The first time it happened I was alone in the Locker room. I'd pulled a muscle during soccer practice, and my mom wasn't picking me up until 4:30. From the corner of my eye I spotted a white waist band sticking out of a locker. I pulled on it, a jockstrap popped out, worn, old ... used. My first reaction was to smell it. I don't why. I smelled sweat and piss. There were faded yellow stains on the pouch of the jock. I stuck my tongue out and licked the pouch. It tasted vaguely of piss and salty sweat.
I shoved the jock in my pants underneath my jockey shorts. It was 4:30. I got to the parking lot as my mom drove up. She asked the same question as always. "Did God give you a good day?" I told her about my pulled muscle and asked what was for dinner. Leftovers. Mom had a church meeting. The first thing I did was hide the stolen jock in my dresser. When Dad got home, he came into my room with an ice pack. He was wearing his gym outfit. He always worked out most days after work. He pulled my gym shorts down and removed my own jockstrap before applying the ice pack. My cock was getting hard. Dad mumbled about some ointment he had that might help and went to look for it.
My brain was exploding. Why? What did this mean? I knew I was gay, but no one knew that. So that couldn't be the reason I felt I had to steal someone's jock. Just thinking about it gave me a hard-on, I did what I did. Dad came back in his Hanes briefs. I watched his dick bounce around inside his shorts as he placed the dinner tray on my lap indirectly hiding my boner. I ate in silence.
Dad came back and got the tray. He returned with the ointment and began applying it on my thigh. He bumped into my hard cock twice as he applied the ointment but thankfully said nothing. Mom came home checked up on me and kissed my forehead. She went to her room, he to his own bedroom.
When all the lights were out, I grabbed my lap top and entered "Underwear obsession." I was shocked to see so many websites devoted to the subject. I read, gay underwear fetishism is a sexual fetishism relating to undergarments and refers to the obsession with the sexual excitement of different types of underwear, from briefs, jocks, to thongs and boxers or other items. Some people can experience sexual excitement from wearing them, while some men get excitement when observing, handling, or smelling the underwear worn by another, or watching somebody putting underwear on or taking it off. I was breathing heavily now.
To test myself I got out of bed and tiptoed to the laundry room. In the basket I found Dad's briefs. I put them to my nose and instantly my dick was as hard as steel. How could this be? This was my Dad. His underwear, his smell, his piss stains and sweat. What kind of freak am I? I was so afraid. How could I ... why would I get hard?
Quickly, I returned to my room and got under the quilt. I covered my face with dad's briefs. I inhaled his musk, his piss smell. I started jacking off wildly. I came so quickly, dumping a pool of cum on my stomach. I used his briefs to wipe myself up then licked the briefs, savoring my own cum. I caught my breath. Got out of bed. Again, I silently returned to the laundry room and put his now cum stained Hanes briefs back into the laundry basket. I was overwhelmed with confusion and unbridled lust. There was gay store not far from the house. I would go there for answers.
I awoke; it was late morning. Dad was gone; he'd been working a lot on Saturdays. My mother was on the phone with the church. I asked her if I could have the car to run some errands. She handed me the keys. "Be back in an hour."
I drove to the Pride Factory, a gay shop. As I entered the man behind the register spoke. "Dude, let me see some identification. 18 years or older to enter."
"I showed him my Driver's license."
With a smile he said, "You look fifteen." I was shaking.
"You okay, little dude?"
"I need to talk to somebody."
The man nodded. "Alan, take the register for a while."
We walked up some stairs to a nicely decorated room with boxes of merchandise and two desks. "I want you to calm down. Then explain what's going on with you."
The whole last twenty-four hours spilled out. I started crying. He hugged me. "You're a normal gay dude. There isn't anything you did wrong. Nothing. Your father undies? Those are the only ones available to you. Except that jock which that was really hot. This is what you want. This is who you are. Stand proud. Personally, I have no idea how many guy's undies I've sniffed, and you can't feel guilty." He moved to the stairs shouting, "Alan is there anyone in the store?"
"No."
"Take off, your underwear and bring 'em up here. And just take a new pair off the rack for yourself."
"By the way, I'm Kurt." He said as he took off his jeans, then pulled down his black Calvin Klien underwear.
"I'm David. David Hall Jr."
Alan came up with his grey Beverly Hills Polo Club bikini. Kurt took a Pride Factory bag and put his and Alan's briefs in the bag.
Kurt's dick was huge and so like a beautiful sculpture. I couldn't take my eyes off it. And he made no effort to cover up his nudity.
"Do you know if you're a top or a bottom yet?"
"When I masturbate and dream, I'm always the guy that gets fucked."
"Alan back to the register." As soon as he was gone. Kurt continued. "I'm giving you lube, a medium size vibrating dildo and condoms."
"You're hard, Kurt." I observed.
"Yeah," Kurt smiled. "I am. You are a very hot young man."
"Will you do me one more favor?" I asked.
"What's that little dude?"
"Will you fuck me?" I leaned against a desk and pulled my jeans and jockey shorts down exposing my white ass, offering it to him. "Please, sir. I'm eighteen."
Kurt said nothing. He grabbed a tube of lube and coated my innocent pink hole with the Astro glide. His hard-on was so big and dripping pre-cum, a lot of drippings.
I steadied myself as he pushed the head of his ample cock into my begging butt hole. I took a deep breath. He breeched the ring of my tight hole. I breathed heavily. More cock went in. A tingling sensation began. Slowly he fed my hole with the remainder of his large dick, thankfully the lube helped. My dick was so close to shooting, and I hadn't even touched it yet.
I felt the girth of his cock as he pushed the entire length of it inside my hot virgin hole. And then he kissed me, my first kiss ever.
I would later learn from Kurt that they had a client by the name of David Hall Sr.
When I got home, Mom was gone. I was supposed to bring the car home earlier; I guess I was going to be in trouble. And then there was Dad drinking a Whiskey and seven way too early in the day. He sat on the couch, staring straight ahead seemingly waiting for me. I stood at the door, "Hi Dad."
With outlooking at me, he said. "Can we talk? I did the laundry today and I have some questions I'd like to ask you."
"Oh shit!" I said to myself.
To be continued . . .
