When I look back, I sometimes still get butterflies in my stomach, especially thinking about some of the days I've already written about, when things happened that shaped my life for the next curve in the road. Believe me, I don't mean for that to sound so cliché. I've written so much about Cody - more than I really intended - knowing the bigger part of how much he influenced me. You've already seen the geek in me - thinking, from an early age about things most kids should never have to think about, or get wrapped up in. I wasn't like most kids though, and I think it probably shows by now. I thought too much about things, losing that edge of self confidence I needed in order to move on. As much as Cody helped me with my feelings and learning to understand myself, he also hampered me - not his fault, but my own because it was so hard for me to let him go.
Combine that with the fact that, as I did progress into my mid-teen years, I began to think for myself - rather than worry so much about what other people thought - my life was shattered by my own mother. She has no idea what that did to me - and personally, I don't want her to know. Because to really explain it, I would have to go back to the beginning, and to do that, she would have to learn a whole lot more about her son than I'll ever be ready to admit to her in person. I can't do that, knowing how close that religion played a part in her upbringing, and knowing how broken-hearted she would be to find out her son was not, well, normal. Even Cody's threat has no weight to me in this instance - because, maybe I am normal in a lot of respects, but being partially (if not fully) gay can't take the front seat. So, yeah Cody, if you read that and still want to come and castrate me, maybe I deserve it. At least give me some credit, though: I no longer considered myself the outsider anymore. I finally shed this persona of being the weakling, or the nobody.
I think what happened between Mom and myself though, drove a wedge between us. For a while, it placed in me further a paradox, an insecurity of sort that made me shut down even more than before. I began to lack feelings about anything for a long time, and I'm talking about those feelings inside of being accepted. My own mother had lost her confidence in me to tell the truth. The one woman who I lived with, day in and day out for my entire life, couldn't - or wouldn't - believe me. If we were not so close, I could understand it, I think - but up until that point in time, all we had was each other, and we had invested a lot into that relationship.
I didn't create an act or some persona, a shell, of somebody that I wasn't. I was beyond that point, really. Cody had convinced me I was cool at just being me, and he even told me once that if I couldn't be happy being me, how could I ever expect others to do the same. So, if I made friends, or people were going to liken me for who I was, then they would always only get what they see - just me. I mean, one of the things that affected and discouraged me so much about my peers in school, was that so many of them put on such a false front. The guys were always trumping and bragging about themselves, some much more than who they really were. I never liked that - for a lot of reasons. Sometimes, it was because of all the made-up crap about sex and girls and everything. Other times though, well, you just knew better about what was believable and what wasn't. Even the girls had their own set of marketable values they played with, I think. A lot of them would do always try to out-do one another, you know, boast - coming off as brats, stuck-up snobs, and more.
Of course - not everyone did that, but putting them together, mostly the jocks and bullies and snobs - rich kids who looked down on anyone who was less than their level of popularity or snooty-ness. Most thumbed their nose up at me. I don't know if it was because of the way Mom raised me, or if it was just because we were so fundamentally low on the social totem pole or what - as in low income. That made a lot of difference for some kids, I know, when it came to acceptability. Not for me, though. My attitude developed such that, if I could not just be me, if I could not be accepted by just being the way I was, then I didn't want to be somebody else. Besides, I probably didn't need to be a part of their groups anyway, with their hang-outs, or their "walls-of-fame" - an expression that meant their trophies to adore and idolize.
I know, that probably sounds weird to some people, because that would also mean if I couldn't be myself, believe in myself for who I was, then I was already living a lie. Think about all the chapters you've been reading thus far, of this screwed up, mixed-up excuse for a human being. I was gay, or at least bi-sexual at the time, whether I admitted it or not. I was approaching 15, and I did not crave or have an interest in girls like the other guys did. My hormones were just wired up differently. As I started to mature for the better, my interest in boys started to pick back up, and it made me feel literally ashamed for a while. Whether or not I gave up the idea that I was just being curious, it didn't matter anymore. It also didn't help that my fantasies never changed any, because my release came from thinking about kids who might be like me. On top of that, I always wondered - were there other kids like me? When I stared at some of my classmates, I would wonder what this person looked like - you know, down there? How much would we be different on the outside, and on the inside too?
