Date: Wed, 25 Mar 2020 13:56:58 +0000
From: scrivo4 <scrivo4444@protonmail.com>
Subject: My Cousin Made Me Gay 1

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to a person, real or fake, is
coincidental.

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My cousin James and I have been close for ages, beyond the point of being
best friends. I had both an older sister and brother, both of whom no
longer lived at home, and he had a younger sister at home with him, but
James was like a brother to me. He was two years older than me and because
his family lived in the same neighborhood as mine, we had grown up together
and were practically inseparable.  We also shared friends and had many of
the same interests. The only real difference was that he was more of a jock
while I was less athletically inclined.

Like many teens, we both shared a love of video games and movies-especially
science-fiction and immersive fantasy tales-and spent a lot of time at our
local theater. Until his junior year of high school when he got a part-time
job at an auto repair shop, we spent practically every weekend during the
school year and nearly every day during the summer watching and re-watching
movies on the big screen. After getting is job and because of his frequent
dating, we set aside one weekend each month for just the two of us to get
together for a movie marathon.

We were at the theater one Saturday morning a few weeks into that school
year and while we waited for the lights to go down, we engaged in horseplay
and generally goofed around despite, or maybe because of, our ages. The
theater we were in wasn't packed but there was still a good crowd for the
fourth week of the movie with most of the moviegoers being around our
age. We had picked a seat in the middle of the row near the middle of the
theater. There were people at both ends of our row as well as people off to
the side behind us and directly in front of us. Engaged in their own
conversations, most ignored us being idiots. The group in front of us,
however, looked older than our grandparents and they turned to give us a
number of nasty glances though they didn't say anything. When the lights
dimmed, we calmed down and focused on the screen. We shared a few whispered
comments about the previews, but when the movie started we became quiet.

As was our habit, we shared a bag of popcorn. It was placed between us on
my right side straddling our seats in the space vacated by the armrest we
had flipped up and out of the way. About thirty minutes into the movie,
James's left leg, the closer of the two to me, began to rhythmically press
against the bag as he opened and closed his legs.

I looked over intending to say something but my voice caught in my
throat. James had one of his hands on his crotch squeezing himself. In the
darkness it took me longer than it normally would have to realize that one
of the folds in his shorts was not simply fabric but his covered
erection. Despite our close relationship and the fact that we frequently
stayed the night at each other's house, I had never seen his dick. I had
often awaken in one of our dark rooms to the soft sound of him masturbating
and knew I had occasionally awaken him as well so his arousal didn't bother
me. We were teenage boys and often talked to each other about dealing with
unanticipated and unwanted boners. What did surprise me was the size of the
ridge in his shorts.

Even though he was sixteen, James and I were very similar physically. I was
five feet three inches tall and he had about six inches more of height than
me. Due to great genetics-my father and his mother were siblings-we had
lean bodies, though his was more toned due to his various sports
activities. He had straight, thick, caramel hair that reached just below
his shoulders, while mine was sandy blond and styled shorter with a classic
side part. Both of us had hazel eyes, though his were greener than my
brownish ones. We both were good-looking and had no problems getting dates,
although he was currently single due to a recent breakup and I didn't
pursue girls as zealously as he did.

Because we were so similar, I had assumed, apparently incorrectly, that his
cock was comparable to my own five inches, maybe a bit larger due to his
height and age. Pointing toward me, it not merely tented his basketball
shorts but distended the fabric as it extended beyond his hip. The thin
material of his shorts wrapped tight around it from his stroking and, even
in the dim light reaching us from the screen, I could see that its
double-digit length was thicker than I expected on his narrow body.

"Sorry," James whispered. He stopped moving his legs but continued
massaging himself. "I haven't gotten off in nearly a week."

"It's cool." I turned back to the screen but remained aware of his
movements in my peripheral vision. As I sat there trying to focus on the
screen, out of the corner of my eye I saw that he continued to stroke and
squeeze himself through his shorts.

Sometime later, James shifted in his seat and slouched further
down. Reflexively, I looked over in time to see him shove his right hand
under his waistband. Covered by the fabric of his shorts, he began to
stroke himself slowly. I turned away but shifted in my seat feeling my own
dick begin to grow.

James quietly but purposefully worked his dick next to me. As if this were
a normal thing, he periodically reached his free hand into the popcorn to
grab a handful while appearing to remain focused on the movie.

