Dotting the “I” in bi

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…