07-11-2025, 02:48 PM
“Nature dances to the beat of the unknown; its whims are like waves
that teach us to live in the moment and embrace the unexpected.
In its play of light and shadow, it shows us
that life often writes the most beautiful stories.”
Am I sick? Possibly.
A great many people would see it that way. But I don't feel sick at all. No, definitely not! At most a little different. But who can really be held responsible for being on this earth? Nobody chose whether they would become he or she or something completely different, have light skin, dark or blonde hair or whatever... Nor whom or what you love. The whims of nature are not really predictable. Anyone who claims otherwise is lying...
The process of “becoming aware” of one's own “self” is a very personal, often very rocky and sometimes tearful journey for each person.
I have to finally write it down, this story of mine, otherwise I'll end up going crazy.
Maybe someone who has had a similar life experience will read it and be able to relate to how I feel.
But now to me, I'm Julian. I've probably grown up a bit, but sometimes I haven't. I was born in a medium-sized town in northern Hesse. I grew up as an only child, my parents were always empathetic, trusting and just great parents. If you like, you will learn more about them later. Even as a young boy, I was interested in sports, outdoor games and activities in nature. As far back as I can remember, I always had boy friends. But I also know that I always sought physical closeness with my friends, and I always somehow sought out fights with them. I always wanted to be the stronger one, tie them up, gag them, but always touch them. Sometimes it made me feel a little queasy, but that felt good. For a long time I didn't know what it was.
I was never interested in girls. When we heard the terms breast or body later in elementary school, they were never words that I associated with girls. At the outdoor pool, I always looked at the bodies of boys around the same age or a little older. I secretly hoped to see one or the other naked.
Then something happened that impressed me so much that I still carry this image inside me today. I was about 9 years old, and our class had planned a trip at the end of the school year. I had arranged with my friend Andy, who I had often visited, that I would pick him up at home. I must have been there a little early. His parents opened the door for me. Since Andy had not yet gotten up, they sent me right into the children's room. Andy was still in bed, pretending to be asleep. When I closed the door behind me, he jumped up with a loud battle cry. We both had to laugh out loud. He pulled off his pajama bottoms with a jerk, flung them at me and began to jump around naked on his bed. Again and again, I froze. His little willy jumped up and down in time with his jumps, over and over again. A loud laugh accompanied his jumping. I couldn't move, I stared at my friend's beguiling game as if spellbound. That was definitely the defining moment for me...
Nothing more happened. As I said, I now knew what I liked. But not much more back then. My realization didn't change our friendship; we were much too young for anything else. I never forgot Andy.
Much later, during my time in the military, I met him again. He also recognized me and seemed happy. He was still cute but somehow a pretty used-up guy, which was a shame.
After elementary school, right at the beginning of the summer vacation, our family moved to a small town in northern Hesse due to my parents' job changes, or rather to a small, insignificant village near the town.
My new school was the grammar school in the nearby district town. I was a pretty good student, I enjoyed learning and I quickly found a few friends again. Friends, well, yes.
The move was, of course, a huge turning point in my young life, but I quickly found my way around in the new environment
I usually took the school bus to school with a few other children from the village. The bus had a stop right outside our village. Three others from my class regularly took the bus from the neighboring village. Lukas, Franz and Therese. I became quite close friends with her, like real friends. She was bright, cheerful and understanding. I could talk to her about anything that was on my mind, well, almost anything. I think she quickly realized that I only wanted to be friends with her, but she always stuck by me. Sometimes my mom, Susanne, took me into town with her. She had found a job here as a department manager at the local branch of a bank. My dad Lars had found a job as deputy managing director in a large automotive company nearby. They bought us a great single-family house, where I got my own big room with a balcony and even a bathroom just for me on the first floor. My old children's room furniture had been disposed of, and I was allowed to choose everything for my room myself.