While this went on, I was very aware of my own hardness in my jeans. As
much as I wanted to touch myself, I couldn't do it for fear that he would
think it was due to him, which it was in a roundabout way.  Though I had
never thought of him, or any other guy, as a sexual object, I was suddenly
turned on by him sitting there stroking himself. Whether it was because of
the very public nature of what he was doing or the size of the still hidden
cock he was stroking I wasn't sure. I just knew what was happening was hot.

At some point I reached over to grab some popcorn myself but because I
wasn't looking I missed the opening. When I looked over to find the bag, I
saw the tip of his cock appear in my field of vision as his fist began to
move down his shaft. He had angled his cock up out of his waistband
exposing the top half of it. I stared in shock for a moment. Though I had
gotten an idea of its size from its outline in his shorts, seeing it
exposed was surprising, especially in such a public place. In the dim light
that shined on the precum-slicked head, it appeared to be nearly as wide as
a cucumber. As his fist revealed more of it, I could see that, unlike me,
he was uncircumcised. Though I only saw a fraction of it, the shaft was
nearly as thick as and a darker shade of pink than the head.

"What the fuck, dude?" I whispered, questioning both his size and what he
was doing. Despite my surprise, I was unable to tear my eyes away from it.

"Sorry." Even though he matched my low tone, I could hear that he
wasn't. "I gotta blow this load."

"Shh," one of the people in front of us hissed over their shoulders.

Worried, I turned to face forward but didn't see who had done it and was
immediately thankful that James had not been caught with his pants
practically down. In my peripheral vision, I saw James look around us.

Suitably satisfied no one would see him, he shifted lower in his seat and
in the process exposed more of himself. As he continued stroking with his
right fist, it pushed his waistband lower as his cock angled over his left
hip in my direction.

In the relative darkness, the arc of his right arm hid his shallow stroking
from the people on his end of the row while the popcorn bag and my body
obscured the view from those on my side of the row. But unconvinced that
the group behind and a few seats over on James's side wouldn't see what he
was doing, I took a moment to glance in their direction. Satisfied that
they couldn't see him, I leaned over and asked as quietly as I could to not
disturb the people in front of us, "You're really doing this? Here?"

"Yeah." Even at a whisper, his voice was breathy with arousal. "I can't
stop now."

I sat back up with a shrug and tried to return my attention to the
movie. It was as bad of a battle as the loud space conflict that had begun
on the screen not to turn to watch him. I could hear the soft rustle of his
arm rapidly moving against his clothes and see the movement out of the
corner of my eye. My own dick twitched begging for the same attention but I
refused to even acknowledge its presence, which made the entire situation
that much worse.

With better aim, I reached over to grab some more popcorn. After putting a
handful in my mouth, I felt something hit my chest. I brushed my hand over
what I thought would be an errant piece of popcorn and was surprised to
feel wetness. Just as I looked down to investigate, wet warmth hit the
sleeve of my t-shirt on my upper arm. Turning my eyes toward that, I saw a
thick stream of cum leave James and land on my forearm.

"Dude! What the fuck?" Though my exclamation was a harsh whisper, I was
thankful that the movie battle was still raging and drowned out my words.

James opened his eyes which had closed during his orgasm. As his cock
continued to shoot, he tried to aim it away from me. In the process, a few
volleys shot through the space between the popcorn bag and the back of our
chairs to hit my side and my lap before being directed toward his side of
the popcorn bag. By that point the force of his ejaculation had subsided
and his cock began to leak a steady stream of white fluid down the side of
his seat that eventually dripped thickly onto the floor. Through his heavy
breathing he said, "Sorry."

Unable to respond without blowing up, I snatched up the two thin napkins we
had and tried to clean myself. I became angrier as they proved useless
against what was on me. When I finally gave up, the napkins were sticky wet
shreds of paper and I had done little more than smear his load across my
clothes and arm. To make matters worse, bits of the paper were firmly glued
to the fabric and my hands by his dried cum. I glared at him when he
apologized again then settled back into my seat.

We went through the rest of the movie in silence. Though I was angry at
having been attacked by his friendly fire, my cock was still rock hard. The
musky, chlorinated scent of his load trapped in my clothes lingered in my
nose. I had essentially been marked and a part of me that I never knew
existed enjoyed that fact.

