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The guy and I are both spent and sated... but he's still asking me about my brother and wondering how we could still have sex with each other despite having some major hate between us and... I didn't know how to answer him or put it into words that made sense. I did tell him what my brother had told me when I asked him this very question: "When I need some dick, you're still the best at giving it to me - but I still don't like you."

And I accepted it. I had long since reasoned that if this was the only way we could get along with each other, okay - I can live with it. I told the guy that I'd never turn him down when he came to me for sex - and he said that he wished that his brother had been like that and expressed regret that their time with each other was so short.

I meet with this guy and we really hit it off and... off to a hotel room to have carnal knowledge of each other. We spent the first hour together sucking each other off and me having to keep waving off his apologies over not being that good at sucking cock which, honestly, he wasn't that good at it but he had great enthusiasm and quickly picked up on how I was sucking him.

After sucking each other off, he had asked, "Was your brother a good cocksucker?"

"Yeah, he was," I said. "After that first time, there weren't too many days when we weren't sucking on each other's dick - he really liked swallowing my cum - and fucking each other, which was easy because we shared a bed at the time; we'd later get bunk beds and that made things a little more difficult, but we managed. He could suck me really good because he was doing it a few times a day and almost every day."

He allowed that him and his brother spent more time fucking each other than sucking; just doing that to get each other hard enough to penetrate but never as a thing to do all by itself.

"I wish that I'd been your brother," he said quietly. "I could have learned so much from you..."

We fucked; he went 'hard and fast' while I went easy and slow and he asked me if this was the way I fucked my brother and I said that it was because... that's the way we always did it even if we were in a hurry so as to not get caught.

"He always told me how much he liked feeling me inside of him," I said. "He... still had an issue about my dick being longer and fatter than his even though I had tried to explain to him how that works genetically - just because our father had a big dick didn't mean that both of us would have big dicks and, well, mine was bigger than his." It was a running joke between us but, yeah, he had some penis envy going on but that never made him less eager to have sex with me or I with him.

At first, what it was like was a pain in my ass that I didn't like one bit. He had followed me one day and saw me having sex with one of my male friends - sneakily, of course - and he started begging and bugging me to "do it to him" as well... and I refused because I knew that our parents would beat me to death.

But I eventually caved in. I thought that if I really do it to him, then that'll freak him out and he'll stop bugging me and, well, it didn't work. I had taken him to a hideout and sucked his dick; at 8, he wasn't cumming of course but in between giggling and saying that it tickled, he said that it made him feel really good. Then he sucked my dick and his only real complaint was that my dick was way bigger than his - but he got right to it and I had decided not to let him know when I was going to shoot my stuff into his mouth because if that doesn't get him off my case, I didn't know what would.

I came and he slurped it all right down and thought it was really cool that I could do it - and did I know when he would be able to? I didn't, of course, but now he wanted to fuck so I showed him where his dick was supposed to go - he couldn't get it in me, though but settled for humping me between my cheeks and... he was having fun and telling me how good it felt and was I gonna stick it in him?

He didn't flinch or cry out when I stuck it in him and fucked him until I shot my stuff (that made him giggle) and he wanted to do it more often.

I'm telling the guy about this and he's lol'ing over me being pestered by a little brother and I had to laugh about the memory. But I told him, "What it was like was... really nice and familiar and, again, despite how wrong it was and in two ways. He was always there, always wanted to have sex and we were really good with each other, but I figured it was to be expected since we knew each other so well and as brothers tend to do."

I'd "met" a guy online who was looking to do some cocksucking with a like-minded guy and one of the things I always asked guys who contacted me was how they got started in this, not so much to pry but someone's first time has always fascinated me. He tells me he first had sex with a guy when he was 24 and I was thinking, "A little late but okay!" but then he comes out and tells me that his first experience was with... his fraternal twin brother!

He tells me this and starts apologizing and saying that knowing this weirds me out, well, we don't have to do anything, and I tell him not to be ridiculous because (1) I know many guys whose first time was with their brother(s) and (2) my first time wasn't with my own brother but we got into it and were into it off and on until he died in 1985.

He had admitted that him and his twin wondered why it took them so long to do this with each other and finding out that they'd always wanted to but were afraid to mention it to each other and then said that they got busy with each other for a couple of months before giving it up for other sexual pursuits.

He asked me what it was like to have a brother as a longtime lover and, at the time, I hadn't really given it a lot of thought; we got started with it and, well, just never gave it up and despite having gotten caught by our mom. I mean, it was what it was and I was aware that having sex with him seemed to be the only time we really got along with each other - and I had told the guy this but he was really asking about how comfortable it was and other such things.

I really had to think about that aspect...

I'm less than a year short of being bisexual for six whole decades and in that time, I've... seen a lot. I've done a lot. I've learned even more. I have zero regrets about anything I've done because... I understand it all. I understand why our morality is the way it is about men having sex with each other and if anything about being bisexual is bothersome, it's how we, on the whole of things, have learned nothing about sex and sexuality and how we keep holding onto that religious bullshit.