I had already started running training in my old home country, my favorite distances were the 5,000 and later the 10,000 meters. Our sports teacher at my new school, Mr. Kusche, was a long-distance runner himself and so I soon made good progress under his guidance and was able to steadily improve my times. We were a fairly small training group of long-distance runners; I was in the fifth grade and the youngest, with two eighth-graders and one from the eleventh. Yes, I admit it. Of course, every time after training, I secretly stared at the “treasures” of the older ones in the shower. But it didn't bother them that I, a little guy, was staring at them with interest. On the contrary, maybe they were proud to be able to show me something I didn't have yet. I watched them enthusiastically as they soaped their bodies in the shower and then lolled under the water jet. Thanks to my training performance, I quickly gained their recognition and so there were never any stupid comments from them. Only one, Magnus, a red-haired sprinter who was in the seventh grade at the time, occasionally grumbled, but was quickly put in his place by the older ones. Sometimes I would lie in my bed at night and dream of having such a great body and such a thick head of hair. Over time, my body changed too. Sometimes I felt a stormy restlessness in me that I couldn't describe. I noticed more and more often that there was something new in me, more and more often I got an involuntary boner. That was very uncomfortable for me, especially in the shower with my training buddies. I'm sure they noticed it too, but there was never a stupid comment.
Sometimes I overheard the adults laughing about something, but I didn't understand what it was. Sometimes I heard the word wank or wanking in the noise of the shower. Logically, I didn't dare to ask what they meant.
But at some point I also overheard from their conversations that Mr. Kusche's first name was also Julian, which made him even more likeable to me.
Stop! Anyone who is now thinking in a certain direction is completely wrong.
Mr. Kusche is a great person and was a very dedicated sports teacher. Later, at the graduation ball, he offered me the “you”. Out of respect, I still can't manage to address him informally when we meet.
After the seventh grade in summer camp, all the boys in my group had a girlfriend, but not me. However, I had a special crush on a boy from my group, Yannik. At night, he slept in the bunk bed above me. In the swimming pool or in the shower, I almost died when he was around. Unfortunately, all the girls in our age group also found him attractive, which flattered him a lot. Our group leader, Peter, a trainee teacher, was a cool guy. During a hike on a really hot day, he led us to a hidden forest lake. We begged him if we could not take a quick swim in the lake. Peter hesitated, but he was in charge. When asked if anyone had a swimming costume, we all shook our heads, nobody had thought of that, not even Peter. He took our oath that no one could find out about our swim, and especially not that he and all of us were naked in the lake. I have to admit that it was the best experience of my time at summer camp, swimming naked in a forest lake with Yannik and the other boys in my group who were the same age. I was never able to look at other boys so freely and carefree again. Our oath held, and for a long time that evening and on the following days, we raved about our secret trip. Unfortunately, Peter had to leave earlier for some reason, but among ourselves we said that he had been fired. Somehow the camp leader had probably gotten wind of our nude excursion, which was a shame.
At the final disco, I had an experience that left a lasting impression on me. Towards the end, when the mood had become really exuberant and the ladies had chosen the men, a fat girl actually jumped on me and pulled me onto the dance floor. There she squeezed my face between her massive breasts. She didn't let me out of her arms even when the music changed to a slow song. On the contrary, she started kissing me and then tried to push her tongue between my lips. Horrified, I broke free and ran out of the room. I felt really sick.
Later in our group room, Yannik said to me that he would have felt sick in my place too. Then he surprised me by saying, “Man, Juli, it's a shame you're not gay, you're a great guy.” Eh, what now? What did he mean? Until now, I had only ever understood this word, which some people used, as derogatory, dirty and disgusting. Now a boy I found impressive regretted that I...? Fortunately it was dark enough in the room so that he didn't notice that I blushed bright red and had to swallow mightily. I didn't answer him, I just nodded. For a long time I lay awake on my bed and brooded, above me Yannik lay and rolled around restlessly in his bed... What had I missed? Unfortunately, I never saw him again.
Another very significant event for me also occurred around this time. After the vacation camp, I had an appointment for an operation. I was circumcised for medical reasons. The operation had become necessary relatively late for my age and was, logically, very unpleasant. But mom and dad had said it would be good for my health later on.
