The Cult of the Jockstrap

James Orval Charles King always loved to admire athletic guys, especially those wearing a jockstrap. Kids had joked about his initials, JOCK, when he was in elementary school. Once in high school, James had to wear a jockstrap for gym classes and he was again teased in the locker room. Some classmates paraded in their jockstrap, asking James if he wanted to sniff them. He just blushed and tried to hide his hard-on. The sight of a bulge in a pouch and an ass nicely framed by elastic bands had started to send him erotic shocks since grade ten.

When James entered university, he wasn’t sure of the subject in which he would like to specialize. So, he graduated with a general B.A. (bachelor of arts). For his master’s degree, James opted for sociology; as strange as it may sound, the subject of his thesis was “The cult of the jockstrap”. A cult can be a social group defined by its religious, spiritual or philosophical beliefs, or by its common interest in a particular personality, object or goal. An older sense of the word cult involves a set of religious devotional practices related to a particular figure or associated with a particular place: cult of a Catholic saint, imperial cult of ancient Rome.

Since cults became the object of sociological study at the beginning of the 1930s, James had no problem to convince his teacher of Modern Sociological Tendencies to become his thesis director. It so happened that both teacher and student were openly gay. The first meetings between James and professor Bill Erindale were held at the Faculty of Social Sciences. When Bill sensed that they were both getting a hard-on, he suggested to hold meetings at his place.

“Thanks for the invitation, said James. Do you want me to wear a red or a black jockstrap?”

“I have a black one, so please wear a red jock. When we take a break, we could wrestle in our respective gear and see where it leads…”

The meeting at Bill’s place was short and the break lasted over one hour. Both men stripped, leaving on just their preferred garment. They immediately embraced and brushed feverously cock-to-cock. The living-room carpet was thick and an ideal place to wrestle. Bill was a little stockier, especially at the thighs, ass and cock. James loved to pull on the black elastic bands with his teeth and slap his teacher’s wide butt, making him moan with pleasure. They ended up in a 69, sniffing and licking each other’s pouch before sucking a hard joystick. Bill’s bazooka was thick and cut with huge low-hanging balls while James’ rod was long and uncut with tight plum-size testicles.

The professor used is guidance power to suggest something that his student could use for his research on the cult of the jockstrap. He explained that wearing this kind of gear can trigger not only huge hard-ons but also abundant loads of cum, and that guys can do more than explode and swallow. On that note, Bill and James’ mouth went to work. They bursted at the same time, swallowing only half of their partner’s nectar, then kissing to mix the rest of each other’s creamy load. It was the first time James snowballed with a jockstrap on. The research for his thesis was off to a hot start.

The place where one sees the most jockstraps is no doubt the locker room of a football or hockey team. A friend from high school pulled a few strings to allow James’ entrance in the locker room of the Lions football team. All players were between 20 and 25, all dudes with full-body muscles, some of them quite hairy. All appreciated a slap on their butt, taking it as a compliment. James could snap all the pictures he wanted, even close-up of bulging crotches and peachy butts. The quarterback was a hunk whose vitality was worshiped by every team mate. Brad was the most handsome player and always stood on a bench to show off his pecs, his biceps, his thighs, his ass and his jock pouch from which a huge cock pointed out of the elastic white waistband.

James took note of how players reacted. One directly invited the quarterback to join him in the shower area. Another punched just about every muscle and was invited to squeeze the balls. “But, attention, my hard-on could double in size. This fuckin jockstrap gets me so horny!” James immediately wrote down the comment; he noticed that the coach got closer to Brad, making a wink, and pulling down his own pants. He was also wearing a jockstrap; his gear had read elastic bands and a rainbow color pouch. “You want to fuck your coach, sweetheart?” Brad stepped down, pulled his already hard dick, spit on it a few times, massaged his shaft, grabbed the coach’s ass and shoved his 11-inch tube steak inside the begging hole. This triggered loud cheers: “Show him who is the boss! Fuck him hard and deep! Grab his cock and milk it like a cow!” The coach was moaning, gasping, wailing in a positive way, howling, hoping it would never stop.

James was flabbergasted. He had never imagined getting such raw material for his thesis. He got closer, hoping to suck the coach’s dick. One player pulled down James’ pants and admired his bulging red jockstrap. This excited the quarterback; he pulled out of the coach’s butt and started to bang his rod on James’ crack. The plea was almost desperate: “Please fuck me, Brad! I need to feel your energy, your power. It will inspire me to write a whole chapter on the cult of the jockstrap in a football teams’ locker room.” Brad pounded James’ ass like a stallion. The student’s butt had never enjoyed such a divine pleasurable pain. He was barely able to go to class at all the next day, but his account of this wild jock-fuck experience would definitely impress professor Bill.

