The ”I” in bi

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.