My father himself is not circumcised, but I always saw mom and dad naked on our summer vacation at the Baltic Sea. In general, we are very relaxed about nudity in our family. I have been accustomed to it since I was old enough to think.
But I still hadn't got used to the situation where my penis head was exposed. I always found it stupid when, for example, I was in the classroom or even more so in gym class, the free glans touched my boxer shorts or gym shorts, which was almost a problem. This was especially the case during gymnastics and when there was a lot of movement when running.
I'm sure every boy can imagine what it's like when you have to play leapfrog with a hard-on in your pants.
Sometimes the glans even slipped out of the bottom of my pants, which was really embarrassing. Fortunately, nobody usually noticed.
I hadn't yet realized that you should wear tights under your gym shorts during sports.
Our gym teacher, who was also our trainer, had recently mentioned this to me in private after he had noticed that I was sometimes a bit uncoordinated during running training and had fumbled around in my pants every now and then. What had he seen? I was sure I had a bright red head, how embarrassing. But it was just fair of him. When I talked to mom about it, she was very understanding. The next day, she brought me one of those tights from the city.
For Christmas that year, my parents and I traveled to Erlenhausen. We had also lived here until we moved. We visited my aunt and my two younger cousins in the run-up to Christmas. I remember that I was maybe 14 years old at the time and in the eighth grade. I have a birthday in April, at Easter, and I was about to turn 15. The older of the boys, Markus, was 13 and the other, Sebastian, was about 11 years old.
But no one called him that except his mother, my Aunt Anne.
We had always called him Basti. We knew each other well from an early age and, although my cousins were younger, we were like brothers. We often vacationed together with our parents or visited each other on holidays. We belonged together. We hadn't seen each other for quite a while because we had moved away.
The day before Christmas, the adults had taken 11-year-old Sebastian to the Christmas market in town. We two “big ones” didn't feel like it, so I found myself alone with the older of the two, up in the children's room.
We played on his console, made immature jokes and chased each other around the house, which finally ended in a playful scuffle in the children's room. At the end of our wrestling match, we found ourselves sweaty on the carpet in front of Markus' bed. I was sitting on his chest, had my knees on his upper arms and was holding his wrists firmly pressed to the floor. His sweater had ridden up, exposing his belly button, and his jeans had also ridden down a bit over his hips during the struggle.
He had put up a mighty fight, I could feel his muscles and his strength. We were both breathing heavily, and I was having a hard time holding him down.
He tried to wriggle out from under me again, lifting his pelvis and trying to throw me off. He tossed his head from side to side, his sweaty hair flying into his face. He didn't stand a chance; his strength seemed to be ebbing away.
I was a little taller and heavier than him, so in the end he had to surrender.
Somehow I found his impetuous resistance exciting and now realized that I... Astonished, I looked at my crotch. My cousin followed my gaze and chuckled briefly. Then, thoughtful and confused, he swallowed several times and looked into my eyes, lost in thought. Then he plucked up the courage and asked me something quietly, almost in a whisper...
I was irritated, and as if in slow motion, I let go of his arms, raised my knees and leaned back a little. At that moment, he clenched his abdomen under me and pulled his legs up. “Man, my...” ..., he groaned and took a deep breath.
“Sorry,” I mumbled absentmindedly. Now I felt what had happened under my butt during our romp. He looked at me uncertainly.
Uh, what had he just asked? Did I understand him correctly? He wanted what?
I was interested, although I was probably more advanced in this respect than he was. At school, some boys had already talked about wanking, but I only had a vague idea of what else you can do with your penis besides peeing. My mind started racing.
I became curious, hesitated briefly, nodded imperceptibly to him and crawled down from him. Well, we both eagerly agreed to just look at each other.
We were both wearing jeans and sweaters, but it still only took a few seconds for us to get undressed. We grabbed a flashlight, climbed into his bed, and snuggled under the covers. We just dropped our clothes in front of the bed.
