It’s raining today and I had to go (1) take out some trash and (2) go to the UPS Store and the moment I got into the rain, I had a major flashback that hit me so hard, I actually stopped walking for a moment and shaking my head as if I’d just woken up.
Or got hit in the head with something.
A memory of being outside on an early September weekend and enjoying not being in school. Ripping and running all over the neighborhood, literally chasing girls – and who knew they could be so damned fast? – and… it started to rain. Lightly at first but it started to pour and at the level where you knew you were going to get wet so there was no sense in trying to run for cover.
And, later, making me understand why I’d hear adults say that someone doesn’t have the sense to come out of the rain, which is exactly what a friend’s father said to the two of us after yelling at us to get our asses inside and out of the rain. We’re both classically soaked to the bone and we’re laughing about it; his dad, of course, didn’t think it was funny and he’s griping at us to take our wet shoes off and go get dried off – and don’t drip anymore damned water on his floor!
We comply and head to his room, still laughing about getting caught out in the rain. We both strip down naked; when I say we were soaked, it was like we’d jumped into a swimming pool with our clothes on. The good thing about it was we wore the same size clothes. The better thing about it was it took a while before we wound up getting dressed.
We’re naked and drying off and still laughing like idiots when he said, “I like your dick!” I automatically looked at his and said that I liked his, too. We went from liking each other’s dicks to commenting on how nice they looked because now we were both very erect from all the rubbing we were doing to get dry down there. This guy wasn’t one of “the fellas” I’d routinely have sex with so seeing him naked – and being naked in front of him – was kinda thrilling.
When he said, “Hey, um…,” I knew what he was going to ask me so I just said, “Yeah, okay.” His face lit up with a big smile as he walked over to me, knelt down, and started sucking my dick and he clearly knew what he was doing.
“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he said when he came up for air. “Let’s get on the bed!”
“Can we do it together?” I asked, climbing onto his bed.
“Sure!” he replied as he laid down alongside me and with his feet near my head… and we went for it and it didn’t take too much effort or time before I felt the warmth of his stuff flowing into my mouth which enticed me to get my own stuff flowing. We let each other go and we’re smiling and giggling (and I’m wondering why we always did that after shooting); it’s raining harder outside and now there’s rumbles of thunder along with flashes of lightning and it all just added to this moment of us discovering that we were the same kind of guy.
We can hear his dad downstairs yelling at us that it’s raining like a bitch and for us to stay inside and in his room until the rain lets up as well as grumbling about something I knew neither of us were paying attention to because the looks we were giving each other said that we’d be happy to stay in the room until the rain stopped because we would definitely keep ourselves occupied.
We’d sucked each other off three times before it finally decided to stop raining and we both knew that we’d better hurry up and get dressed and, at the least, act like we were doing something other than what we’d been doing. We had both agreed that each other’s stuff tasted really good and we were both laughing and giggling like idiots again after he said that he didn’t need to eat anything because he was full already.
His dad is bellowing that the rain has stopped so I need to get my shit and head on home before it starts raining again and I did that but, deep down inside, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to spend more time sucking my friend’s dick and thinking about him maybe doing it to me almost had me hard again and let’s say that I wasn’t happy about having to head home. He saw the look on my face and it was like he was reading my mind when he said, “Don’t worry – we’re definitely gonna find a way to do this again and I really want to!”
As I’m leaving, I thank his father for letting me stay there until the rain stopped and promised to bring back the borrowed clothing as soon as I was able to. My friend came over and actually gave me a hug, which had his dad laughing and telling him to stop that “sissy shit” so I could head on home. My sneakers, well, they were still soaked so it wasn’t like I was going to put them on but that was okay because I was used to being outside barefooted. I said my goodbyes and stepped out of the door to make the four-block walk home and before I got to the first corner, it started raining again.