Those were low points, I think. Even to this day, though I don't have any ambitions or intentions of messing with teens, I still get curious about how they were built, and wondering how they - if any - paralleled my own development down there. I couldn't get that from watching porn anything. The guys in those videos, or their ads, at best were 18-years or older, right? Some even in their 30's, I think. I know, because even though I didn't do porn, I had seen a few here and there. Some of those people were way hairy, ugly even. If you were lucky to stumble across some teens, most always trimmed or shaved themselves in their groin. That just didn't seem real, and it just wasn't the same - not to me anyway. I was more interested in like, the 15-years old or better group. I know, that's below legal age, and I know it makes me sound like a perv. I get that, I really do. So, someone else wants to castrate me, okay... I wouldn't stop you, I guess. Like I said though, I would never mess with teens, never try sex and stuff like that. It's just, for lack of a better word, curiosity. Does that make sense?
At that time though, I was really hitting some low points in my life again for a while, doubting myself, wondering if I could amount to anything, or be anybody ever again to someone like I was to Cody. It was hard, and my answer to everything - for a time anyway - was to just shut myself away, close up my box around me. Mom had stripped my honesty away, I felt. Maybe not with anyone else in the world, but she was the most important person in my world, you know? That was devastating to me.
Becoming quiet and closed up again, eventually the kids in school discovered they could still taunt and hurt me. There was a few of them who took advantage of it, too. The ultimate fact was that I had no interest in cars, in fishing, sports or hunting, or farming, and of course, girls. I don't know if maybe it was because my Dad wasn't around enough. Or if I just lacked some of the things other boys seemed to get from being with their own fathers and families. Regardless, I was alone, and I think it showed eventually.
That brings me back mostly to where I left off. Even though I did return to the computer and the internet, I had my fill of doubts. I got into some chat rooms and found some of the friendships I had made, turned out to be perverts - people who just were feeding off of my feelings of guilt and confusion. If it wasn't that, then there was the crowd who did their best to get me to send naked pictures of myself to them. That honestly turned my stomach. I understood some people could do that, and more power to them if they could - but couldn't. It turned out, for a while, the only people I could go online and honestly enjoy being free with was my Dad, and my cousin that lived in Madison, Timmy. Cody, too, but even though we stayed in contact a lot - it wasn't the same. The pit of it all was that they were family - and I could not, I would not out myself, or at least any of my feelings of curiosity or whatever (about guys, anyway) to them - period.
The one thing I did do though, was learn to swim and enjoy the public pool. As it turned out, the pool was about a 15-minute ride on my bike from the house, and Mom thankfully never seemed to mind my going there. Especially during the hot summer days when we were off from school. I loved it there - because it gave me something to do away from home. Although I knew a lot of guys who went there did it for the opposite sex, my mind was on a different path. The boys loved to go topless, and although most wore the baggy, boxer-type swim trunks, every so often you would see things that made you catch your breath. Like, clearly outlined boners in their trunks, or loose swim trunks that would fall in the back and show part of their ass. I even watched one guy do a high-dive once, probably 15 or 16, and his trunks pulled back so much when he hit the water that, as he turned upright facing me, I caught a brief glimpse of his pubes before he got them pulled back up. He grinned at me, knowing I had caught him, but he didn't seem to care as he swam over to the side and climbed out, intending to do another dive, I think. The guys put themselves on display for the girls, and although I had to hide my reactions a lot of times, they got an added viewing audience from me.
I wasn't shy either, insofar as myself went. Mind you, I wasn't much to look at to the world, even when I was 85% or more naked. I mean, I didn't have that pure white belly or back (thankfully), or boney legs that look so geek-ish on some people. In other words, although I was a skinny runt, my body was mostly clear for my age - no hairs, except for a little on my arms, and of course my pubes. I also had no freckles or blemishes much to speak of, no scars or scratches to be found. I always thought I had the most forgetful kind of face in the crowd, too, so I guess that helped break any shyness I might have had. The little kids - especially our neighbors, when they were there - would often get me into some games with them, things to have fun more or less, and I did play with them a little. I even taught a few of them, and some others, how to swim. So, my days at the pool were not spent in total isolation. Most of the time though, I just watched the others, teens, pre-teens and what have you, both boys and girls, doing their own thing. It was easy to see that many of them were doing the one thing that attracted them most, though: eyeing the opposite sex.
