The ”I” in bi

I’m very bad at recollecting dates and ages at which stuff happened to me, but I must have been around six years old when I had a penis in my mouth for the first time. Not my uncle’s, or my teacher’s, no abuse by an adult involved. Just a school chum my age.
From as early in life as I can remember, I’ve been fascinated by cocks. At four years old, we just called it Wee-wee or Willy of course, and all it was used for was take a piss.
The first experiences I can remember were in kindergarten. The classes were mixed, boys and girls sitting and playing together, separated only when the time came to go to the toilet. Boys had their urinals on the left side of the toilet room, girls had their stools on the right side. I can’t remember how it began or when, but at some point, a peculiar game somehow got started that involved sniffing another boy’s wee-wee. Probably as a challenge, some peer-pressure in the mix, but my memory serves me flashes of me bent over with my nose inches for a school mate’s penis, and smelling the odd scent of his glans, a mix of smegma and pee. At that age, we were only just being made aware by our parents of the importance of personal hygiene, and of washing behind our foreskin. I know now that this scent is always part of an uncut man’s aura, and for many an important part of their sex appeal, as long as indeed basic hygiene is respected. But for preschool kids, it was fascinating, it was taboo, and I remember it happening regularly and as often as we could get away with.
Exactly when this actually gained an oral aspect, I have no idea, but for sure when we were out of preschool, so 6 or 7 perhaps. It didn’t have any sexual meaning to us at that age, but it did feel good, that much I can remember. We didn’t get an erection yet, and certainly no orgasms. It just felt pleasant, an extraordinary tickling that you didn’t want to stop, and that filled your belly with butterflies.
I remember vividly how my friend and me hid in certain places that allowed us enough privacy to indulge in this forbidden play. Even though we were too young to appreciate the true nature of what we were doing, we instinctively understood that this was something we didn’t want our parents or anyone else to find out about.
During those summers, there was one friend in particular I spent a lot of time with. We usually just started out playing in the meadows behind his house, chasing each other, hide and seek, often with other boys from the neighborhood enlarging the pack. When one after the other left for home or other adventures, him and me stayed behind, alone to play that other game we had grown fond of. The large grassy fields lay secluded behind the gardens of a neighborhood still under construction, and offered us plenty of concealment . So we would lay in a dent in the tall stems, our pants down to our ankles, taking turns in sucking the other’s penis, the beneficiary counting up to a hundred in the agreed upon tempo, at which point the roles would be reversed. On a typical day of this, we’d switch turns maybe a dozen times, just enjoying the sensation of the sucking, and the strange but not unpleasant taste and texture of another boy’s penis. Like I said, it didn’t occur to us that there was anything sexual about this, not for the first few years, not until we left elementary school behind us and went off to high school.
I had other play partners. At some not insignificant risk, I used to ask other boys in my circles of friends if they’d play my special game with me. The responses were mixed. Some were outright repulsed by the idea - I even got told on a few times with none too severe consequences to my reputation I can gladly add - though most just dismissed it. I can’t blame them. Thinking about it now, I can imagine how outlandish it must have sounded when some kid asked you if you’d suck his penis, and in exchange he’d suck yours. But all taboo and awkwardness aside, I did find 2 or 3 other interested parties, so summers were rarely dull during that period in my life.

I remember one particular partner in crime, who was quite a few years older than me. He had been an early adolescent when we’d hang out together. I remember us concealing ourselves from prying eyes in a small marsh with lots of bushes and trees, the perfect place for me to break in a new playmate.

I did have a bit of a startle when he pulled out his wiener. Although far from being a man, he was no longer a boy. His cock was a lot bigger than mine or any of my other friends’. Were we just had tiny boy willies, I remember his being quite meaty and longish. He already had some pubic hair as well, and soon after I started sucking it, I was surprised to feel it grow larger and stiff in my mouth. I had no idea why that happened. I had erections myself of course - morning wood knows no age - but the connection didn’t occur to me at that time. Now I understand that at his age and stage of physical development, he must have had more of an understanding of the significance.