As adolescent boys, we were still very shy, even if we didn't really know why. What we saw on the other was just exciting. Of course, we compared our treasures with each other. Markus came up with the idea that we could just measure, not as a comparison, just like that. Although the result was actually already clear, I agreed immediately.
So he quickly jumped out from under the covers to his desk as he was. I stared after his cute little behind, spellbound. I could hardly tear myself away from the sight. Markus quickly rummaged for a small ruler in a drawer and then scurried back under the covers to me.
We were both amazed at our “measurement results”...
He was very surprised that I was circumcised and already had a bushy pubic hair. That made me proud. He repeatedly looked at my exposed glans with admiration. Apparently he had never seen his own glans exposed.
Markus had thrown the blanket on the floor and we were sitting opposite each other. He asked if he could touch mine. I didn't really want him to touch mine, but he begged, saying, “Don't be so shy, we're like brothers.” Indecisive, I nodded. My younger cousin giggled foolishly and cautiously stretched out his hand and stroked my... He winced, I was a little startled, because the touch immediately had an amazing effect. He chuckled again and told me that it now felt strangely hard.
A slight restlessness came over my body, and I quickly gripped his wrist and stopped the movement of his hand.
He looked up at me, frightened and uncertain, and pulled his hand back.
“It feels strange, but you'd better stop. I feel so weird.”
What was that? I felt a growing restlessness inside me.
I had tilted my head back slightly, my gaze caught by the lamp in the children's room.
Markus let out a small scream, pointed at my glans and asked, quite shocked: “What is that?!”
I looked down and saw that a little slimy, glassy white juice was visible on the tip of my penis.
I was shocked myself, I had never seen that before.
A loud rumble was heard on the stairs to the children's room. Someone was storming up the stairs! We hadn't heard the front door being unlocked during our game.
The door to the children's room flew open, his 11-year-old brother Basti stormed into the room and stopped in the middle of the room as if rooted to the spot.
Our heads turned to the door – we were so surprised that we couldn't move and remained frozen in our position.
The little one held his breath and opened his eyes wide... Then he took a deep breath as if he wanted to say something.
Markus was the first to recover.
“Shut up and close the door!” he said dryly.
that teach us to live in the moment and embrace the unexpected.
In its play of light and shadow, it shows us
that life often writes the most beautiful stories.”
Am I sick? Possibly.
A great many people would see it that way. But I don't feel sick at all. No, definitely not! At most a little different. But who can really be held responsible for being on this earth? Nobody chose whether they would become he or she or something completely different, have light skin, dark or blonde hair or whatever... Nor whom or what you love. The whims of nature are not really predictable. Anyone who claims otherwise is lying...
The process of “becoming aware” of one's own “self” is a very personal, often very rocky and sometimes tearful journey for each person.
I have to finally write it down, this story of mine, otherwise I'll end up going crazy.
Maybe someone who has had a similar life experience will read it and be able to relate to how I feel.
But now to me, I'm Julian. I've probably grown up a bit, but sometimes I haven't. I was born in a medium-sized town in northern Hesse. I grew up as an only child, my parents were always empathetic, trusting and just great parents. If you like, you will learn more about them later. Even as a young boy, I was interested in sports, outdoor games and activities in nature. As far back as I can remember, I always had boy friends. But I also know that I always sought physical closeness with my friends, and I always somehow sought out fights with them. I always wanted to be the stronger one, tie them up, gag them, but always touch them. Sometimes it made me feel a little queasy, but that felt good. For a long time I didn't know what it was.
I was never interested in girls. When we heard the terms breast or body later in elementary school, they were never words that I associated with girls. At the outdoor pool, I always looked at the bodies of boys around the same age or a little older. I secretly hoped to see one or the other naked.
Then something happened that impressed me so much that I still carry this image inside me today. I was about 9 years old, and our class had planned a trip at the end of the school year. I had arranged with my friend Andy, who I had often visited, that I would pick him up at home. I must have been there a little early. His parents opened the door for me. Since Andy had not yet gotten up, they sent me right into the children's room. Andy was still in bed, pretending to be asleep. When I closed the door behind me, he jumped up with a loud battle cry. We both had to laugh out loud. He pulled off his pajama bottoms with a jerk, flung them at me and began to jump around naked on his bed. Again and again, I froze. His little willy jumped up and down in time with his jumps, over and over again. A loud laugh accompanied his jumping. I couldn't move, I stared at my friend's beguiling game as if spellbound. That was definitely the defining moment for me...
