A Brief Encounter

He caught me with my hand in the till, or to be more precise my nose in his underwear. I was staying at his place for a few days and thought he’d gone out for a couple of hours, but he’d come back unexpectedly and found me inhaling the cock-hardening scent of his dirty jocks in the laundry. It was quite a surprise, given that I was also pulling on my dick which was sticking out of my jeans.

I tried to imagine what the Queen would say in such a moment, but nothing came to mind so I just stood there, my nose still in his undies, my cock still in my hand, the silence somewhat uncomfortable; it seemed to stretch for quite a long time, the silence that is.

And then he burst out laughing, like an explosion, and the tension shattered into a million pieces. I started laughing as well and did the only thing I could, holding his jocks out to him apologetically as if he’d caught me using his favourite aftershave. 

He took them with a nod of his handsome head and surprised me by holding them up to his own nose and inhaling deeply, closing his eyes momentarily in delight. I couldn’t help but notice a certain movement in his pants and decided there was no need to wrangle myself back into my jeans just yet, given the signs.

Handing his undies back to me with a sly look on his face he told me to sprog in them first, seeing as how I was so close anyway. We’d always been flirtatious with each other over many years of friendship but had never actually gone beyond that, despite the fact that I found him delicious in the extreme, so his request was greeted with no little enthusiasm by me. And I was indeed very close.

Only too happy to have him watching I sprogged almost immediately, unloading multiple spurts of my thick almost pure white jizz into his piss-stained jocks, drenching them as I wrapped them around my swollen knob as it dribbled out the last of its juice.

He had tantalisingly loosened his leather belt and popped a few studs on his Levi’s but had stopped there, choosing instead to slide his hand down and pull on his cock out of my sight; frustrating and unbearably erotic at the same time. He held out his other hand and motioned for me to give him back his jocks, which I was happy to do in their sodden state.

Despite my orgasm having subsided my dick remained hard and I continued to pull on it as I watched his own performance. He held his undies up to his face again, only this time he pushed the cum soaked fabric into his mouth, sucking out my jizz along with his own dried piss, a marvellous cocktail. 

The movement of his hand in his jeans became more pronounced, his eyes seemed to glaze over as a low moan welled up through his body, escaping as a cry muffled by the sodden fabric which he pressed even harder into his mouth. His body jerked over and over again as he released his orgasm into his pants, a damp spot spreading across the front of his jeans, wider and wider. 

I came again, not with the same force but enough to splatter on his left leg. We must have looked a sight, me with my dripping cock hanging out of my pants and him with his filthy undies hanging out of his mouth. 

Not many words were needed at this point, we just looked at each other and smiled as we recovered from our pleasant exhaustion. He took the undies from his mouth and tossed them back to me (a welcome souvenir) before withdrawing his sticky hand from his pants and letting his jeans drop to his knees. 

He looked slightly sheepish and I momentarily worried that he was beginning to regret our impromptu intimacy, but as I feasted my eyes on his glorious mess I realised that he was wearing a pair of my soiled y-fronts (even more soiled now), which he must have spirited away from the pile of dirty clothes I’d left lying on the guest room floor.

Snap!