Dotting the “I” in bi

of
genre
bisexual

Driving my bike home, I can't say I wasn't at least a little confused. I had just given my best friend a blowjob after all. So many things about this seemed a little off. We were only forteen years old, but we both were, so that didn't really worry me. But we were boys. At fourteen, we hadn't been confronted with sexuality issues yet, apart from the axiom that gays or homos were somehow different than other people. In those days, everyone you knew had a mom and a dad, and we didn't know any homosexual people or couples. On top of that, homo was a swear word, so there had to be something wrong about being a homo, right?
But though a little confused, I wasn't worried. Sucking him had felt so good, emotionally as well as physically, that it never crossed my mind that there had been anything wrong with what had happened. This was a matter I had settled with myself years ago - I had been sucking cock since I was six - so I focused on enjoying the afterglow of this epic experience.
The taste of his sperm lingered in my mouth, heavy and tangy, not at all unpleasant. All the way home the sensations I had felt played before my mind's eye, like a 3D virtual reality immersive experience. The feel of his boner deep in my mouth, punching in my throat, my tongue sliding over the bottom of his cock, circling his head, that first taste of his cum, those first creamy drops, followed by the pulsing jets filling my belly…I felt the attachment with my own body reassert itself with a vengeance, as I became painfully aware of the raging boner in my pants. Even though I had cum myself not half an hour earlier, my balls were aching and my cock was cramped in my jeans. I knew my mom would make me come at the dinner table immediately when I got home, so there'd be no time to get some quick relief. But I'd have the blue balls all evening unless I did, so before turning into my own street, I shot in a back alley, drove about a hundred meters to where there was a depression in the thicket lining the back sides of the gardens of my street, and jumped off my bike. I struggled with my zip. It seemed I had lost all feeling in my fingers. By now the pain was becoming almost unbearable. I finally managed to free my cock and balls, and gingerly started stroking. My nuts felt like they had been hit by a hammer. This was purely a technical intervention. Nothing erotic about it, my mind was blank. None of the images that had followed me home were here now, and I didn't need them. My dick was harder than ever before, and in less than a minute of frantic jacking off, my overheated balls pumped their load through my sore shaft. Not the impressive fountain I had expected. Hardly a trickle, a few hesitant rivulets of opaque sludge, but it did bring some immediate relief from the torture between my legs.

I had gotten some on my fingers. In an impulse I licked it off and savored it on my tongue for a few seconds before swallowing it. Didn't taste quite as good as Dave's, but it reinforced the flavor that had been fading from my mouth.

My balls were still sensitive, but it was bearable now. I made myself decent, checked to see if I hadn't gotten any jizz on my pants, and went home.