Oh, great. By the time I got home, I wasn’t soaked but I was quite damp. My mom looks at me and mumbles that I really don’t have the sense to come out of the rain and notices that I’m holding the clothes I had had on when I went outside and, of course, wearing different clothes and, yep, I had to tell her why I was wearing someone else’s clothes and… off to my room I went to get out my friend’s clothes that were damp and get redressed in my own clothes and underwear. As I stepped out of the shorts I was wearing, I heard a crinkling sound and that told me that there was something in one of the pockets and after searching them, I found… a note.
It was from him, and it was a pretty long one, too, but now I’m wondering when he had time to write it and how he wrote it without me seeing him writing it. As I read it, I started to realize that he had already written this a while ago and it was like a love letter… to me. How much he really liked me. How he wished that we could find a way to do it to each other even though he liked girls, too, but some of the girls didn’t like him and didn’t want to do it with him and said again that he hopes that we could do it because he really liked me and wanted us to do it.
I’m remembering this note and I’m shaking my head and laughing at how… silly the note sounds to me now but also feeling quite sober because it wasn’t silly or funny at the time. It was… touching and more so on the heels of us having spent all that time sucking each other’s dicks and like we’d been doing that to each other all along. As I got to the end of the note – which ended with him saying that he hopes that I write him back and let him know how I feel and if I wanted to do it with him… so I grabbed my notebook and started writing to him.
I was telling him that even though we’d already done it, I hadn’t known that he liked guys and girls like I did and how glad I was that we were so much alike and… things got a bit mushy at that point and, at one point, I realized that I was writing a love letter to him and like I’d write one to a girl I liked and wanted to do it to. It felt weird but also quite exciting and my dick thoughts so as well because as I continued to write, I could feel my boner throbbing against my belly and trapped within my underwear and it was as if I could still feel his mouth on me and I could feel the raspiness of his tongue touching me everywhere and…
I, um, I shot in my underwear. Oh, man. I didn’t have to look down to know that there would be a big and very wet spot in the front of my shorts – and a wet spot that I knew my mom would notice when she went to wash my pants and underwear that were in great need of being changed. I went to the bathroom, stripped off my pants and underwear and spent a couple of moments cleaning the rest of my stuff off of me and, man, it had even and somehow gotten all over my stomach, too. Jeez! Back in the room; clean underwear and shorts on and having a bad moment because I knew my mother would notice that, once again, I wasn’t wearing the shorts I’d been wearing when she had stuck her head in my room to see what I was doing and, oh, boy.
As I climbed back up into my bunk, I spent a few years – seconds, really – thinking about how I’d had a wet dream one night and really messed up my underwear and PJs and my mom laughing when she found them in the hamper while telling me that, um, what had happened was normal for guys but I would, later in life, also remember the look on her face because she had realized that I was ejaculating way before boys “normally” did – but she hadn’t said anything about it and I’m glad she hadn’t because it was bad enough that she thought it was funny that I’d shot my stuff all over the place while I was sleeping.
I re-read the letter I’d written back to him – all three pages of it – and now I’m trying to figure out how to get it to him; we went to the same school but weren’t in the same room – but then, I had a brilliant idea; all I had to do was fold it up and put it in the pocket of his pants I’d worn home and make sure that I handed them back to him and not give them to one of his parents!
And that’s what I did and I got lucky because when I knocked on the door, he had answered it and I felt… relieved to know that he would find my letter because I made sure to hand the shorts to him so he could feel it in the back pocket. He did and his eyes got as big as saucers just before he started to smile. His mom was yelling for him and I said that I’d see him later and if he’d be allowed outside after doing his homework.
As I headed back home, I was so… excited because in my letter, I had told him that I would love to do it with him again and I even knew some places we could go to do it and we wouldn’t get caught and I felt like I wanted to shoot in my underwear again. It was a weird but good feeling thinking about him like this and I’d had a bit of a “bad moment” when I got home because my father had stopped me and asked if I’d taken the clothes back and I said that I had and he’s got this… look on his face like he wanted to bust out laughing and I didn’t know why until I looked down – and because he was looking down…
And I was hard. He didn’t say anything about it and I was glad he didn’t since I was already embarrassed but as he told me to go to my room, he did say, “You might want to do something about that…” And, yeah, as I headed to my room, I could hear him chuckling to himself. Jeez. How embarrassing!