When it came to being around the pool, I also witnessed a lot of indiscrete stuff, especially groping by both the guys AND the girls. I mean, a guy trying to get beyond 1st base was a natural thing, I think. Then girls actually rubbing against a guys' willy in the water was something else. That was, well, interesting. Sometimes a couple might be spooning, even briefly, but it was obvious when a guys groin fit so well into the backside of a cute girl, what they were doing. It was also funny at times, observing how much trouble they both would go through, to stay that way as long as possible without being caught. All of them were always in the water, always very discrete, but I learned how to be in the better places at the better times and all, I think. What few adults and lifeguards were around seemed to be oblivious to it. In fact, I think they knew what was going on to a certain extent, but they were just making sure none of the little kids got perv'ed on, or that someone just didn't go too far.
Nobody did stuff with me, though. Instead, I just watched people from the corner of my eyes, or from a distance, with or without my glasses as I could, acting nonchalant about everything. Nobody ever really caught me staring at them either, or if they did, they didn't care. I had these sunglasses that helped out, too. I knew they were dark enough to stop anyone from seeing whatever held my interest. Still, I tried not to linger too much on the obvious (or not so obvious) skins that were either exposed or uncovered.
There was another reason I liked the pool as much as I did. Here was a place I was never picked on or teased. Most all the boys wore the usual boxer trunks, nothing like speedos, though I did see them a few times, and believe me, on guys, they really left little to the imagination. If there were any exceptions, it would usually be the little kids who might do the tighter stuff, and that was okay, really. For some reason or another though, nobody - amongst the guys anyway - paid each other that much attention. I think there was one remark maybe, one time, where I overheard someone pointing my way and talking low to his friends, saying 'Look who's here...'. His buddy shrugged his shoulders, and I heard him reply in kind. 'Hell, he has to get some somewhere doesn't he?'. Then a third one added, 'It's probably all the dork will ever get, too!' They all would laugh and snicker as they went by me, and yeah, from their glances I knew it was me they were talking about. Yeah, that one time it hurt. Seriously though, that was it - nothing more was ever said that I ever caught, about not just me, but really anyone else, too.
Was it like a truce or something? I don't know, but at the pool, the teasing and name calling and running down of someone's ego just didn't exist. Personally, I think it's because they had other things on their mind, such as the girls. Who knows, maybe they didn't want to look like idiots in front of them or something. After all, to get beyond first base was a goal, I think, that most of them shared. Like I said before, there were a few times I caught glimpses of some of the guys with boners. Some very clearly outlined, and some you had to be close to notice it. They would be getting all hot and steamy at just about anything they could, I think. If the girls wore bikinis or one-piece suits, sometimes they went to the trouble of flashing between their legs, such as letting their pubes show out one side, or make their halter tops fall a little lower, revealing much more breasts than I think was really, like, normal. Sometimes that would make the guys go nuts - especially if they could make out their tits when they hardened. I knew, because I always seem to hear about it from someone, somewhere around me.
So, the pool was just a gathering place. One person, who sat next to me in one of the public lounge chairs, said to me how he thought it was pretty cool to be in the middle of acres and acres of skin. I remember laughing, but then agreeing with him. He had to be no more than a year or two older than I was, although he was someone I had never met before. He was using those phrases under his breath, like Mmmmmmm... or Hot damn! whenever a particularly good-looking girl was coming up out of the water in front of us, or walking by. Most of the time he was muttering them to me, and his sighs and subtle adjustments he would make in conspicuous places, showed he had to exercise a lot of restraint. I mimicked him a little, not wanting to be totally bone-headed about it all. I mean, he was taking in the view, and it was just as amusing for me to watch and listen to him over the girls, while secretely I would get a kick out of watching the guys. I would just smile and acknowledge everything when he was obviously talking to me, but secretly I was getting turned on by just watching him, too. His tan belly, his golden chest rising and falling, and an obvious tiger trail that extended below his innie belly button was all open for my eyes to see. Especially his entire boner that extended half-rigid in his swim trunks - all of it. He was doing his best, I think, not to spring a full mast - for the obvious reasons, and I had to be careful as well for at one point I was getting there, too. Eventually though, I had to get up and leave, lest I start to get in trouble for myself. I never saw any naked skin though, at least, not any glorious privates or anything of the like while I was there. If I had, oh wow - but what I did get was plenty of dreams and curious fantasies to live from.
