The ”I” in bi

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.