No regrets. No guilt. I've had an amazing amount of sex with men but the biggest takeaway is what I've learned in all of these things...

While most of my peers were just finding out about sex at 16, I was... an old hand at it. I knew way more about it than they did and sometimes guys and gals would come to me to find out what I knew and... could I show them? I sure could! When The Drought would hit a lot of guys, I got to have sex with them; sometimes it was because they were curious about it and some had done it before but most guys were so desperate for sex that they'd take the risk of being labeled a faggot just to take care of their great need to have sex... and to stop their balls from hurting.

And learning that some of those guys would do anything from sucking me off to letting me fuck them but I was also learning how sex with guys would and could really fuck someone's head up and I didn't want to be the guy who made sex like this a nightmare for someone so... I started telling them the truth I was learning right from the start and would even try to talk some guys out of it because I knew it wouldn't be a good thing for them to do and, in the process, learned how to tell guys no and that there are some guys you just do not ever have sex with... and just like so many females were learning.

And I could understand why girls wouldn't want to and why they called us uncaring assholes because guys were doing the same thing to me that they'd do to a girl and... I could relate to women in this. You'd think that this would make having sex with women easier but it didn't all that much but, yeah - I knew what they did about us guys and knowing it changed a lot of things about me because I didn't ever want to be "that guy" but my luck with the ladies was pretty good because... I not only ate pussy but I was very good at it (and thanks to the older woman who schooled me in such things).

Being bisexual and in high school... wasn't even close to being easy but, you see, I knew that my high school peers believed in that bullshit I no longer believed in and I learned that they learned their angst from their parents and... it was all starting to really make sense to me... and I would find that becoming adult meant there was much more to be learned.

I'm not even 16 yet and I saw that bisexuality was teaching me a lot about sex and many other things and I was learning in ways that, I would think and laugh about - would make most people want to shit themselves and I was learning why we had the attitude about sex and sexuality and how it was all a lie of omission foisted on us by social and moral norms that made sense but didn't tell the whole story.

And then I got caught having sex with my brother by our mother. For us, it was just another night and one that began with us sucking each other off and then taking turns fucking each other. He had fucked and creamed me and I loved the way he fucked me; we'd changed places and I'd dick deep in him and listening to him telling me how good it was feeling when out of nowhere I hear, "What in the hell are you doing!?"

Uh-oh. My brother and I knew that if we ever got caught, I was going to get the shit beaten out of me because I was the oldest; we both agreed that no one would believe that us having sex was his idea and now our greatest fear just became real and I waited to get the shit beaten out of me and... that didn't happen but I did get a scolding that to this very day, makes me cringe to remember what she said to me. After she read me the riot act, um, me and my brother went right back to what we were doing because now that we'd gotten caught, might as well keep doing it but later and as I laid in my bed reliving the whole thing, I realized that... she knew that I was having sex with boys and even knew what me and my brother were doing and picked that moment to make it stop since, I figured, I was now past the age where having sex like this was allowable - and I was 14.

That just added to the stuff I was learning about sex and sexuality and every time I thought I had a good grip on this, I'd learn that I didn't and would learn even more about being bisexual and having sex both ways; a woman who was easily three times my age took me in hand to show me how to have sex with girls and especially how to eat them silly and... I didn't think there was anything wrong with us having sex but I'm sixteen and she's in her 50s and, morally, had no business even talking to me about sex, let alone having it with me but at this point in things, I was learning that if you didn't mind, it didn't matter.

By this time, eh, I wouldn't say that I was an expert when it came to being bisexual but I understood it; homosexuals were very much hated but I understood them, too; I would turn other guys on to this and they'd wind up being bisexual like me and I learned something about being straight and the many things that would and could make a guy not want to be straight and, usually, due to an inability to have sex with girls.

But I was overconfident and still a bit naive because I fell into a man's trap; he talked me into going home with him, gave me a soda to drink - and I'd gotten drugged with something and... he had sex with me and a lot of it before the drug wore off - and I felt that he didn't think it would wear off as fast as it did - and I tried to kill him for raping me; during the fight with him, a table leg got broken and I grabbed it and beat him with it until he stopped moving and I ran away and didn't care if he was just knocked out or I had killed him.

But because I understood why people had sex, I... didn't blame him all that much because it was my fault for being naive enough to fall into his trap. The "moral" of this part of the story is that many years later, I ran into him again and saw that he still bore the injuries I'd given him that day and the funny part was that I recognized him immediately - but that hadn't happened for him. He'd asked me if I had a light for his cigarette and I gave him one and waited to see if he would recognize me - and then he did. He pissed all over himself and I just looked at him before he literally ran off and I felt... vindicated but I had also realized that even though he got to me in an underhanded way, the sex he had laid on me was very good and he did nothing to really hurt me... but it was still my fault for being stupid.

And life would go on from there.