waves of orgasm ripple across her frame.

         By now, my husband’s pounds up my ass have transformed into a manic anal hammering, giving it to me with everything he’s got. I use this enthusiasm while I eat out Ponda, not letting up for a second until she’s finally finished, collapsing back against the couch in a state of fucked silly euphoria.

         “That was amazing,” the gorgeous strawberry jelly moans. “I need more.”

         “More huh?” I reply with a laugh.

         “I need you to fuck me,” she demands.

         With that, Ponda slides down off the couch and slips herself under me, gazing up with lustful eyes as she kisses me deeply on the lips with a sweet, flavorful kiss.

         I reach down and position my cock, then push forward with a single deep thrust, entering her.

         “Fuck yes,” Ponda sighs, pulling me tight against her body.

         At this point, my peanut butter husband lets up with his anal pounds, falling back a bit and then finding a steady, slow rhythm. Me, my peanut butter, and the jelly all start moving together in unison, falling into sync as we rock steadily in time. The sensation of being stuck in the middle of these two beautiful lovers is incredible, and the dual sources of stimulation quickly start to blend together within me, creating a potent cocktail.

         “Oh my god, oh my god” I start to whisper over and over again, the words falling out of my mouth in a steady rhythm. Louder and louder the sounds grow until, eventually, I’m calling out at the top of my lungs, completely lost in the moment.

         Soon enough, my voice is joined by the others, all three of us creating a wild chorus of ecstasy. Our cries echo out through the apartment and come back to us, filling the air with a beautiful cacophony.

         Suddenly, one voice cuts through the noise, our new strawberry jelly lover calling out as her eyes roll back into her head. “I’m gonna cum again! Don’t stop fucking me just like that.”

         I do as I’m told, keeping the pace as steady as I possibly can. As I watch, Ponda reaches down and begins to frantically rub her clit, giving herself just enough of a push to erupt with her second orgasm of the evening. The beautiful sentient food grabs onto me tightly, completely lost for what seems like forever until, at long last, she falls back in exhaustion.

         “Now it’s your turn,” Ponda coos seductively. “Give me your loads!”

         I pull out of the beautiful strawberry jelly lover and she falls back against the couch, displaying her plentiful red breasts for Rimble and me. Soon enough, the two of us are standing on either side of Ponda, furiously beating ourselves off while she cradles our balls.

         “Cum for me,” Ponda commands. “Blast those hot loads all over my tits.”

         My husband erupts first, ejecting a hot load of sweet peanut butter across the strawberry jelly’s beautiful body. It paints her breasts in a glorious pattern of spunk, which Ponda then scoops up into her fingers.

         The living jelly then takes this peanut butter load and reaches over, wrapping her fingers tight around my cock and using my husband’s jizz as lube. She immediately takes over for me, pumping her fist across my length as fast as she can until, suddenly, I’m struck with a powerful wave of pleasure as the climax erupts. I let out a frantic cry as my cum blasts hard onto the strawberry jelly’s chest, mixing with my husband’s who came before it. The sensation is so incredible that I nearly buckle at the knees, mustering all of the discipline I can before somehow managing to stay upright.

         When I finally finish I stagger backwards, struggling to collect myself. My breathing heavy, I finally collapse into a nearby chair in a state of satisfied delirium.

         “That was amazing,” I sigh.

         “I second that,” Rimble agrees.

         “I third it,” Ponda adds with a laugh.

         Soon enough, all three of us are laughing, smiling wide as we bask in the afterglow of such a wonderful encounter.

         We lay around for a while until finally our new strawberry jelly lover breaks the silence.

         “Welp, I guess I should probably get going,” she offers, standing up.

         “You know… you don’t have to go,” I inform her.

         The sentient spread stops in her tracks, turning around to face us. “Really?”

         My husband and I exchange glances, then nod at one another in complete approval.

         “Not unless you want to,” Rimble offers.

         A grin slowly begins to creep its way across the living jelly’s face. “That’s very sweet of you. I just wasn’t sure what this was, you know? It’s one thing to have a little threesome fling, but usually that’s all it is. I don’t want to just insert myself into a relationship where I’m not wanted.”

         “You’re very kind to be worried, and I’m sure me and Rimble will talk about that in detail later. For now, I think we can all agree it would be great if you wanted to stick around tonight.”

         Ponda returns, this time strolling over and sitting next to my husband and I.

         “It’s all about communication,” my sentient peanut butter husband offers. “That’s how all of this works.”
         “It’s a good thing we’re all as good at talking as we are at fucking,” our strawberry jelly lover offers. “So what’s next?”

         “Next, we eat,” I blurt, standing up and strolling over to the kitchen again.

         I open up the fridge and begin pulling out supplies, then put on a pot of water for the pasta.

         “No berries in that ravioli, right?” Ponda jokes sarcastically.

         I shake my head. “Nope, I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.”

         I turn around and pull open the freezer, finding myself suddenly face to face with a frozen strawberry cheesecake. My heart skips a beat when I see this, and for a moment I’m faced with a very important question: Do we skip dessert just for tonight? Or is this the beginning of something much more meaningful?

         I reach inside the freezer, pulling out the strawberry cheesecake and walking it over to the trashcan. I drop the whole thing in without a second thought.