I stopped sucking that first time when the sensation of that stiffening cock registered. I told him I thought his cock was too big for our little game, but he assured me - or convinced me - that it would be even more fun than with the small willies of my other buddies. Had he been a few years older still, I’m sure I would have had to conclude, in retrospect, that exploitation had been on his mind rather than play. But he had been just a boy himself. Older, more mature, but a boy nonetheless. And I can’t say I didn’t enjoy the taste and feeling of his larger member. I sucked his half-erect cock - his foreskin still covering his gland - almost daily all through that summer. He never reciprocated though, but I didn’t mind. He’d lay back in the grass, pants off and thighs spread, probably trying to make sense of the awkwardness and mixed emotions. A boy in early puberty, becoming interested in girls no doubt, his first pre-sexual experience with another boy, trying to understand the sensation he felt in his groin. It would still be a few years before he’d start masturbating and bring himself to an orgasm. At that point our time together probably would come back to confuse him even more, but by then we’d have lost sight of each other. By the time I became interested in girls - really interested, in a sexual manner - and started pleasuring myself, those earlier years had mostly fled my contemplations; just a trivial fact, nothing that I felt defined me or needed to confuse me. After that summer, when I was maybe 9 or 10, opportunity kind of diminished to near zero for a while.

The first time it really became something sexual was with the one it had all started with, the boy my age I had spent those first summers hunched in the tall grass with. I’ll call him Dave for the sake of this narrative.

During the last years of elementary school and the first years of high school, we had grown somewhat apart. He was a lot more popular than me, both with our other friends and with the girls. When we were in our early teens, he had been kissing girls and feeling them up - not much else I’m sure - while I still hadn’t outgrown the giggles when around the subject of the other sex and the things boys and girls do together. We still hung out, but not nearly as often as before, and hardly ever just the two of us. When we were 14-ish, the hot topic had been masturbation. Some of the boys our age had started doing that and bragged about it, while others, myself included, still needed to figure out the what and the why of this mythical ritual. I had been touching myself in a self-pleasuring way already, but apart from some maladroit jerking on my stiff cock, I was still to uncover the finesses, and although I managed to achieve something remotely resembling an orgasm, it was clear that my discovery phase had only just begun. But I was fascinated, and the time was definitely ripe. Or ripening. I fantasized about girls, looked at suggestive drawings in comic books and would rewind fragments of taped movies that featured a bare breast or an obscured lovemaking scene. Anything to keep an erection going long enough for me to try once more to have a proper ejaculation, something that I’d heard Dave talk about but that still eluded me for some reason. We’d been getting sexual education in class of course, and like all boys our age - presumably - we’d gotten our hands on the odd discarded porn magazine, so I knew what was supposed to be happening, at least technically. But I still lacked the skill, though not the practice. Dave on the other hand, boasted plenty of skill. He was taller than me at that age - though not anymore - and had started broadening before me, sporting broad shoulders and strong arms and legs, while I just got taller but remained a boy in all other aspects. Where I was afraid to talk about my clumsy first victories conquering myself, he confidently talked about
beating his meat
, about how hard and long his stiff cock was, and about how he would
squirt sperm
in thick long plumes into the air when he
came
. These were magic words to me then, the lingo of boys who had transgressed into early manhood, vernacular forbidden to the likes of myself. But peer pressure ruled our social life in those days, and for all I knew, Dave was just bragging himself without much to brag about, although I was sure he hadn’t been, not Dave. And it would turn out he hadn’t.

