I couldn't get over how different his lips felt than a girl's, and it occurred to me all the girls I had kissed must have always worn some kind of lip gloss or something, and this was the first time I was feeling real human lips, unadorned. I felt his tongue in my mouth and the scratch of stubble on his face, which alarmed me at first but quickly felt like home. The salty wet softness of his tongue against mine, this was kissing, this molten, transcendent, volcanic thing that I had thought I had done plenty of times before but had always been an echo, a fragment of the real event. I felt like I had always been looking at kissing through a foggy, smeared window, and now that window had lifted. I wondered if this was how straight boys felt when they kissed girls, but then thought there was no way they could ever know just how good this felt, because in addition to the bliss of carnal physicality, it was also taboo, a forbidden act, which of course made it that much better. When boys kiss girls they're just following the mold. When boys kiss each other, they challenge the universe.
Thanks to Jose for discovering this quote!
(and no, nothing happened this Pride weekend)