It's the third time this week.
Awakened in a cold sweat, he groans in disgust. Jimmy rubs at tired eyes and makes his way out of bed and towards his dresser. As he skims through the drawer full of boxers, he glances at the clock. 3:46 AM. He switches his current pair for the new dry set and makes his way back to bed, cheeks still flushed and mind still racing. These sort of predicaments had happened so many times already, and yet Jimmy Jr. felt more and more embarrassed with every episode. They were considered completely natural for a boy his age. A true sign of starting male puberty, he learned. Every boy went through this, so why did he feel so self-conscious about it? He couldn't find the courage to tell or ask anyone about them. Not his father, not Zeke, and most definitely not the sex-ed teacher. What would he even say?
They were all the same dreams. Every last one. Sure, they'd start off different. Sometimes they were on a field trip, other times they'd be alone in his room. Sometimes even a simple conversation led to things. No matter where they were or what they had begun doing, it always ended with him waking up with a racing heart and damp boxers. The dreams he didn't mind; oh no, he loved them. Had he any more courage, he'd probably brag to Zeke all about the filthy scenarios his maturing teenage mind had created. What bothered him most was the fact that he'd wake up in his own emissions, and had to change his bottoms constantly.
That, and the fact that they were always about Tina.
Tina hadn't changed much of her look when they turned 15. She still wore the same short cobalt skirt, the sky blue t-shirt and plain tennis shoes. She stopped wearing barrettes, and occasionally wore flats in the summer, but what had really changed was her, well...ever blooming body. Her t-shirt now clung to her well-endowed chest, her long, slender legs and plump derriere only slightly covered by her skirt. He'd catch her in P.E., doing jumping jacks and other vigorous activities, the tightness in his loose basketball shorts putting him on the verge of insanity. Not to mention Tammy's pool party, in which Tina attended in a frilly white two-piece. He kept various objects near by to cover his growing shame; a beach ball, a scrunched up towel, a pack of hot dog buns. The mere memory of her submerging from the swimming pool made him excited all over again.
"God damn it." he whispers, turning on his side and shutting his eyes. He would try his best to fall back into his normal slumber, thinking manly thoughts. Monster trucks, bacon, interpretive dance. Strangely enough, the thought of Tina talking to him, from class schedules to favorite movies, eased Jimmy back to sleep.