I eventually relaxed and went for more popcorn. It wasn't until I had begun
to chew a mouthful that I realized it was already wet. Time seemed to stop
as my mouth quickly began to fill with a bitter, alkaline taste. I fought
against my instinctual reaction to spit it out, not wanting to alert James
to what had happened for fear of the teasing I was sure to receive. As I
swallowed, though his cum was unexpected in my mouth, I found it wasn't
unpleasant. I glanced over and saw James was still slouched in his seat
watching the movie, not paying attention to me. Hoping he was as oblivious
to what was now in the bag as I had been, I was able to eat two more
handfuls of popcorn before the rest of what he had shot in there was gone.

As the lights brightened slightly when the credits began to roll, James and
I quickly left the theater not wanting to deal with the stares of the
people in front of us. Outside, in the bright light of day, I saw my
clothes were a mess. Annoyed, I chased him to his car and gave him a few,
teasingly serious punches on his arm before we drove back to my house so I
could change.

---

A few weeks later, James and I were back at the movies. This time it was on
a double date. In what was a regular thing, James had a girl he wanted to
go out with but she wanted to bring a friend. Because I was single and
available, I was roped into it, even though I was younger than the girls
were. It had become so common that he no longer asked me if I wanted to go,
he'd just tell me that he had set it up. I didn't mind because sometimes I
hit it off with the girl and we'd go out a few times making my friends
jealous; sometimes I'd end up with a quick, easy lay; sometimes I'd sit in
silence and enjoy the movie.

It was a Friday night and the theater was packed with other teens and young
adults like us on dates. We met the girls there early enough to get seats
near the back center. As usual, James sat next to me on my right with our
dates on the outside of our group. The opening credits had just started
when James and his date started making out.

"Looks like they're enjoying themselves," my date said.

Taking the hint, I leaned over and gave her a kiss. She was pretty and I
knew many of the guys in our neighborhood had a crush on her. I, however,
soon realized I wasn't one of those guys. No matter how much I tried, I
couldn't muster enough attraction to her to continue. After a few minutes,
it became obvious to her as well and we separated and sat in awkward
silence.

On my other side, James and Cara were going at it. They barely came up for
breath and soon I heard the tinkle of James opening his belt. Still facing
forward, my focus shifted to them. I heard them share a few unintelligible
whispers between kisses. A few minutes later, I saw James open the button
of his jeans and lower his fly. They shared a few more kisses and whispers
before I saw him grab one of Cara's hands and move it toward his
crotch. She pulled it away and giggled but resumed kissing him. James let a
few minutes pass before he tried to get her hand in his pants again. This
time Cara was more forceful with her refusal. I could hear an apologetic
tone come from James and they sat in silence. It didn't take long before
James again put the moves on her and Cara broke down. They made out for
quite a while before James tried to get her hand on him. This time, she
simply pulled the hand out of his grasp and slapped his face with it. For
the rest of the movie, they sat in a silence that was even more
uncomfortable than the one my date and I shared.

When the movie was over, while James closed his pants, the girls left us.

"That was a disaster," James said as we walked to his car. We had planned
to get pizza with the girls after the movie so it wasn't a surprise to hear
him ask, "Want to call it a night and just head home?"

"Sure."

He took us through a drive-thru at a burger place on our way back to my
house. My parents were surprised to see us so early but didn't make a big
deal about us obviously not getting along with our dates.

While we ate, we chatted with them. James and I had pretty good
relationships with our parents and with each other's parents. I think it
was because we were relatively good kids. We got into our fair share of
minor trouble-occasional bad grades, not doing chores, staying out too late
on a school night at the other's house-but nothing that caused our parents
to distrust us and hover. After we finished eating and grabbed some more
snacks, we went up to my room.

Like James's room, my room had two double beds in it. In my room, they were
on opposite walls while those in his room were against adjacent walls with
the heads at right angles to each other. Because we spent so much time
together, we essentially had our own beds at each other's house and even
kept some clothes in the other's room even though we were similar enough in
size that we occasionally wore the other's clothes.

Once behind the closed door, we stripped down to our boxers and I turned on
the TV. "Game or movie?"

James was laying on his bed pawing his crotch with one hand while the other
was under his head.  "Whatever. I really need to bust a nut. I'm not going
to end up with blue balls because of Cara."