One weekend day we ended up alone in the abandoned play yard of our old elementary school. We used to hang out there with a more diverse group of young people, boys and girls mixed, no longer just the crowd from the old neighborhood, but others from other schools and other circles as well. And we didn’t play games like hide and seek or tag like we used to. Now hanging out was exactly that -
hanging out
. Just loitering, talking about this and that, and most importantly, trying to impress and establish your rank in the social group. Dave’s rank was all the way up there, of course. And for old times’ sake, he didn’t mind tolerating me in his shadow. I was a clumsy and awkward teenager, and always trying too hard to be accepted by the
in-crowd
. Guess that would never change in my adult years.
Prior to what would happen that day, I had never entertained the thought that I might have been gay, or even bisexual. Like any boy my age, I had some phases to go through I guess. The ease with which I would become infatuated by girls alleviated any insecurities I might have had in that respect. I was madly in love with one or several girls all the time, but of course my yearnings never got me anywhere, I was too ill-adapted for that. Homo, or faggot, or cock sucker, were just meaningless swear words to us. We had as much an accurate idea of what a homo was than of what we had to do with girls. So it never crossed my mind or caused me any internal reflection - nothing worth mentioning anyway.
Dave and I stayed behind after all others had left. Talking about nothing in particular. I must have been trying to bring the topic of masturbation up, as I was fascinated by his earlier recounts of his latest wank job. So I just asked him to show me.
“Hey Dave, care to show me how you wank? Just, you know…to compare?”
“Why, you don’t know how?” he said a little mockingly? He was well aware that he was my social better, and had the nasty habit of gaining popularity at my expense.
But now that we were alone, I felt I could be a little more open.
“It’s just, I do it all the time, but it always takes me a long time to come, you know. Maybe…we could just…I don’t know, wank together?”
Couldn’t believe I let those words leave my mouth. I was sure he was going to scoff and walk away, and tell everyone so I’d be the laughingstock of the town by morning. But he didn’t. He did hesitate a bit, and eyed me a little suspiciously, but eventually just shrugged.
“Sure, why not”, he said, and started unzipping his pants.
I started telling him how I thought my dick was already quite big (I really did think so), but just stopped talking as soon as he pulled his briefs down and let his cock spring free. I hadn’t known what to expect, but certainly not that! His penis was fully erect; a swollen red pole with a throbbing purple head, veins winding around his long and thick shaft. I had only seen an erect penis fleetingly in a porn mag, but never in real, and certainly never up close. Did I actually say wow? I probably did, out loud maybe, but certainly in my mind.
He picked up my admiration - he had probably expected it - and slowly started stroking, grinning.
“OK, your turn, let’s see what you got”
I obliged immediately, opened my zip with clumsy fingers and tried a little in vain to feign the same level of confidence when I pulled out my own cock. I guess I indeed wasn’t that small, but compared to him…let’s just say he was a few years ahead of me in more than just shoulders and interest from the girls.
He grinned once more, but not in a belittling way, and started masturbating with slow and deliberate strokes. I joined in, and we stood there jacking off for a couple of minutes. I couldn’t keep my eyes off his cock, and watched mesmerized how it slid in and out of his fist, his foreskin moving from and over his glans. I increased my tempo, and became aware of my mouth watering. But before I even got close to an orgasm, he started panting and stroking faster himself. He buckled with his pelvis a few times, and with a loud groan he ejaculated, thick long plumes of sperm shooting from his cock, indeed just like he had bragged about.
This time I definitely did say wow out loud, my voice rich with admiration and fascination.
He squeezed the last drops of sperm from his head, shook off and stood with his hands on his hips, his deflating cock still hanging out of his open pants.
I was still pulling my own cock, but I knew nothing was going to happen. I gave it another minute, but it seemed futile. I was actually going limp myself, without even feeling the preamble of an orgasm. I closed my eyes and envisioned the scene I had just witnessed, his big hard cock moving in his hand, his ejaculation spewing almost half a meter into the air. And then a strange thing happened. I imagined his cock moving in and out of my mouth…I fantasized about sucking his cock once more, not the teeny boy weeny it had been about half our lives ago, but this thick, fully erect man meat he sported now. I imagined his orgasm not touching the air, but touching the back of my mouth and my tongue. And I guess that’s what sent me over the top. I got fully rigid in a matter of seconds, and not much more than a minute later, I had an orgasm myself. Not the exuberant fountain of sperm he had demonstrated just a few minutes earlier, but still it was one of the more successful launches of my brief career.
“There, see?” he said, with a strange mix of victory and pride, not for himself but for me.
“Looks like you’re doing just fine.”
“I guess so”, I said a little sheepishly. I tapped off like he had done, and started tucking away. He still stood there though, in the same defiant pose, his cock no longer limp but hardening yet again.
“Wanna go for best two out of three?” He was definitely mocking me know. I couldn’t imagine going again so quickly, certainly not since I had spent so much effort the first time.