Nothing more happened. As I said, I now knew what I liked. But not much more back then. My realization didn't change our friendship; we were much too young for anything else. I never forgot Andy.
Much later, during my time in the military, I met him again. He also recognized me and seemed happy. He was still cute but somehow a pretty used-up guy, which was a shame.
After elementary school, right at the beginning of the summer vacation, our family moved to a small town in northern Hesse due to my parents' job changes, or rather to a small, insignificant village near the town.
My new school was the grammar school in the nearby district town. I was a pretty good student, I enjoyed learning and I quickly found a few friends again. Friends, well, yes.
The move was, of course, a huge turning point in my young life, but I quickly found my way around in the new environment
I usually took the school bus to school with a few other children from the village. The bus had a stop right outside our village. Three others from my class regularly took the bus from the neighboring village. Lukas, Franz and Therese. I became quite close friends with her, like real friends. She was bright, cheerful and understanding. I could talk to her about anything that was on my mind, well, almost anything. I think she quickly realized that I only wanted to be friends with her, but she always stuck by me. Sometimes my mom, Susanne, took me into town with her. She had found a job here as a department manager at the local branch of a bank. My dad Lars had found a job as deputy managing director in a large automotive company nearby. They bought us a great single-family house, where I got my own big room with a balcony and even a bathroom just for me on the first floor. My old children's room furniture had been disposed of, and I was allowed to choose everything for my room myself.
I had already started running training in my old home country, my favorite distances were the 5,000 and later the 10,000 meters. Our sports teacher at my new school, Mr. Kusche, was a long-distance runner himself and so I soon made good progress under his guidance and was able to steadily improve my times. We were a fairly small training group of long-distance runners; I was in the fifth grade and the youngest, with two eighth-graders and one from the eleventh. Yes, I admit it. Of course, every time after training, I secretly stared at the “treasures” of the older ones in the shower. But it didn't bother them that I, a little guy, was staring at them with interest. On the contrary, maybe they were proud to be able to show me something I didn't have yet. I watched them enthusiastically as they soaped their bodies in the shower and then lolled under the water jet. Thanks to my training performance, I quickly gained their recognition and so there were never any stupid comments from them. Only one, Magnus, a red-haired sprinter who was in the seventh grade at the time, occasionally grumbled, but was quickly put in his place by the older ones. Sometimes I would lie in my bed at night and dream of having such a great body and such a thick head of hair. Over time, my body changed too. Sometimes I felt a stormy restlessness in me that I couldn't describe. I noticed more and more often that there was something new in me, more and more often I got an involuntary boner. That was very uncomfortable for me, especially in the shower with my training buddies. I'm sure they noticed it too, but there was never a stupid comment.
Sometimes I overheard the adults laughing about something, but I didn't understand what it was. Sometimes I heard the word wank or wanking in the noise of the shower. Logically, I didn't dare to ask what they meant.
But at some point I also overheard from their conversations that Mr. Kusche's first name was also Julian, which made him even more likeable to me.
Stop! Anyone who is now thinking in a certain direction is completely wrong.
Mr. Kusche is a great person and was a very dedicated sports teacher. Later, at the graduation ball, he offered me the “you”. Out of respect, I still can't manage to address him informally when we meet.