I sat on my bed and began to channel surf, searching for something to
divert my attention from the fact that he had reached into the slit of his
boxers, pulled out his large, floppy cock and was stroking it as if it were
a normal thing to do. He was difficult to ignore because it was easy to
register the movement of his fist in my peripheral vision. Despite my
slight discomfort, I periodically cut my eyes over to watch.  Sometimes his
eyes were open, drawn to whatever program I had stopped on, but mostly they
remained closed, watching whatever fantasy was helping his cause behind his
eyelids. This allowed me to watch him without being caught and in the
bright light of the room I had a better view of his cock than I'd had in
the theater.

Though the base was concealed by his boxers, there was what looked like
three fists worth of downward curving, thick cock sticking out of his
fly. Across the few feet that separated us, I could make out a few of the
thick veins that seemed to run along the surface of the pale skin.  His
wide, wedge shaped crown flared slightly where it joined a shaft that
widened slightly below it. The effect made his cock head appear tiny
despite the fact that it was longer and wider than my own. As he stroked
himself, a small amount of his foreskin flowed over the narrow ridge before
retreating. His fist moved slowly but insistently along the top half of his
cock. Every few strokes he would stop to smear his precum across his palm
or use his thumb to spread it over the tip.

In my shorts, my own dick was rigid and pushing out precum. I couldn't
believe I was sitting here watching my cousin unashamedly jerking off. I
had seen my fair share of porn but had never intentionally watched a guy do
more than stroke out his load onto a chick after fucking her. There was
something so much more erotic and horny about what James was doing though
he wasn't really doing anything. Even when I jerked off in the middle of
the night when he was in the room, I played with my nipples and rubbed my
abs for more stimulation. The entire time he stroked himself, his only
contact was between his fist and cock.

Because his left side was toward me with that hand under his head, I was
able to see his body tense just before he came. There was no other warning:
his breathing didn't change, he didn't groan or moan. Only after the first
volley left him did he make a soft grunt-sigh. Like in the theater, his
cock released more than a handful of thick shots with significant
force. Because of how he held his cock and the curve of it, they flew
toward the bottom of the bed and mostly landed on the sheets between his
feet and legs. The first few shots were exceptionally strong and cleared
the bed, explaining how I had been hit in the theater. Each subsequent
volley progressively decreased in intensity until the rest of his load
flowed thickly down his shaft and over his still moving hand as if he were
pissing cum.

No longer pretending to be interested in TV I stared at James during his
release. I couldn't believe what I had just seen and was unsure which was
more impressive, the size of his load or the force with which it shot
out. While I experienced powerful ejaculations when I was really turned on
and copious loads when I didn't jerk off for a while, it was twice now that
I saw James produce jaw dropping loads and I could only assume this was
normal for him.

After his flow thinned and slowed to a trickle, he opened his eyes. He
moved his left hand from under his head and slid it across the bed to reach
toward the floor. As he turned his head to locate his discarded shirt, he
saw me staring. "What?"

"Do you always shoot like that?" I tried to play cool and indifferent but
even I could hear the awe in my voice.

"Usually." He located his shirt and used it to clean his fist and
cock. "But if I'm really horny, it goes crazy."

"That's insane." Not turning my head, I openly watched James clean himself
then the bed. Unlike my loads that began to breakdown and turn watery after
a few seconds, his remained thick and blindingly white against the dark
sheets as he struggled to clean the sticky mess.

What seemed like ages later he seemed satisfied with his cleanup work. He
rolled toward me and looked like he was about to drop the shirt back on the
floor but saw me still staring and tossed the shirt at my face with a light
laugh. "If it's that interesting to you, keep it."

I flailed and sputtered when the sticky, wet garment hit my face. Letting
out a growl, I leaped off my bed across to him and attacked him, annoyed by
again having his cum touch me. We wrestled in a tangle of teenage limbs,
grunts and laughter. As we did, I was very aware that his shrinking cock
was still hanging out of his fly and leaving sticky trails of cock dregs on
me. There was no way he didn't feel my own hard dick poking into him as we
struggled against each other. Eventually, my mom knocked on the door and
told us to quiet down because she and my dad were headed to bed.

After giving him a last punch to his chest, I climbed back onto my bed and
as I settled in, I saw James tuck his cock away. We put on a movie and
talked for a bit. Halfway through, after a period of silence, I heard his
soft snoring.

