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The inside of my thigh was damp and sticky, where I had oozed so much pre-cum inside my own pyjamas. The stuff was everywhere and Michael, meanwhile, had just rolled onto his stomach, on top of a load of his own spurting cum that had fallen on the sheets.

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PART TWO The next morning, my pyjamas showed little trace of the night before, although they were still slightly damp to my touch. Michael must surely have noticed that his pyjamas were undone when he got up but he appeared to pay it no mind.

He must have rolled onto his back again at some point in the night, because any signs of dampness had vanished, although he must surely have noticed, as I did, the slight stain in the middle of the bed where he had 'shot his load' in the night.

If he did, he didn't comment on it.


Goodness knows what my Mum was going to think! The next evening, we started playing Monopoly after tea and had to break the game to get ready for bed. As so often happens when only two people play Monopoly, the game was a bit 'tit for tat' but Michael had got Mayfair early on and when he eventually landed on Park Lane and was able to complete the set, he got quite excited because he already had enough money to build three houses on each. Eagerly, he leaned across the board towards me to put the houses in place and my heart jumped into my throat when I saw his penis sticking right out of his pyjama pants.

I was transfixed and he saw me looking.

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"Got a good look?" he taunted. I was embarrassed and I went red in the face. I tried to pretend it was nothing unusual. "I could hardly miss it," I said, "it nearly poked me in the eye!" That made him laugh and it seemed to take the tension out of the moment.

He just sat back and covered himself up; rather awkwardly, I thought.

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Eventually, the game reached a stalemate, with me landing on Mayfair or Park Lane and him landing on my orange and red sets every time he came out of Jail. But after catching a glimpse of his stiff todger, my heart wasn't really in the game and I readily conceded it to him and we soon settled down to sleep.

Lying there, thinking about last night, I couldn't get Michael's sticky nocturnal ejaculation out of my mind. Tonight was the last night of his visit and I was hoping for a repeat performance of the previous night's excitement.

That vision of Michael's stiff and glistening penis shooting its white fluid into my hand under the bedclothes was taunting my mind and I couldn't stop thinking about it.


I waited for him to be asleep and dreaming but he slept on his back most of the night and, eventually frustrated, I rolled over onto my side. Pretended to be asleep, I softly and carefully placed my arm across his lower mid-riff in as casual a manner as I could imitate.


My hand crept slowly downwards to where I hoped Michael's penis lay between his legs. I desperately wanted to feel it in my hand. I could hear his steady breathing and even feel the blood pumping though his body, as his stomach rose and fell beneath my arm, slowly and quietly while he slept. As I slipped my hand lower, I got a surprise, as I felt something quite firm. He didn't have an erection exactly but it was definitely bigger, and firmer, than when it was completely soft.

It seemed to throb gently, like a sleeping monster, beneath my open hand and even seemed to get harder as I lay quite still beside him. Pretending, as best I could, to be shifting in my sleep, I allowed my hand to slide to one side of his throbbing tool, to where I knew the opening was in his pyjamas. Gently sliding my fingers inside his flies, my thumb felt the wiry curls of his ginger pubes and my fingers once again touched his cock, warm and firm in my hand.

It continued to throb very gently, as the blood pumped through his body in time with the beating of his heart. My own heart meanwhile, was going like the clappers, even though I was pretending to be asleep. At that point, he stirred and must have woken-up, because I suddenly felt his hand come over on top of my own.

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I was shocked and frightened at being discovered. I tried to remain relaxed and limp, just as if I were asleep, all innocent-like. But out of the darkness came the words I was longing to hear, "You can toss me off you want to," he said, "I don't mind.

In fact, I wish you would; I'm horny as hell!" Evidently, he knew what I was doing and that I wasn't asleep. He threw back the sheets, as my hand grasped his tool in response to his invitation and pulled it from the flies of his pyjamas.