After the seventh grade in summer camp, all the boys in my group had a girlfriend, but not me. However, I had a special crush on a boy from my group, Yannik. At night, he slept in the bunk bed above me. In the swimming pool or in the shower, I almost died when he was around. Unfortunately, all the girls in our age group also found him attractive, which flattered him a lot. Our group leader, Peter, a trainee teacher, was a cool guy. During a hike on a really hot day, he led us to a hidden forest lake. We begged him if we could not take a quick swim in the lake. Peter hesitated, but he was in charge. When asked if anyone had a swimming costume, we all shook our heads, nobody had thought of that, not even Peter. He took our oath that no one could find out about our swim, and especially not that he and all of us were naked in the lake. I have to admit that it was the best experience of my time at summer camp, swimming naked in a forest lake with Yannik and the other boys in my group who were the same age. I was never able to look at other boys so freely and carefree again. Our oath held, and for a long time that evening and on the following days, we raved about our secret trip. Unfortunately, Peter had to leave earlier for some reason, but among ourselves we said that he had been fired. Somehow the camp leader had probably gotten wind of our nude excursion, which was a shame.
At the final disco, I had an experience that left a lasting impression on me. Towards the end, when the mood had become really exuberant and the ladies had chosen the men, a fat girl actually jumped on me and pulled me onto the dance floor. There she squeezed my face between her massive breasts. She didn't let me out of her arms even when the music changed to a slow song. On the contrary, she started kissing me and then tried to push her tongue between my lips. Horrified, I broke free and ran out of the room. I felt really sick.
Later in our group room, Yannik said to me that he would have felt sick in my place too. Then he surprised me by saying, “Man, Juli, it's a shame you're not gay, you're a great guy.” Eh, what now? What did he mean? Until now, I had only ever understood this word, which some people used, as derogatory, dirty and disgusting. Now a boy I found impressive regretted that I...? Fortunately it was dark enough in the room so that he didn't notice that I blushed bright red and had to swallow mightily. I didn't answer him, I just nodded. For a long time I lay awake on my bed and brooded, above me Yannik lay and rolled around restlessly in his bed... What had I missed? Unfortunately, I never saw him again.
Another very significant event for me also occurred around this time. After the vacation camp, I had an appointment for an operation. I was circumcised for medical reasons. The operation had become necessary relatively late for my age and was, logically, very unpleasant. But mom and dad had said it would be good for my health later on.
My father himself is not circumcised, but I always saw mom and dad naked on our summer vacation at the Baltic Sea. In general, we are very relaxed about nudity in our family. I have been accustomed to it since I was old enough to think.
But I still hadn't got used to the situation where my penis head was exposed. I always found it stupid when, for example, I was in the classroom or even more so in gym class, the free glans touched my boxer shorts or gym shorts, which was almost a problem. This was especially the case during gymnastics and when there was a lot of movement when running.
I'm sure every boy can imagine what it's like when you have to play leapfrog with a hard-on in your pants.
Sometimes the glans even slipped out of the bottom of my pants, which was really embarrassing. Fortunately, nobody usually noticed.
I hadn't yet realized that you should wear tights under your gym shorts during sports.
Our gym teacher, who was also our trainer, had recently mentioned this to me in private after he had noticed that I was sometimes a bit uncoordinated during running training and had fumbled around in my pants every now and then. What had he seen? I was sure I had a bright red head, how embarrassing. But it was just fair of him. When I talked to mom about it, she was very understanding. The next day, she brought me one of those tights from the city.
For Christmas that year, my parents and I traveled to Erlenhausen. We had also lived here until we moved. We visited my aunt and my two younger cousins in the run-up to Christmas. I remember that I was maybe 14 years old at the time and in the eighth grade. I have a birthday in April, at Easter, and I was about to turn 15. The older of the boys, Markus, was 13 and the other, Sebastian, was about 11 years old.
But no one called him that except his mother, my Aunt Anne.
We had always called him Basti. We knew each other well from an early age and, although my cousins were younger, we were like brothers. We often vacationed together with our parents or visited each other on holidays. We belonged together. We hadn't seen each other for quite a while because we had moved away.
The day before Christmas, the adults had taken 11-year-old Sebastian to the Christmas market in town. We two “big ones” didn't feel like it, so I found myself alone with the older of the two, up in the children's room.