With butterflies in my stomach, I waited a few minutes.

Then waited some more.

I turned my head and saw that his eyes were closed and mouth open with the
familiar relaxed expression of sleep on his upward turned face. With my
head still facing him, I moved a hand under my waistband and began to
slowly stroke my still hard dick. Though my eyes were looking at him,
watching for any sign of awakening, I wasn't seeing him. I was picturing
his cock and that spectacular load.

After he had unloaded onto me in the theater, I had stroked out a few loads
where, unbidden, the sensation and smell of his semen on me entered my
fantasies. Initially, it had bothered me but I realized it was no different
than watching porn and enjoying the money shot.

And that's how I felt now.

I was watching a video replay in my head that I pretended was the end of a
video fuck session. It wasn't my cousin jerking his cock but an actor paid
to perform.

Because I had been aroused for so long, it didn't take much time before I
began to shoot into my shorts.  Though I tried to remain as quiet as
possible, a soft gasp escaped me as I shut my eyes against the pleasurable
sensations coursing through my body. I slowed my hand but continued to
massage my dick through my orgasm, enjoying it to the fullest.

Once the wave passed, I opened my eyes and saw my cousin's head now facing
me. Though I could still hear the same even breathing, I thought I saw his
eyes quickly close. After a few uncertain minutes where he made no
movements, I assumed it was the flickering TV light in the otherwise dark
room that had caused the illusion and settled in to sleep.

After that night, James began to masturbate in front of me regularly. While
I typically dropped a load once a day before sleeping, I learned that he
usually dropped two but was happiest when he had the time to manage three:
once upon waking in the morning; at some point during the afternoon,
whether in a bathroom at school or home; and once in the evening. It
explained why he was always trying to get laid. When he did, it satisfied
him long enough to skip a few of his solo sessions. I became so used to his
masturbation routine that I could easily ignore it in favor of the TV or a
video game instead of being transfixed by what he was doing. The size of
his cock and loads no longer surprised me but, at times, I was still
riveted by the show.

We were in my room one day after school. I was sitting on the floor with my
back against my bed and James was sitting on the side of his. We had the TV
on but were doing homework and talking. As usual, we had both changed out
of the jeans we had worn to school into shorts. I quickly realized that in
our positions facing each other, I could see up his shorts and it wasn't
merely a titillating, partial view of flesh. Because he was freeballing,
the fleshy masses that made up his cock and balls were almost completely
visible through the left leg hole. Even soft, his cock draped languidly
over his balls with the tip resting on the bed. Each time I looked up, I
was easily able to see the puckered skin that capped his cock tucked
between his loose sack and thigh.

We had been at it for over an hour when he began to open and close his
legs. In the month or so that had passed since the first incident in the
theater, I had noticed that when he made that motion he was becoming
aroused and would soon be stroking out a fresh load.

True to form, each time I looked up, I saw his cock shift and twitch from
more than just the motion of his legs. Slowly at first, his cock swelled
and lengthened. I could see it stretch toward me along his leg.  Pointed in
my direction, the puckered end looked like a mouth pursed and ready for a
kiss. As it began to stiffen, the top half of his cock began to point
downward and the head of his cock began to scoot along the inside of his
nylon soccer shorts. Seemingly all at once, his cock went from soft to
rigid. With a jerking motion, the base rose to a high angle, supporting its
own weight and tenting his loose shorts. In the process, his foreskin
peeled back, reminding me of one of those time-lapse videos of a flower
blooming. Now exposed, I had an almost end-on view of his cock head and for
the first time saw the long piss slit that his wide crown wrapped around. I
also noticed for the first time that, even with the curve, his cock reached
more than halfway to his knee. It was one thing to see his length in his
fist, but another to see it measured against his body.

Because it had become so commonplace, I didn't react when he reached down
with his right hand and hiked up the leg of his shorts, exposing himself to
me. Almost absentmindedly, he began to massage, stroke, and rub his cock
against his thigh while we continued working and talking. As usual, he
focused mostly on the end of it and I soon saw the trickle of precum
start. Though he thumbed most of the slick fluid over his head, some of it
began to ooze onto his thigh.