I didn't live the rest of my life though, without having at least a little more fun. My relationships (if that's what you want to call them) eventually evolved around my 15th birthday. Dad called me and asked if I wanted to come up part of that week, since it was our school's Spring Break, and visit with him in Madison, Wisconsin. Boy, did I ever! After obtaining Mom's approval, I arrived there just a few days later. It was a Friday night (school had let out the day before), and upon getting into the terminal, I found not only my Dad waiting for me as usual, but also with a surprise: my 12-year old cousin Timmy was with him! The pre-teen (or would he be called a teen at 12?) was splitting a grin from ear to ear, and for some reason I felt more alive than I had in quite some time.
I have to tell you a little about Timmy, I think, because from about this point onward, he was the second major influence on where my life went next. It was because of him I tore down the barriers I had created for myself, and I finally started to like myself as a person. In the past few months, since my episode with Mom, my computer sessions were pretty limited as I've already explained. Still, I honestly believe if it had not been for the fact of staying in touch with both Timmy and my Dad - through messenger and emails - I probably would not have become the computer geek I am today. Timmy had a cam, and he would still cam for me every once in a while, showing me a new plastic model he had put together, or what he got for Christmas - things like that. He understood why I didn't have a cam too, and thankfully that never seemed to bother him. I did have a microphone and headphones, so at least he had that much to hear me by on the other end. There were a lot of late nights we just talked - sometimes about so little, but yet it seemed like everything. We didn't really have that much of a bond between us in the beginning, even as family, but over time our friendship grew bigger. There were almost 3 years that separated us in age, and although he was no jock by any sense of the word, he still played hockey on a pee-wee league team. At least, I think it was called that. It was some kind of league for middle-school kids. Like me though, he also loved watching NFL football - so, we did have quite a bit in common.
Many nights our talks were about the teams, who we thought was good or would lose the next week, things like that - it was the one topic, perhaps the ONLY topic when it came to any kind of sports - that I could carry on my own. Tim liked to talk about other things too, though. We were a lot alike in the fact that, when we were in our rooms late at night, we stripped to our underwear and t-shirts. I know, because I saw him that way lots of times. It brought back some painful memories at first, but as we got to know each other more, those thoughts faded away. I can remember the first time it happened, I teased him about it, and good naturedly he looked into the camera and point-blank asked me, "Is anyone in there with you?"
"Nope."
"Just you?"
"Yep"
"Then what's the problem? I don't care, as long as it's just us, Sean."
Wow, did that sound familiar or what? I guess most guys - at least most close friends anyway - don't care too much about that stuff. For me though, in my heightened sense of being alone, to hear him say something like that put a kind of warmth inside me. It wasn't the fact he would go around in his underwear with me watching, not in a sexy-sense of any kind; but I do remember the feeling I got from him, the things that he said showed me he trusted me. That was what made the initial impact, and whether he knew it or not, it, it struck a chord inside. I even watched him a time or two get ready for bed. I don't know, but he truly didn't seem to care - as long as it was just me. Sometimes he would ask me that, making sure no one was with me, before he would get up, strip and find a t-shirt - all knowing I was on the other end of the camera.
Although he never seemed shy with me being there, I do think he was a little shy in general. He told me once in one of our long nights, that he didn't like changing clothes for hockey, or the gym class at school, unless he just had to. That got me to thinking about myself somewhat, so I just outright put the question to him. "Umm, are you really like, well, really self-conscious about that stuff? You know, like, shy?"
He thought about it a minute before replying. "Nah, not really, I think. I just don't like flashing my beautiful ass and legs to anyone!"
Even though I didn't have a cam, I muted my mic and gave him a bunch of ROTFLMAO thingy's in the text window, and of course he started cracking up on the other end. "What's so funny? Don't you think I have a cute butt?" he would ask me, before standing up and modeling it for me in his briefs. It was comical how he pulled his t-shirt way up and turned around in a complete circle, wiggling his rear from side to side in a silly fashion when it was in view of the camera. I laughed so hard I started crying, and when I finally quieted down, he was on the screen again, back at the keyboard "You there? Are you there?" Then he would grin some more. "OMG - was my ass ssssoooo beautiful it put you into shock, or made you feint???"
I finally turned the mic back on and replied. "I don't know about your butt, but your legs are grade A!" (Or something like that, at least...)
He got this expression. "What do you mean, you don't know about my butt?" he replied softly, and then started to scoot back. He stopped though and leaned into the keyboard yet one more time. "You're sure, we're alone, right? Just the two of us?"
I should have probably told him to not do it or something, because I suddenly had this feeling of what was about to happen. Still, my bedroom door was closed, and I knew Mom had went to bed at least an hour before. "Yeah, Tim, it's just you and me, I promise."