And, yeah, I did make a trip to the bathroom to, um, do something about that and I did it with visions of doing it to my friend flooding my mind as I made quite the mess of things.
The older version of myself would one day wonder if what I had felt for my friend was love or just plain old ordinary lust. At that time, I thought that, nah, I didn’t love him because guys were only supposed to love girls but as I’m writing this now, yeah, maybe I was, at the least, seriously infatuated with him but what I do know that whatever it was we were feeling for each other made having sex really good and more so when there were a few times when we were able to convince a couple of the Hot In The Ass gang to come to the hideout so we could do it to them together and proof that he was, very much, just like me.
It was one of the reasons why, almost a year later, I was totally and completely pissed the fuck off to come home from camp and finding out that while I was there, we had moved to the projects way on the other side of the city.
I’m leaving the UPS Store and making the short walk to where I had parked and I’m getting rained on and just dealing with it because that damned stroke robbed me of my ability to run but I’d been reliving this memory just the same and… it felt good to have this memory triggered by today’s rainy moment. Those early days of my development as a male bisexual were some of the best times of my life because there was so much I had to do and make sense of and, well, just all of the stuff I went through so that I could better understand this bisexual thing going on with me and really beginning to understand how my feelings really worked or, actually, trying to understand them.
There were guys I liked and guys I really liked, and I was beginning to see… differences. How doing it with guys I liked made me feel one way but doing it with guys I really like made the sex so much better. There were “always” the guys who I’d do it with and, eh, I knew them and knew that if they wanted to do it, oh, okay, let’s go. Whatever sex we had would be… okay but not “as good” as having it with a guy I liked or a guy I really liked, and it took me a very long time before I could really put this into a proper perspective.
And, one day, finally understanding that I could feel for a guy the same things I could feel for a gal and it wasn’t as much as someone being male or female but very much about how I felt about someone, that the feelings were really more… interchangeable than what I was told about what I should feel, who those feelings should be directed at and even for the express purpose of having a relationship with them and one that would make any sex… allowable. And at yet another later day, realizing and understanding that friendship is… a relationship, too, and if it included sex, well, okay, even though the “rule” was and still is, “friends cannot have sex with each other.”
It would make me wonder that if you couldn’t or weren’t supposed to have sex with a friend, who were you supposed to have sex with – someone who wasn’t a friend? And, even then, despite the fact that, most of the time, you had to get to know and get comfortable with someone even if all that would happen would be… sex. They might not exactly be a friend in that sense, but I would recall a lot of instances where me and a guy – or a girl – would have sex and… become friends instead of it working the other way around.
Which makes me very damned glad that I learned this when I was younger so I wouldn’t find myself trying to deal with my feelings as an adult. Lust, it seems, doesn’t care much if the person you’re lusting after is a friend or not but I’d admit that lusting after a friend… feels pretty good but, again, I learned that you can have sex with a friend and it does not ruin the friendship one bit but what does and can ruin it is if someone wants more than what the other person is willing to give and usually a relationship. I’ve had girl friends – not girlfriends – tell me, “Let’s just have sex and it’s not going to be more than that!” One such friend told me, “Look, we both feel this and I don’t know why we’re acting like we don’t. I know you want me and I know I want you so let’s just do it and get it out of the way, okay?”
And, of course, not wanting to be in a relationship that was more than being friends was something that us guys were all in favor for. It would be like, I like you and, um, I was wondering if you’d be interested in doing something and if they were, it would be on and if they weren’t, oops. Sorry about that and it could be rather embarrassing but feeling the lust remained as a very real thing and one that our morals say is a sin and that’s not how we should think or feel about each other.
Those were some of the best days and times of my life because of what I learned about myself…