During dinner, all I could think of was Dave's cock and how it had felt in my mouth. I can't say I was thinking about Dave himself. No matter how I searched my feelings, I can't say I felt anything other than friendship for him. I wasn't in love with him. I knew I never could be, not like how I felt about girls all the time. See, this was a time before the internet. Before porn, sex stories and LGBT. Everything we knew about sex came from rumours, whispers and wishful thinking. I had just landed in puberty, trying to figure out how to approach girls, trying to become acquainted with my own body, and then this happened. So my conclusion, reflecting back on my younger years, was that I just loved cock. Nothing more, nothing less. And that was OK. I was OK with it. So during dinner that matter was settled once and for all. I emptied my plate, excused myself and went up to my room. I hung my "I'm Studying" sign outside the door and locked it. I undressed and lay on my bed. I masturbated slowly, going over every detail again of that afternoon, and this time I did have that exquisite gusher that had eluded me up to now. I could feel my balls retract into my belly seconds before I would cum, like the tendon of a bow pulled back until maximum tension, and with a sigh that I'm sure they must have heard downstairs, all that tension was released. In three or four throbbing spasms by balls emptied into the air, my ejaculation drawing a wide arc, thick globs of milky sperm covering my belly and chest. I kept stroking my relieved cock long after the last drop had smeared my hand, until I went limp. I sagged in my mattress and took a moment to catch my breath. I looked at the mess I had made, but instead of going for my box of tissues (for my running nose, mom) I started scooping it all up with my hands and licked it off my fingers. I savered it as intensely as I could, enjoying the salty taste, and remembering how Dave's cum had filled my mouth. I kept going until all that was left was a sticky film covering my skin, my mouth tingling, my head spinning. Because I had been thinking about Dave shooting his load in my mouth while I ate my own, my cock had gotten rock hard once more. I tried for a few minutes to jerk off again, but I fell asleep, naked on top of my bed, my cock in my hand…
I woke up in the middle of the night, somewhere around 4AM. I had to pee like a horse. I unlocked my door, sneaked naked across the landing to the upstairs toilet - trying not to wake my parents - but when I arrived at the bowl and took my penis to take that piss, I noticed it was hard as marble. My blatter almost bursted, but try as I might, I didn't succeed in pushing my cock down enough to aim at the toilet. I tried several acrobatic positions, but when I found something in way of a near-horizontal lean over the bowl, the piss just wouldn't flow. My cock was painfully hard, so ignoring the pressure in my belly, I started stroking it yet again. I was too sleepy to give it much thought, just let some generic cock-imagery flash through my mind, and I came in under three minutes. No jet of seemen this time, just a few ropy drips that caused my boner to lose rigidity quickly. I had to wait another minute and felt incredible relief when the urine finally started flowing. I emptied my bladder, surprisingly without spilling a drop on the seat or on the floor, and staggered back to my room. I drew the covers over my naked body this time, and immediately fell back asleep.
On my way to school, I was convinced that everyone would start laughing and pointing as soon as I set foot on the schoolyard. Dave, in his endless climb up the social ladder, was sure to have told everyone about what had happened, or at least the part where I had practically begged him to let me suck him. I'd be the laughingstock for the rest of the year for sure, wearing the well-earned label of homo, for ever known as the cock sucker.
But none of that happened. As usual, hardly anyone noticed my arrival. I put my bike away, and joined a group of my classmates.
All day long in class, Dave completely ignored me. He didn't talk to me, hardly awarded me more than a fleeting glance, in no way give anyone reason to suspect that anything groundbreaking had happened between us the other day.
Unlike how I would act when I was in love with a girl - which was practically all the time, including that time - I did nothing to attract his attention. The girl that was currently the subject of my erotic fantasies sat behind me, and I would be turning around constantly, any excuse good enough to scan the classroom, and catch a glimpse of her pretty face and gorgeous smile. She never smiled at me though, just smiled and giggled as she was silently talking with the friend she sat next to. But as I stole glances of her, what my mind saw was Dave's cock dangling in front of my face. It was really distracting. I tried to concentrate on what the teacher was telling us in the front - something about pars pro toto, whatever the hell that was - but all I heard was cock - cock - cock…
I looked at Dave a few times, but if he had at all been distracted or thinking about yesterday, he sure hid it well. It was a tough day for me. By the time the final bell rang, my head was buzzing, and my balls were soar again from the half-erection I'd been having all day.
While everyone hurried off for home, I decided to go to the toilet to give myself some relief before getting on my bike. Bike rides and unrelenting boners don't mix well.
The toilet building was empty. I entered a booth at the far side, but before I could close it behind me, the door opened and Dave pushed in, pinned me against the wall with his body and locked the door behind him.