I saw him grin and then stand up again. He then turned around and mooned me, right there on the spot, showing me the full glory of his ass and everything around it. Not for a long time, but long enough the cam had no problem getting in focus. I could not help but smiled. He pulled his briefs back up and turned around then, sitting down and laughing. "Well? How about now?"
Admittedly, for a 12-year old, it was really pretty sexy. He had shown me a very sassy, smooth, white-skinned backside, much like my own, unblemished by anything: no freckles, no scratches, nothing. I sat there, mesmerized for some reason, and then giggled, fully knowing he could hear me. "Damn!" I whispered, but then typed into the text stream, 'S-e-x-y!'.
I watched him laugh on the other end, stick his tongue out at me like he was blowing a raspberry. "You turd, I am not!"
I didn't hesitate to answer back this time. "Yeah, you are you know. A lot sexier than me, anyway!"
He yawned at that. "No way Sean, that's not true. It's like you always say, I'm just me." For what I could see of his eyes and face, he was having one of those moments. I just smiled and gave him a hug in the text window, using an emoticon of course, since he couldn't see me. I looked at the clock and saw it was after 11:00, so I told him we better get to bed. He agreed and then that was that. For me though, I won't lie - it was so cool, just messing around even though it was one-sided, being funny, hanging out. I just kind of wished I could have known what he was thinking and feeling, then. I didn't want him having regrets or anything, you know?
So here we are, at the terminal gateway to my plane, and Tim is standing next to Dad, grinning from ear to ear. I give my Dad a big hug first, and after a time I think Time started getting jealous. "What, don't I get one of those, too?" He feigned a hurt expression when Dad and I separated, which made Dad laugh.
For my part though, I turned to him and just picked him up completely off the floor. I hugged him close to me, trying not to be too silly - but I did rock back and forth from side to side somewhat. I wanted to give him something that let him know I was surprised, but really happy he was there. I saw Dad beside us in my vision, amused, but I really didn't care as I grinned back at him. Maybe 10-15 seconds was all it lasted, but it was really cool. Tim was about 6-inches shorter than me, and just as skinny as I was, so lifting him up wasn't hard to do at all. When I lowered him back to the floor and we separated, we all went to pick up my bag and then made our was out and away from the airport in my Dad's Chevy Blazer. We stopped at a new place along the way to get something to eat, some place none of us had ever tried, and I remember it being okay but nothing special - other than it WAS cool being able to sit so close next to Tim, in a booth that seemed really small.
When we got to Dad's place that night, I immediately went for the stairs to climb up to my bedroom, and on into the bathroom to relieve myself. Dad had this studio, loft-like condo that wasn't too far from campus, with a huge bedroom downstairs and a smaller one up on top. It was kind of cool because of the way stuff was shaped. The second floor had this balcony that overlooked the living room below, then a bedroom and a full bathroom. Short of that though, it was about as plain as any other place you would find. Dad didn't decorate much, although you would find a few pictures of me or his family in a few places. He even had one or two of Mom, too. The condo was clean and modern-looking I guess, really kind of a nice place for an older neighborhood, you know? For a couple weeks a year, it was my home away from home, and I liked it - it was something different, and it helped me to appreciate my real room back home even more. My room might not be the most modern, newest looking place around but, heck, it was my room.
Tim followed me up, and I heard him take a big dive and flop on the bed while I finished and came out of the bathroom. When he asked me a question, I turned and looked at him in surprise as I setting my suitcase on the dresser. "Sean? Can I sleep up here with you tonight?"
That was a first, and it took me a little by surprise. Although we had hung out together a lot the last few times I was up here (or when he was down in Kentucky, like at Christmas), he had never spent the night away from his parents. "Y-you're s-spending the night?" I stammered.
Tim laughed, a rich sound filling the room. "Yeah, I know, kind of a surprise to me too, but I asked Mom this morning and she said she didn't see why not."
I grinned. "Sure! I mean, if you want to." There might be a few years between us, but I didn't care. Some things are still safe and pure in life, you know?
"What do you mean? Of course I do! I asked you, didn't I?" He giggled.
"Just making sure, that's all," I giggled back.
"Dork, why, you gonna rape me or something?" he added in a hushed voice. He had thrown a pillow at me, too. Why I hesitated, I don't know, but it was like some nerve had been struck inside of me, and he saw my reaction. He immediately became apologetic. "I'm sorry Sean, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I mean..."