Without a word, James set aside the notebook he was writing in and laid
back on the bed. He slid back a bit and placed his sock covered feet on the
edge of the bed, bending his knees. After adjusting the leg of his shorts
to free more of his cock, he began to stroke it in earnest. Unlike the
first two times he had pleasured himself in front of me, he now made soft
sounds as he masturbated.

I continued to do my homework but occasionally looked up to watch his
progress. Though his hand never moved quickly, I saw him thrust his hips in
countermotion to it. He had done it a few times before but this time I
found myself pausing for a moment to watch him fuck his fist. As I did, I
imagined he was slowly thrusting up into one of his girls, giving them a
gentle but deep fuck. My thoughts continued along that thread while I
watched him use whatever imaginary pussy his mind had conjured up until I
realized that I had begun to wonder what it would feel like to be impaled
on him. Quickly stopping that line of thinking, I allowed myself to wonder
what his cock felt like moving through his fist. I assumed it would have
the same stiff but soft feel that mine did but was curious about how the
lumpy veins felt that ran along it. James gave a soft grunt that announced
his orgasm and pulled me out of my own developing fantasies.

He pointed the head of his cock along his left thigh as his balls began to
unload. Curbed by his leg, his thick, clotted cream raced along his skin up
to his bent knee. The first two shots moved fast enough to break free and
arc out onto the floor. The remainder was slowed enough to linger on his
leg before dripping thickly to the bed.

When his hand fell from his cock and I heard his breath even out, I tossed
him one of my dirty shirts to use to clean himself. It had become part of
our ritual and I did it automatically.

What James didn't know was that I had begun another ritual. While
straightening my room the day after he had openly masturbated for the first
time in that bed, I found the shirt that he had tossed at me after using it
to clean himself. I had picked it up and got a whiff of his scent, a mix of
deodorant, cologne and body odor. Over it all was the slightly sweet smell
of stale, dried cum. Without consciously thinking about it, I put it to my
nose and inhaled deeply. Despite chastising myself for doing it, I hid it
away. That night, alone in my room, I stroked out a satisfying load with
the shirt over my face. Breathing in his scent and the evidence of his
self-pleasure got me more aroused than I had been in a while. Even as I did
it, I rationalized that it was just hormones, that even the scent of my own
cum rags often aroused me. It had nothing to do with James and was just a
byproduct of the fact that I hadn't been laid in months.

After James finished wiping his leg and the blanket clean, he tossed the
shirt back into the pile of clothes that I had retrieved it
from. Announcing that he was hungry, we went downstairs to get something to
eat.

As we left the room, I made a mental note of which shirt it was in order to
retrieve it later, though I knew I'd easily be able to find it by scent.

---

One Saturday afternoon, James and I were hanging out at his place. We
played a video game and watched some viral videos before we went outside to
shoot some hoops. While I wasn't as good of an athlete as he was, I could
hold my own against him.

After a few hours out on his driveway, we each got a text. Our parents were
at my house. They got together a few times a month at either home for a
family dinner. It wasn't a formal affair and rarely planned, usually
consisting of burgers and hot dogs on the grill, pizza, or something
equally low key.  They would chat and play board games until late at
night. Though we got along with our parents, they were still our parents
and James and I often engaged in a dine-and-dash on these
evenings. Sometimes we'd just head upstairs to entertain ourselves. More
often than not, we'd leave and go to the empty house in order to be
raucous, rambunctious teen boys until the adults got home.

Alerted that dinner would be ready soon, we went inside and upstairs. I
waited in James's room while he showered and sat playing on his laptop and
breathing deeply. Since I had started sniffing his shirts, I had become
much more aware of his scent. Until recently, I hadn't been aware of how it
lingered in and permeated his room. Even as we approached the open door to
his room, I could smell it spilling out into the hall. In my own world, I
was vaguely aware of the shower stopping but didn't realize he had left the
bathroom until he spoke.

"Do you know what we're having tonight?"

I looked up intending to answer but was rendered momentarily speechless.

