Chapter 3: It Wasn’t A Dream

As John’s mouth opened in surprise, his face went red, the first time it had done so for ages. ‘Just answer me one more question,’ Lewis said, ‘Did your next experience with Roland happen before or after your problem arose?’ ‘Before.’ John said sadly as he started to remember what had happened and why he was there. He had been enjoying himself so much he had forgotten.

‘Sit up,’ Lewis told him. He moved to the side so they could have another hug and a kiss, then he returned to the end of the settee. John lay back without being told. As his head touched Lewis’s lap, he just relaxed completely.

‘Ok,’ Lewis said, ‘It’s time to get rid of your problem for good. Start at the beginning and tell me every single thing that happened, including your thoughts and feelings as it all happened. I’ll only interrupt with questions if I have to, I’d much rather you just went right through it on your own if you can.’

‘I’ll try,’ John said, ‘But I really feel that I’ll be able to now.’ He lay still for a few moments collecting his thoughts. Then with a brief smile at Lewis he began.

‘The first special holiday with Roland was when we were both just turned fifteen,’ John said. ‘The second special one was three months later. Then when I was fifteen and a half, dad had another bad do with his heart. He was rushed into hospital and then sent to a specialist heart hospital on the far side of the County.’

‘It turned out he had a broken valve in his heart which, coupled with his ongoing heart problems would very likely be fatal. The consultant said, the only option was open heart surgery. ‘I wouldn’t normally recommend it to someone with all your other problems,’ he told dad, ‘But I can see no other option.’

‘Mum had a distant cousin who lived near the hospital, so she and I went to stay there whilst he had the operation. It was scheduled for two days later. Being local we were able to visit as much as possible before the operation.’

‘The consultant had told us it was at best a fifty-fifty chance that dad would survive, so we were allowed to spend a lot of time with him. Two days later he had the operation. Afterwards the consultant said everything had gone well.’

‘They had opened up his chest and put him on a machine to circulate his blood so that they could stop his heart. Then they were able to open it up and repair the valve, which was better than replacing it. Dad had come round after the operation and was in intensive care for close monitoring.’

‘The next day he was moved to the ordinary cardiac ward, and we could visit briefly. He looked good, apart from an enormous plaster down the middle of his chest. Actually, he looked better than he had done for ages. After our visit we saw the consultant who told us he was recovering exceptionally well, and he saw no reason why he wouldn’t make a full recovery.’

‘Mum decided we would stay for a week, so we could visit every day just in case, then he could be transferred to our local hospital. I was more than happy to be out of school.’

‘Where we were staying was a small cottage. Originally one bedroom in the roof, it had had a rear extension which was a second bedroom and an ensuite bathroom. Mum’s cousin having difficulty with her legs used that bedroom and as it had a double bed, mum shared it with her.’

‘Living there too was a cousin of mum’s cousin, I never managed to work out if we were any relation to him. He had lived there for the past three years. As far as we could tell they got on well, but he seemed to be there more as a lodger than in any sort of relationship.’

‘He had the bedroom in the roof which also had a double bed. I had to share with him. He was about forty and seemed nice enough, we all got on ok and shared meals together.’

‘The first night when I went up to bed, I was a bit concerned about sharing a double bed with him, thinking that after my holidays with Roland, I would be more likely to cuddle up in the night.’

‘When he went to the bathroom I got changed and got into bed. I assumed he would get changed in the bathroom but when he came back, he was still dressed. I had brought a book with me and was sitting up reading.’

‘He started to strip off, so I buried my head in the book. Suddenly he said, ‘John, can you pass me a pair of shorts out of the middle drawer your side please,’ ‘Sure,’ I said twisting round and opening it.’

‘When I turned to pass them to him, he was standing at the side of the bed just in a pair of white underpants. As I passed him the shorts, he said, ‘Thanks.’ I couldn’t help but notice that the bulge in his underpants looked very small.’

‘My thoughts ran along the line of, ‘He could be as small as I am, and I wondered if he’d ever had a girlfriend. Then I wondered if he had managed to satisfy her, so I was still looking towards him without thinking.’

‘I suddenly realised that he had taken his underpants off, and I could see his cock. As he pulled his shorts on, my impression was it might even be smaller than mine. I felt sorry for him.’

‘He was a couple of inches shorter than I was, but his chest was much broader, and he looked very strong. He was muscular and had very little fat on him. Steve told me later he worked on a building site.’

‘He must have realised I’d seen his cock because he said, ‘I was at the end of the line when they gave cocks out.’ ‘I know the feeling,’ I said, ‘I’m only small too.’ Then thinking that might upset him I said, ‘Oh, sorry what I meant was... ‘

‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘I know its small, but there’s nothing you can do about it is there. Wouldn’t it be great if you could send it back for a bigger one.’ he said laughing. I laughed too, and just said, ‘Yes.’

‘He got into bed and sat up, ‘I’ll be going out early for work,’ he said, ‘I’ll try not to disturb you.’ ‘Don’t worry,’ I said, ‘I’m quite a heavy sleeper and if I do wake, I usually go back to sleep very quickly.’

‘How old are you?’ he asked me. ‘Fifteen and a half,’ I told him. ‘Have you got a girlfriend yet?’ he asked. ‘No,’ I said, ‘I’m too quiet and shy.’ ‘I was at your age,’ he said, ‘To some extent I still am. Don’t let yourself drift along, make an effort. Time just races away.’

‘Before you know it, you’ll be my age and it’ll be too late.’ ‘Do you mean you haven’t, er haven’t... ‘ I came to a stop. ‘No,’ he told me, ‘I’m a forty-one-year-old virgin. I’ve never even kissed a girl on the lips or caressed a soft breast.’

‘Do you think the size of your cock had any bearing on that?’ I asked him. ‘I was amazed how forward I was being, but he seemed to be a kindred spirit. ‘I suppose so,’ he said, ‘I always worried and wondered if I’d ever be able to satisfy a lady.’

‘I’ve wondered that a lot too.’ I told him. ‘I presume at your age you play with yourself?’ he asked. ‘If anyone else had asked me that I’d have been so embarrassed, but we seemed to be on the same wavelength, so it didn’t bother me.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘And do you fire ok too?’ he asked. ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘Everything works, it’s just the size that worries me.’ ‘I was the same,’ he said, ‘Then eventually I stopped playing with myself and lost interest altogether.’

‘Talking to you now has made me realise just how long it’s been.’ He seemed deep in thought then he said, ‘I’ve just worked out it’s been almost twenty years since I fired myself.’

‘When you say you’re the same as me,’ he asked, ‘You’ve seen mine so tell me honestly how you would say we compare?’ ‘As near as I could judge, we’re the same size as each other.’ I told him. ‘But then you’ve still got some growing years left yet,’ he told me, ‘You could still grow much bigger.’

‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ I told him brightening up. ‘Do you know,’ Steve said, ‘I’ve never ever had a conversation like this with anyone before. I’d have been too embarrassed.’ ‘Me too,’ I said, ‘We must be on the same wavelength.’