Already, his cock was growing to its fully erect state, hard and straight. I gently slipped back his foreskin to reveal in the moonlit darkness the glistening helmet of his cock, already oozing pre-cum down the shaft. But before I could do any more, he began to undo the cord around his waist and he opened the front of his pyjamas, revealing the full nakedness of his abdomen. "I don't wanna make a mess like last night," he said, "Have you got any tissues?" I realised instantly that, after all, he knew something of what had happened last night, although I wasn't sure how much he knew, until he continued, "You can do it properly this time." Shocked and relieved at the same time, I didn't need any more encouragement.

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I took a box of tissue from the bedside drawer and knelt beside him, as if in prayer, my hands clasped together, although instead of a prayer-book between them, there was his beautiful, oozing, throbbing tool; and his naked body, laying prone on the altar before me.

As I teased and stroked his strong, straight cock, I looked in the near-darkness at his face. His eyes were closed and the expression on his face, such as I could see in the moonlight, seemed one of almost serene pleasure. It made me feel so happy. I idolised my cousin; he was my hero and here I had his willing cock in my hands, all mine to play with and discover.

I couldn't resist the temptation. I had seen pictures in Penthouse and often wondered what it might be like. I leaned forward and put my lips around his exposed and glistening cock-head. As I did so, Michael let out a gasp of surprise. "Oh, jeez!" he uttered, swallowing hard.

He gasped again as I tasted his pre-cum again, warm and salty, slippery and smooth. I loved it. I didn't have any plan at this point; after all, I had no experience at all. I had never even touched another guy, let alone put his cock in my mouth. But I knew there and then that I liked it. I licked and sucked and tasted his oozing juices, as Michael lay there, quietly sighing and muttering obscenities under his breath.

This just turned me on even more. My own cock was dribbling pre-cum into my pyjamas and there were so many things I wanted to do at that moment. I fondled his balls gently and quickly discovered that it turned him on even more too. He writhed and his legs separated, as my fingers explored his inner groin. He was all mine. With my lips tightly grasped around his erect shaft, I heard him murmur in the dark, "That's it; don't stop, please, keep going; I'm nearly there." So I did.

Without warning, his tool convulsed in my hands and I tasted something new, something different, hot and thick, filling my mouth and overflowing down his shaft and into his pubic hair.

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As his cock throbbed in my hand, more and more of his cum shot though his organ, still gripped firmly in my hands and partly inside my mouth. I'd never done this before and I was enthralled but frightened at the same time. It seemed slightly disgusting but enthralling at the same time. I didn't know what to do next. I didn't dare swallow his cum; heaven knows what it would do to me! So I spat what was left in my mouth out into my hand and started to try to clean up the mess.

Meanwhile, Michael lay there, gasping and heaving for breath, his erect cock subsiding into a curled sleeping monster again, softly against his now rather messy stomach. "My God," he eventually sighed, "I didn't expect you to do that!" It was at that moment that I realised, through a combination of fear and excitement, I had also cum involuntarily in my own pyjamas.

I felt slightly disgusted with myself but pleased at the same time. I quietly crept to the bathroom to dispose of the tissue evidence of our moonlit debauchery and surreptitiously cleaned myself up as best I could, before pulling the chain and sneaking back to bed. As I got back into bed, Michael was laying on his side facing away from me. I didn't know if he was already asleep but I was also worried what Michael might say or do. I think Michael must have been psychic or something because, as I lay still beside him, he turned back towards me and murmured, "I won't say anything to anyone, you know.

You won't either, will you?" "Of course not," I replied, slightly surprised as well as relieved. Then after a few moments pause, he said, "It was bloody good though." Then, he did it so gently. Still laying on his side, facing away from me, he reached over and took my wrist in one hand and, as he settled down, with his bottom against my groin, he softly placed my arm around him and clasped it to his chest.

That little gesture of affection, rather than revulsion or rejection, brought a tear to my eye, as we lay there and I drifted off to sleep, with my arm wrapped around his warm body. Meanwhile, my own cock was already getting a bit stiff again and I could feel it still weeping the remnants of cum into my pyjama pants, as it lay inches from Michael's backside.

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It would take quite a few more years for me to figure-out what to do next but this was the dawn of a realisation&hellip.and of course, it would be Michael in whom I would eventually confide, when it came to my first admission of the unavoidable truth.