Then, words again left my mouth before my mind could stop them. “You remember the time…we used to, you know…suck?”
He shrugged once again, not appalled, but dismissing it as irrelevant. Or so he tried.
“Sure I remember, but that was years ago. We were just kids.” By now his cock was a raging boner again.
“You still think about that?”
He hesitated noticeably, a little taken aback. “Sometimes. Why do you ask?”
And there were those words again, running off before I had given them permission.
“Want me to suck you? like I used to?”
He swallowed, his hand unconsciously moving down to his cock again, probing his erection. His cock definitely said yes, I could tell when it jumped up and down as he gently started squeezing it.
I had crossed a border anyway, so when his reply didn’t come immediately, I just approached him, dropped to my knees and closed my mouth over his pecker. He let his hands fall beside him and sighed in surrender.
I started sucking him like I used to, like drinking from a straw, but his cock definitely wasn’t the soda straw it once was. It was thick and hard, tasted of what I realized must have been his semen, and immediately filled my mouth completely, punching in the back of my throat as he started rocking his pelvis back and forth in cadence with my sucking rhythm.
I guess neither of us had any experience with what we were doing or why, but the days of innocent play lay about seven years in the past now. I knew I was giving him a blowjob, as the term had been added to our vocabulary in recent years. I realized this was sex. He did too, because he panted and sighed, and moved his cock in and out of my mouth like he had done with his fist. He gently put his hands on either side of my head and started guiding me. Still in a slow, purposeful tempo, but deeper in my mouth now, rocking back and forth.
While before his glans had always been covered by his foreskin, it was bare and hot in my mouth now, like a ripe yet meaty and solid piece of fruit.
I was partly detached from all physical awareness - I probably had a new erection bulging my pants, but never noticed, nor did I mind my knees getting scraped - and part hyper receptive to the input from my senses. I felt the bottom of his cock slide over my tongue, and every vein and lump passing between my lips in slow motion and high definition. His smell and taste - both familiar and soothing, yet somehow new now and full of promise - permeated my nasal cavity and palate. It had been a few years since I had sucked cock, but it never was anything like this. The lingering taste of his seed added a whole new dimension to the memory of before, and I was determined to let the vision of him coming in my mouth be a self-fulfilling prophesy. That too made this extra special, as it was the first time that this was an actual sexual thing; by now there was no doubt it was sex, and no doubt he was going to have another orgasm, minutes from now, in my mouth. I almost went crazy with impatience and anticipation. I felt light headed, spoiled and honored. What I certainly didn’t feel was confusion, or shame, or anything in any way diminishing this revisit to our early childhood nostalgia.
I started sucking harder, he started pushing his cock in harder and deeper. I certainly had nothing in way of experience giving a real blowjob, and this was becoming a real deepthroat. I choked and let him slip out of my mouth. So far I had only touched him with my mouth, so while I caught my breath, readying for the final lap, I put one hand around his cock and peeled off his pants with my other. I pumped his dick in my fist, it was slippery from my spit. His pants had fallen over his knees now, he thrust his pelvis out and parted his thighs to give me access.
I had never before noticed another boy’s sack. I grabbed it in my free hand and started kneading his big sensitive nuts. I imagined the cum building up in there, and let out an audible groan from desperate longing. I plunged my mouth over his pole again, determined now to finish the job. I knew he couldn’t take much longer. I let him fuck my mouth at his own pace, grabbed his firm soccer buttocks and pulled him onto my face. Deepthroating him came surprisingly easily, and after the initial choke, I felt in total control of my reflexes. I applied as much suction and friction with my tongue and lips as I could, groaning, begging him to cum.
I had no idea what went through his mind, no clue as to what he was feeling. But I did know that he loved it, and that he was ready. So was I.
I braced myself as his movement became erratic. I felt his butt clench in my hands. This was it.
He grabbed my head again, no longer gently, and fucked my mouth faster and wilder, groaning louder and louder with every pump. I tasted his seed as it touched my tongue, first a little, but a few seconds after those first drops he shot a thick, scolding hot jet of creamy sperm in my mouth. Once, twice, and a third time before it abated to a trickle. He had let go of my head and stood there, panting and with his knees buckling. Now it was him that uttered a well-meant wow. I finished him off, stroking him with my fist. I sucked every last drop from his cock and swallowed it all. It tasted unlike anything, better than I had dared dream. I knew then that I was hooked.
I kept sucking him until I felt him go limp in my mouth. Without an effort to hide my regret, I let him take a step back and pull up his pants. I stood up and just waited, for a response. I had no clue what that response would be. Anger, shame, mockery…but he just smiled at me. A smile filled with friendship and camaraderie.
“That was definitely the hardest orgasm I ever had. I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Neither did I”, I retorted. “But now we know.”