“How hard are you?” I asked interrupting Adam. “Very hard, you can see my cock standing like a pole in my crotch and then you let your bra…”...Adam continued telling his dream. “No, I mean right now. How hard are you right now?” I asked. Adam looked at me for a few seconds as if he was asking me if I really wanted to see his cock or not. He got up and took off his pants and underwear. Now we both had our tops and t-shirts on but no pants. Adam’s cock was as hard as a rock. I kept looking at his. I half-stood, half-leaned there, supported only by his arm and clinging with my little fists to his floaty (that’s a fisherman’s special jacket, which usually holds itself upright because of the stink of rotting sand eel and squid, but his mother had washed it four times before I arrived to stay, so it wasn’t too bad), and frozen in fear. I could feel his lips, fairly full and shapely, on mine. It felt warm and soft and… terrifying and lovely and… blimey, I thought, what do I do now? You know. More

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