Hero Worship and Nocturnal Emissions

When I was a kid, I sometimes used to go stay with my Aunt & Uncle who also had a boy about my age, just slightly older. My cousin Michael had a single bed, so we used to ‘top-and-tail’, which we both thought great fun. Most nights, after lights-out, one of us would start tickling the other’s toes, which would lead to reprisals and joint fits of the giggles. Some nights, it would end up in a foot-fight, with one of us landing on the floor, along with the bedclothes, followed by a strict telling-off from my Aunt.

Even back then, I was fond of Michael but I never saw enough of him. But as I grew older, these visits kind of died out for some reason and it wasn’t until I was 18 that Michael came to stay with us for the first time. I too had a single bed and, remembering those times when we were kids, I was rather looking forward to Michael’s visit – although this time, I had another agenda entirely.

Having navigated with great difficulty my years of puberty long before the arrival of the ‘Internet’ and the wealth of information and naked pictures of young men that we have instantly at our disposal today, I was all too aware of my fascination with other guys, especially their willies and dangly bits, which I had often spied in the showers at college but at the time, I never identified as being ‘gay’; to me that was something quite different. Yes, I was sexually naïve, unbelievably innocent and painfully shy.

I masturbated of course; quite a lot actually, often in the shower, where I had discovered that just the action of the running water hitting my cock was more than enough to get me highly aroused and fully erect. I also learned that if I stood there long enough in the shower, concentrating, with the water playing on my organ, my whole body would eventually go into convulsions, as a wave of overwhelming pleasure would surge through me and, even without touching it, my cock would suddenly explode its creamy white fluid in great bursts all down the shower curtain. Only then would I touch my still swollen cock, to squeeze the last drops of cum into the running water, as I would watch the strings of spunk slithering down the plughole out of sight. The evidence of these regular aquatic misdemeanours would always be washed away. I was ashamed but at the same time fascinated by thoughts of other young guys doing the same thing. Every time I saw another young guy in the street or at work, I would find myself looking at his bulge or his bottom and imagining what they got up to in the shower or in the privacy of their bedroom. A voyeur was in the making.

So I was really looking forward to Michael’s visit and in particular, I was wondering how I could sneak a look at Michael’s ‘willy’. However, my Mum said that we were far too big to share a single bed anymore and she said that Michael could sleep in the spare bedroom, which had a double bed. I felt cheated and frustrated. I didn’t dare suggest that I sleep with Michael in the double bed, for fear that my secret would be revealed. But fate would lend a helping-hand, so to speak.

He arrived in the afternoon and my Dad & I picked him up from the bus station. Michael was slightly older and a bit taller than me but similar in looks – not surprising really, being my cousin. He was slim, like me, and he had ginger hair, brown eyes and freckles. Now though, standing there in the bus station with his week-end bag in one hand, he seemed much more mature and developed than I had expected. For a start, he was wearing tightly-fitting, beige cotton jeans which bulged in a particularly distracting way around his groin, where his balls were rather obviously divided by the seam in his jeans. There was also a pronounced ridge to one side, where his cock clearly nestled snuggly across the top of his groin. Already, I was besotted.

I wasn’t sure how to greet him. I hadn’t seen him in a long while and my Dad was there too, which made me even more self-conscious. But as soon as he saw us, he stepped forward, extending his hand politely to my Dad and then, quite to my surprise, he dropped his bag and grabbed me with both arms in what I could only describe as a ‘man-hug’. I was a bit taken aback.

“Hey, Carrots!” he said, recalling his teasing name for me, which he knew I hated. Mind you, I used to call him ‘Ginger Nuts’, in retaliation, although I never actually saw them, not ginger anyway; but all that now seemed rather too suggestive and with my Dad there too, no way was I going to call him that now!

I just grinned, stupidly. He stood back and patted me on the head, comparing our heights.
“Looks to me like you’ve not been eating your greens!” he quipped.

Now I was embarrassed and I felt my cheeks flush bright red.