We played on his console, made immature jokes and chased each other around the house, which finally ended in a playful scuffle in the children's room. At the end of our wrestling match, we found ourselves sweaty on the carpet in front of Markus' bed. I was sitting on his chest, had my knees on his upper arms and was holding his wrists firmly pressed to the floor. His sweater had ridden up, exposing his belly button, and his jeans had also ridden down a bit over his hips during the struggle.
He had put up a mighty fight, I could feel his muscles and his strength. We were both breathing heavily, and I was having a hard time holding him down.
He tried to wriggle out from under me again, lifting his pelvis and trying to throw me off. He tossed his head from side to side, his sweaty hair flying into his face. He didn't stand a chance; his strength seemed to be ebbing away.
I was a little taller and heavier than him, so in the end he had to surrender.
Somehow I found his impetuous resistance exciting and now realized that I... Astonished, I looked at my crotch. My cousin followed my gaze and chuckled briefly. Then, thoughtful and confused, he swallowed several times and looked into my eyes, lost in thought. Then he plucked up the courage and asked me something quietly, almost in a whisper...
I was irritated, and as if in slow motion, I let go of his arms, raised my knees and leaned back a little. At that moment, he clenched his abdomen under me and pulled his legs up. “Man, my...” ..., he groaned and took a deep breath.
“Sorry,” I mumbled absentmindedly. Now I felt what had happened under my butt during our romp. He looked at me uncertainly.
Uh, what had he just asked? Did I understand him correctly? He wanted what?
I was interested, although I was probably more advanced in this respect than he was. At school, some boys had already talked about wanking, but I only had a vague idea of what else you can do with your penis besides peeing. My mind started racing.
I became curious, hesitated briefly, nodded imperceptibly to him and crawled down from him. Well, we both eagerly agreed to just look at each other.
We were both wearing jeans and sweaters, but it still only took a few seconds for us to get undressed. We grabbed a flashlight, climbed into his bed, and snuggled under the covers. We just dropped our clothes in front of the bed.
As adolescent boys, we were still very shy, even if we didn't really know why. What we saw on the other was just exciting. Of course, we compared our treasures with each other. Markus came up with the idea that we could just measure, not as a comparison, just like that. Although the result was actually already clear, I agreed immediately.
So he quickly jumped out from under the covers to his desk as he was. I stared after his cute little behind, spellbound. I could hardly tear myself away from the sight. Markus quickly rummaged for a small ruler in a drawer and then scurried back under the covers to me.
We were both amazed at our “measurement results”...
He was very surprised that I was circumcised and already had a bushy pubic hair. That made me proud. He repeatedly looked at my exposed glans with admiration. Apparently he had never seen his own glans exposed.
Markus had thrown the blanket on the floor and we were sitting opposite each other. He asked if he could touch mine. I didn't really want him to touch mine, but he begged, saying, “Don't be so shy, we're like brothers.” Indecisive, I nodded. My younger cousin giggled foolishly and cautiously stretched out his hand and stroked my... He winced, I was a little startled, because the touch immediately had an amazing effect. He chuckled again and told me that it now felt strangely hard.
A slight restlessness came over my body, and I quickly gripped his wrist and stopped the movement of his hand.
He looked up at me, frightened and uncertain, and pulled his hand back.
“It feels strange, but you'd better stop. I feel so weird.”
What was that? I felt a growing restlessness inside me.
I had tilted my head back slightly, my gaze caught by the lamp in the children's room.
Markus let out a small scream, pointed at my glans and asked, quite shocked: “What is that?!”
I looked down and saw that a little slimy, glassy white juice was visible on the tip of my penis.
I was shocked myself, I had never seen that before.
A loud rumble was heard on the stairs to the children's room. Someone was storming up the stairs! We hadn't heard the front door being unlocked during our game.
The door to the children's room flew open, his 11-year-old brother Basti stormed into the room and stopped in the middle of the room as if rooted to the spot.
Our heads turned to the door – we were so surprised that we couldn't move and remained frozen in our position.
The little one held his breath and opened his eyes wide... Then he took a deep breath as if he wanted to say something.
Markus was the first to recover.
“Shut up and close the door!” he said dryly.