I was surprised and exhilarated at the same time. I hadn't expected this at all, but the prospect of sucking his cock again almost overwhelmed me. I was prepared for anything, for letting him forcefully fuck my mouth again, and let him shoot his delicious cum all over me. But instead of letting me sit on the lid, and open his pants, he grabbed me by the collar with both hands and almost lifted me off the floor.
"Look, I don't know what you think happened yesterday, but it was nothing, OK! If you ever as much as hint at it to anyone, I swear I will…"
"You will what?!" My audacity surprised him, as well as myself. He had always been stronger than me, and a lot meaner. Although I considered him my friend, I'm sure to him I was just an annoying run-along, a legacy from his childhood that he was now stuck with, despite himself. He would act amicably enough when we were alone, but as soon as a third person showed up, it was like some primitive instinct got the better of him, making him try to assert himself over me every time. I hated him for it, but I was also desperate for acceptance and belonging. So I usually tolerated his wims. But I never let him dominate me without putting up a fight.
"You will what?", I insisted, a little less defiant this time. He was shaking like a reed, from anger I assumed, but he let go of me and took half a step back in the cramped little booth.
"No one can ever find out about this, you hear!" He still attempted to make it sound intimidating, but I heard the insecurity creeping in his voice.
"Hey," I soothed, "don't tell me you didn't like it. You don't just stick your dick in someone's face unless you like it."
He may have been taller and stronger, but I had always been smarter and more insightful than him. And I was right on the money. He didn't scare me. Sometimes I felt sorry for him. But not now. Now he just made me thirsty. He didn't resist when I approached him, and just surrendered when I started to unzip his pants. I peeled it over his knees straight away and let it fall to his ankles. This time I did sit down on the toilet lid, and grabbed the elastic of his undies, pulled it down slowly until his erection jumped out of its cage like a tormented locked up snake that was finally set free.
I was in no hurry. And I knew he wasn't either. He leaned back against the door and pushed his hips out. I righted myself off my seat enough to lower my own pants, and give my own cock some room to breath. I had never seen a porn movie, or a photoset of a blowjob. I just followed my instincts, and let my desire to feel and taste his pecker direct my actions. I started stroking his cock slowly and deliberately, squeezing him in my fist and pulling his foreskin as far back as it would go. I had a good look at his meat - it was still big, but not the impressive monster it had seemed yesterday - and circled my tongue around his head, leaving glistening spit to lubricate the massage I gave him.
He sighed and put his hands on my head, not guiding me but just letting me have my way. Total surrender. My tongue kept drawing circles while I closed my lips around his boner and slowly lowered my mouth over his shaft, until he hit the back of my throat. I stayed there for about half a minute, sucking vigorously with his glans just at the entrance of my gullet, grinding my head and discerned the first taste of what I though had to be precum. (we had learned about that). I loved it.
I drew back slowly and intensified the vacuum by sucking in my cheeks and applying as much force with my tongue as I could.
I had no idea what I was doing, yet somehow I knew I was doing it exactly right. Keeping the vacuum going, I started moving back and forth over his bender, my tongue lapping his underside, my hands now again grabbing his ass cheeks and pulling him ever deeper in me with every pass.
I had intended to give him a long and slow blowjob this second time, more for the sake of my own enjoyment than for his, but not long after I had let his glans pas further and further in my throat - no choking this time - he started buckling and groaning. I wanted a decent taste of his cum this time, so I let him slip out of my mouth all but his head, and sucked it while I vigorously stroked his shaft with one hand, the other hand cupping his balls and running them between my fingers. His breath faltered, he clenched every muscle in his body and with a loud roar he pumped an enormous load of his delectable juice between my hungry lips. I caught it all in my mouth, stroking him methodically to make sure I had every last drop, and closed my eyes. I concentrated on the sensation of the mouthful of his fragrant sperm, and savored the texture and flavor before swallowing it down. My mouth now empty, I put his dick in again and sucked him a little more, concentrating on his sensitive glans, which caused him to shudder and buckle. I would have gone on sucking until he was hard again, and see if I could get another load out of him, but he gently pushed me away and mumbled something about having to get home. He fumbled to get his pants on, eyed me a little uneasily while zipping up, and turned around to open the door. He stepped out, hesitated for a second, and turned around.
"Sorry, I have to go. Meet me in the shed behind my house after dinner. We'll do this right."
He was gone, leaving me with nothing but a leaking boner and the taste of his orgasm on my tongue.
I did what I came here for, jerked off until I had an unsatisfactory orgasm. Pulled my pants back up, stood in front of the mirror, and gave myself a congratulatory wink.
"After dinner…sure…"
written on
2015-09-28
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