At first, I couldn't tell if he was apologizing for throwing the pillow at me or what. "Huh?"
Tim looked at me closely then, I guess, deciding if I was seriously confused or not. When I saw him shrug, I was definitely missing something, and I sort of reasoned it out finally. "NNnoooo, I'm not going to rape you, doofus!" He giggled at my response, so I then added. "But..."
"But what?" He was whispering now too.
"Well, if you let me, I might like to cuddle with you a little." I was almost embarrassed to say it as I looked away, but I did really mean it. I had not held anyone, another person or body, or boy, since being with Cody. Here was Tim, wanting to sleep with me, and I was sure I wouldn't be able to resist the opportunity if he would let me.
I had trusted him already with some things, he knew. I mean, I told him while we were chatting before, what that was like, to feel someone hold you and to have someone to hold back sometimes. I also remembered that look on his face as he understood it, too. I looked at him, knowing fully well I trusted him, and in most ways I knew he trusted me too. It became evident when he smiled back at me. "Deal!"
"Really?" I was a little stunned - why, I'm not sure, but yeah...
"Sure!" was his reply and we both grinned.
Right then, Dad called us back downstairs and we ended up watching a movie with him and goofing around a while. My mind was only half present though, as I was getting that mood on me about how it was going to be so cool later on that night. Sex stuff? Nah, I didn't even think about that - honest. Tim had a girl or two that I knew he really liked, and even though there were some things that established a little trust between us, he just didn't really seem the type to, you know, play around any.
I found out later though how wrong I was, but still for this night? It was just, well, cool.
When it got late, Dad told us we better scoot on upstairs and get some sleep. As I climbed the steps and went inside the bedroom, I have to admit I was a little nervous. Timmy came along about a minute later, carrying an overnight bag, and closed the door behind him. Then, without any preamble or hesitation, without anything at all - to my stunned eyes - he just started kicking off his shoes and peeling away his shirt and pants. All the while he's doing this, I'm watching from sitting on the side of the bed. When I glanced up and caught him looking at me, he was giving me almost that wicked, evil eye of his. "So, you going to sleep with your clothes on or something?" he asked, as he finished pulling his jeans off.
Startled, I replied nervously. "Umm, nope. Uh, sorry..."
He laughed at me. "Told you that night I had a cute ass, didn't I?" he whispered, referring to that night only a couple of months before. I reached and threw a pillow at him as he stepped away into the bathroom to go pee. He didn't close the door, however, and from the opening where I was standing, unbuttoning my shirt, I could see him from his back, standing at the commode and letting loose, with just his briefs and t-shirt on. I noticed they were both gray in color, and found that to be pretty cool.
I say that because there's something else that was changing for me in my life as well. For a long time, Mom got most of my clothes for me from hand-me-downs or the Wal-Mart special racks, but the one thing she didn't accept or try to take was when it came to my underwear (thank goodness). I don't remember exactly when, but there was a time I had noticed at school - when the guys changed clothes for gym class - that not everyone wore boxers, but rather some wore briefs and stuff like me. There was a big difference though, when some of them wore colors that were not white, like the classic stuff you would expect. I remember almost getting caught once watching one kid undress in front of me one day, surprising me with the fact he was wearing black briefs. He caught me and gave me a questioning look, but rather than hide it, I just told him outright I hadn't seen any briefs like that before, and that I thought they were pretty cool. He could have taken that a lot of different ways, and he was the type who could have made my life hell if he wanted to. Instead though, for whatever his reason, or maybe my guardian angel was with me that day or something, he just smiled and said something like "Yeah, I thought so too, that's why I got them." It never went any further than that, and we finished changing and went on into class.
My point is though, within a month I was with Mom at the store and I came across some just like them. I asked her if I could get them, seeing they didn't really cost any different than the others I usually wore. It was a package of 5 or so, all with different colors, and she only glanced at them for a second before putting them in the basket - no hesitation or anything, just mumbling something about meaning to get me some more lately. Because my t-shirt collection is pretty large, with a lot of different colors and everything under the sun already, I started wearing matching sets for some reason, and discovered that I loved it! Not because I thought anyone would ever see them and think anything of it much, but to me they were just cool. There was a time, months later, I wore one of those matched up t-shirts and stuff to school, and in gym that same kid noticed me and pointed it out. "Yeah, pretty cool aren't they?" I just nodded, pleased, and again he understood.