The thesis had to include a chapter on interracial dynamics, and this was made possible thanks to the help of a university colleague originally from Ivory Coast. Emmanuel was 6-foot-three, weighed 210 pounds, had broad shoulders, a huge ass, a handsome face with pouty lips, and a bulging crotch that attracted both women and men. He had however never experienced gay sex… yet, but James was ready to offer him an irresistible opportunity. Emmanuel had difficulty in English literature and James knew more than the basics, from Chaucer to Julian Barnes. He offered to help Emmanuel in his monthly essay… if he got some concrete reward. “Don’t worry, my friend, this will involve only you and me, it won’t hurt, on the contrary, and I guarantee that we will both have fun.”

On that note, James and Emmanuel met to put on each a jockstrap, black for the White guy, white for the Black guy. This was new for the Ivorian dude, but he liked how the garment accentuated his sexual assets. When James caressed the yummy black ass, there was a quick push off, but after a third attempt, it kind of felt good. Emmanuel also grabbed his partner’s butt, and was surprised by the moans of pleasure it generated. This step led to a bold move on James’ part.

He positioned himself to kiss the big Ivorian ass and to lick the ebony offering. Even before Emmanuel could try to move away, James had buried his face in the crack, holding on the jockstrap bands and sniffing the virile odor, the best aroma a gay man can find. He immediately and greedily tongue-twisted his way inside to reach the yummy black rosebud. It was now Emmanuel who was moaning with pleasure. “N’arrête pas, c’est tellement bon!” (Don’t stop, it feels so good). The first experience of a Black guy in a jockstrap was filmed and well-described in the thesis.  

James also needed a twink experience to illustrate the cult of the jockstrap. He had noticed that there was a new kid on the block, a blond teenager with light brown skin and a perky small butt. He was called David and two twin brothers were designated to welcome this sassy addition to the community. Gerry and Terry were 19-year-old, rather slim, usually wearing blues jeans and a t-shirt. I’M A TOP was written on Gerry’s shirt, I’M A BOTTON on Terry’s. James approached the twins with a plan. “Offer David to meet for a unique weird experience. Tell him that you will wear shorts, no shirt, and that he should wear only a jockstrap.” No one knew that David was leader of a secret leather club where members fucked each other in leather gear: arm band, harness, jockstrap, and boots.

David showed up in a sparkling leather jock with a button-down pouch. The twins both wore tight denim cut-off shorts that highlighted Gerry’s bulging crotch on one hand, and Terry’s peachy ass on the other hand. They gathered in an alley sprinkled with condoms, syringes, and empty cans of beer. The atmosphere lent itself well to a lewd scenario. In no time, the trio was kissing, sucking each other’s nipples, slapping each other’s buttocks, and rubbing their crotch briskly. David positioned himself to fuck Terry in the ass, and Gerry encouraged him by face-fucking his twin brother. All this was filmed by James, who had focused on David’s rear dimple cheeks. It was so virile to see him pump Terry with a firm hold on the jockstrap’s leather waist band. The fucking was not only hard and deep, it was libidinous, lascivious and lubricious.

Pleased by the outcome of his student’s work, professor Bill indicated that, on top of the pics highlighting lustful experiences in a jockstrap, the thesis could have a chapter including only a selection of photos with captions. He suggested an arrangement of selfies. And it so happened that Bill knew a guy who posted selfies focusing on his peachy butt nicely framed by white, black, red or rainbow jockstraps. This Facebook and Instagram fan agreed to sell as many photos as James wanted. The research budget only yielded a dozen, but they were all sharp, luscious and horny. That was the best conclusion for a thesis on the cult of the jockstrap.

Just before submitting his 120-page document, James found a picture of a guy wearing a red jockstrap highlighted by a red handkerchief around the neck, and by black leather chaps, vest and arm bands. This was perfect for the cover page of the thesis. Under the photo, a caption simply read Le Rouge et le Noir*. James also included an appendix to his thesis where he reproduced three short stories written by Paul François for the Gay Demon site: Made-to-Measure Jockstrap, 18-Year-Old Jockstrap Club, Jockstrap + Leather Boots = High Performance.

* Le Rouge et le Noir (The Red and the Black) is the title of a novel written in 1830 by French author Marie-Henri Beyle, better known by his pen name Stendhal.