James was standing in the doorway completely naked. He was using a towel to
dry his hair and stray drops of water stuck to his body. For the first
time, I saw not the kid that I had known growing up but the man he was
turning into. Though we were thin, for the longest time we each had a
shallow layer of baby fat on our bodies. His softness had disappeared and I
saw nothing but sinewy muscle on his body.  Mostly hairless, the hair he
did have on his body was confined to a light coating of brown on his legs
and forearms and a few random hairs on his square jaw. His torso was
completely devoid of it except for the thin trail that led down to his
manicured, but still bushy, pubic hair. From that small forest hung his
cock.  Completely soft and loose from the warm water, it and his balls
shook easily as he toweled his hair. I couldn't believe that in its relaxed
state, with the ample foreskin that hung beyond his concealed cock head, it
appeared only an inch or so shy of being as long as my hardest
erection. Through the thin, excess skin I could see the outline of his
blunt crown. Though it was only a fraction of his erect size, it was still
large and impressive. Behind his shaft hung a pair of balls that were
equally as remarkable. They were suspended unevenly, one appearing to rest
almost directly atop the other in their sack. The bag they hung in looked
to be stretched further by their weight and came to rest just before the
end of his foreskin, even with the end of his crown. I could see a few
wispy, light colored hairs on his scrotum but considered it hairless.

"I think we're having a taco bar," I answered weakly as I closed the
computer. "I'll meet you downstairs.  I'm going to get some water."

"'K. Be down in a sec," he said as I brushed passed him.

In the kitchen I poured a glass of water and took my time drinking it,
gathering my thoughts. I couldn't believe that I had just ogled my best
friend. My cousin. My male cousin. Not only that, but I still felt the
familiar warmth in my groin and the tightness that accompanied
arousal. There was no way I could have a thing for James. It wasn't
possible.

While I stood at the counter, I saw James enter and nearly dropped my
glass.

He had dressed in a tight white tank top that hugged his developing
muscles. I could see the ripple and swell of his pecs and abs through the
thin fabric. Hanging off his hips were a pair of thin basketball shorts
that did nothing to hide the fact that he was freeballing. My eyes traveled
down legs that would easily look at home on a runner to see a pair of black
ankle socks on feet that were slipped into a pair of black slides
emblazoned with a white athletic logo. Moving my eyes back up to his face,
I saw he had pulled his still damp hair into a tight ponytail revealing the
moderately sized square faux-diamond earrings he sometimes wore. His
green-hazel eyes stared blankly at me, unsure of my startled reaction.

In that moment I couldn't deny that James was hot. Not only that, I
realized I was crushing on him. Hard.

"Mike? You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Fine. Just startled." It was true, but not for the reason he would
think.

"You saw me come in."

"Yeah, but I wasn't really paying attention. Kinda off in my own world
then, bam, there you were."

James chuckled and shook his head. "Stop being a dumbass. Let's go."

When he turned, I glanced at his ass and restrained a moan seeing the twin
mounds of flesh. The high- riding bubbles distended the fabric enough that
the deep cleft between the cheeks had trapped some of the fabric and pulled
his shorts tight across them. I couldn't believe that I had never noticed
his ass until now then quickly told myself I shouldn't be noticing it at
all.

For the rest of the night, I tried to keep up a normal conversation with
James but kept zoning out as I had a separate conversation with myself in
my head. Putting aside the issue of James being my cousin, I reminded
myself that I liked girls, that I wasn't into guys. I gradually began to
realize that for a while I hadn't actually been interested in any of the
girls that I had sought out which was why I had stopped dating. I had
thought it was because I found them boring, sharing none of my
interests. Even the last few times I had sex with one of them paled in
comparison to the orgasms I had been having while thinking about James.

As I thought back over the past year, I could remember checking out a few
guys around school, thinking it had been simple curiosity and respect that
drew my eyes. I could recall more about how they looked and smelled sitting
next to me in class or at lunch than I could about the female classmates I
had bedded, the girl who had been my first included. I knew gay guys and
had no problem with them. I just never thought I was one. But the more I
thought about it, the more I came to realize that women truly held no
interest for me. While watching porn, I had always focused on the dick and
not the pussy. And the fact that seeing James's cock always got me hard
seemed to be proof of my inclination.

Halfway through dinner, I told James and our parents I wasn't feeling well
then went upstairs to my room and stared at the ceiling in disbelief as I
lay on my bed. My parents came to check on me and I gave them a line about
feeling drained because of running around with James earlier. They bought
it and left me alone.

After everyone left, I pulled out James's most recent hidden shirt and
jerked off sniffing it. Though I felt relief and self-acceptance, I cried
after I came knowing that my life was going to be different.