This particular night, my briefs and t-shirt were both the same color as Tim's, and as I removed my belt and shirt, he returned and immediately noticed it. My pants were halfway undone, sagging, and he starting watching me. I giggled. "I thought you said you were, like, shy or something..."
He immediately shook his head, then he crawled into the bed, pulling the covers back. "Nah, not with you Sean. Never with you." Nor was he shy about watching me either, as I could tell.
That really stuck with me. In a way, I owed him this anyway, stripping for him for all those times he couldn't see me. I don't know if he would have been interested for that matter, at least not like I secretly was, but I didn't care. I didn't make any more jokes, or ask any sillier questions. Although, for some reason, I do admit I was really nervous. I had not really undressed for anyone like this in a while, knowing they were watching me like this - at least since my times with Cody. I knew he was curious though, and in the end, I wanted him to know I trusted him. I remember when I was his age, and I remembered what my curiosity had felt like to me.
So, taking a deep breath I just did it, I hooked the waistband of my jeans and pushed them down off of me. In the process, my underwear got caught on something and for a second, they started to descend about halfway down my butt, but I caught them before revealing too much. I think mostly only the top of my pubes got exposed before I got them pulled back up. Tim didn't say a word, didn't giggle or anything, and yes, I knew he saw me. My cousin was watching me the whole time, his eyes glued to my crotch. I finished stripping to my briefs, before kicking my socks off and standing before him as he had to me. I think I yawned and stretched, which pulled my t-shirt up somewhat, probably giving him an even better view, before I walked across to the side of the bed and dropped my clothes onto my bag. Then I turned and went into the bathroom like he did, relieving myself just as he had, without closing the door or anything.
I didn't know any better way that I could be more open to him than that. I trusted him, but for some reason my nervousness didn't ease up any. When I returned, I turned on the bedside lamp before turning off the overhead light. Climbing in next to him, I was visibly shaking, and he noticed it. "Hey, you okay?"
At that moment, all I could do was nod as I stretched out on my side, scooting closer, but with still a couple of inches between us. I put my hands up under my head, lying on my back, taking deep breaths so I could try and get my shaking under control. He just watched me for a minute, and then he did it. He closed the distance between us, turned on his side facing me and laid his head right into my shoulder. "You know, you're not going to hold me, Sean, unless we're closer." He draped his arm across my chest, not really hugging me, but letting it rest there. He looked at me and waited, with his bright blue eyes focused on mine. I slowly brought my arm down and around him. I was still shaking as I touched him, and I couldn't really understand why. As I pulled him in though, my hand ran the length of his back, as our t-shirts separated us from one another.
He sighed and closed his eyes, and this time with his arm across my chest he did hug me. "Sean, you sure you're okay? Come on bro, it's just me. I'm not gonna bite or anything."
Yeah, it was just him. "I know Tim, it's just, give me a minute, okay?"
Tim opened his eyes and observed me. "It's okay, you know. We don't have to do this."
"No!" I exclaimed, rather forcefully than I intended. When I saw it startled him, I finally gave a deep sigh pulled him up all the way. I giggled and whispered back. "I WANT to Tim - I really, really do. God, you have no clue how much I want to do this buddy. I mean, really hold onto you, up close."
"Then, do it," he replied softly, a little smirk on his face.
So, I did. He was my cousin, but he was also very close to me on the inside. I grasped him and pulled him right into my belly, our fronts touching all the way up and down. I nuzzled his shoulder. "It's just been a long time s-since I've like, held a-anyone this way..."
Timmy grunted. "You mean Cody, don't you?" I nodded in silence. That's when he reared back and then smiled at me before draping his leg over mine and clinging tightly. "Well, I don't care, Sean. It is pretty cool to me, too, you know," he whispered.
"Yeah." It was all I could think of to say to him right then. God, he was so warm, and because he was a little shorter and smaller than me, he fitted differently than the way Cody did. That made cuddling him even more awesome. I could smell him, his hair, his skin, everything so fresh and clean. I could feel him, too, and after I reached over and turned off the light and got back into position, his t-shirt was open in the back and pulled up around the lower part of his belly. I didn't hesitate, taking my hand and inserting it inside for a brief period, before moving it around to his back, feeling his skin, still soft and warm. I rubbed on his back as he lay next to me, both the exposed and the covered areas, and he enjoyed the contact of my fingers as I reached everywhere I could, pulling him to me as I lightly felt my way around.
It was dark in the room, but the moon was shining through the window at the back, just enough that I could see his face, and I could easily make out that his eyes open and watching me. "Thanks, little bro, you're the best cousin a guy like me could have," I told him, and meant it.
Tim smiled at that, before pulling away and sitting up in the bed. Unceremoniously, he then removed his t-shirt completely, before turning to me and grasping mine at the base. Tugging gently, I understood and sat up with him, letting him peel it off over my head. He then pushed me back down, and climbed in close again. "Now, this is a lot better," he murmured, and I couldn't have agreed more. Nothing separated us now except our briefs, which I knew he didn't care by the way he wrapped his leg up over mine again. He lay his head back in my shoulder and observed me, cozying up. I could have almost cried on the spot, at how happy I was feeling inside. This was something I had not felt in a long, long time, and had even given up on the idea of ever being able to feel again.
In all of this, even with this our close contact to one another, neither of us sprung a boner - and yes, I would have felt it. He started rubbing my chest somewhat, before pulling me in again. I heard him whisper to me at some point. "You're a cool cousin too, bro." At that, he fell asleep, and after a while, so did I.
The next morning, we awoke and I was surprised to find myself spooning him, again with his smaller body fitting perfectly inside of me. Sometime during the night, we had shifted and moved, and my arms were around him completely, hugging him close. As I was waking up, he was grinding himself backwards into me, and that made me feel especially alert, mostly because my bladder was in need of relief, and the usual morning wood was half-way formed to which he ground his butt back into me. I was contemplating what I should do when he turned and looked at me with sleepy eyes and whispered. "You know, you promised!"
"Huh?" I asked back, confused, but smiling.
He lowered his voice even more, "You said you wouldn't rape me..."
I giggled and blushed then, embarrassed big time, and he giggled right back with me. Instead of pulling away though, he turned back over and cuddled to me even harder, grinding himself back into me again. I was definitely getting aroused by then, and scared - very scared. By that time in life, I had learned about actual boy sex, and how it was done, and I didn't want to give this cousin of mine the wrong idea. So instead, I gave him another big, full-contact hug, and then whispered in his ear. "I'll be right back. Don't go away, okay?" Disengaging myself, I rose and headed to the bathroom. As I relieved myself yet again, I was silently begging for my Little Sean to calm down, and as I finished, to my relief it did return to a softer state. I looked at the clock and saw it was like 6:30 AM or so, and so I returned to the bedroom and climbed back into bed. I was about to settle on my back again and pull Tim next to me, when he suddenly jumped up out of the bed and went into the bathroom too, relieving himself like I had.
When he returned, with the light coming in from outside, I could see him in just his briefs. Yes, I noticed how cool his body looked to me, for what details I made out anyway. He climbed into bed, pulling the covers up over us, but then scooted over and climbed right on top of me. Observing me up close, he spoke in a whisper. "I'm sorry Sean, maybe I shouldn't have said that. The rape thing, you know."
I shook my head. "Tim, you have no clue how good it makes me feel, knowing that you, like, trust me so much. Even now."
Tim raised his head and looked at me curiously. "How do you know? Maybe I do, Sean. Maybe because it makes me feel just as good that you trust me, too. Besides, if I didn't trust you, do you think I would do this?" Then he did something I still remember to this day, and I doubt I'll ever forget. He wiggled his groin right there, on top of mine, and there was no mistaking when our willies rubbed together behind our cloths. When I looked at him in surprise, he was grinning at me. "Relax, okay?" he said, smiling. He then hugged me and added, in a voice barely above a whisper. "I love you, you know. Not just because we're family, either. You're my bro, too."
Timmy called me a bro. Only one other person in my life have I ever given that benefit too, because of the bond we built with one another almost 3 years before. At that moment, I did lose it and turn sappy, I guess. I felt so happy that a tear rolled down my cheek as I just hugged him to me, whispering into his ear that I loved him too. We just clung to each other for a while, him being totally relaxed laying on top of me.
When he finally rolled off to my side, we cuddled up again and went back to sleep until almost nine, when Dad started calling out to us to come eat some breakfast. When we broke apart, we were both smiling, and this trip had already paid so much to me. I thought I could live off of it for a long time, just from that one night alone of being together.
But that wasn't the end, and I'll wait for another chapter to tell you the rest...