Sweaty Ass-Fun Drives Me Wild

It’s 1961 and my mother just received the Eaton’s catalogue. My sisters take turn to admire the dresses, coats and shoes. I patiently wait to flip through the pages in order to admire men’s underwear. I don’t like the boxer shorts that mom always buys for me. The men in white briefs look so special. They kind of excite me. I check to see if no one is looking at me, and I dare caress the ass pic, putting pressure on the crack while squeezing my penis surprisingly getting hard.

I also take pleasure in admiring the ad showing a man in Wrangler jeans; there are two photos, front and back. I stare at the ass nicely wrapped in denim and quickly sniff it. I’m almost moaning with pleasure. The next day, I’m picking tomatoes for the Heinz Co.: 25 cents a basket, 100 baskets in one day. There is a new picker and he’s wearing tight faded Wrangler jeans. I smile at him when he takes the two rows next to mine. Wow! I will get to almost touch his ass when he bends down to pick the ripe tomatoes and fill his basket. I try not to show how his ass fascinates me; who knows, maybe he would tell me to fuck off. Or maybe he would smile…

In September, my parents send me to a boarding school 500 miles away from home. There are 120 boys from grade 9 to 12, and the institution is run by the Oblate Fathers. It’s a seminary where we sleep in dormitories, and each od us has a locker in the hallway. The priest-watchdog ensures that we undress while wearing a bathrobe, but a classmate rushes in my direction with only a towel around his waist. Albert removes it just before entering the shower area, and I get to see his ass. Awesome! It looks like a peach and makes me salivate.

I immediately take place next to Albert’s shower cabin. The watchdog peeks in to check that all doors are closed. Since I’m almost 6-foot tall, I can look inside Albert’s cabin and watch how he soaps his butt. I can’t resist masturbating. My heavy breathing gets his attention. “You like my ass?” Fuck! I adore it and I blow him a kiss, like I’ve seen a girl do in a movie. Albert turns around to show me his hard dick and we both jerk off.

Around the end of November, the older seminarians set up the hockey ring. My name is on the same team as Albert. I’m a pretty good skater but have never played hockey. The coach tells me that I have to wear knee pads and a jockstrap. I have no idea what is a jockstrap or how to wear it. Albert comes to my rescue. He’s already wearing his gear over white briefs, which reminds me of the Eaton catalogue pic. We are almost hiding behind a few lockers, and he positions himself to rub his ass in my face. The sweaty smell is intoxicating.

“See how my jockstrap is put on? Adjust yours in the same way. I will fit in the cup that protects your balls and dick.”

“OK but just seeing you so close makes me want to grab your ass nicely framed by elastic bands.”

“Go ahead, it’s yours to sniff, caress, pinch, even spank if you want.”

We don’t have much time before the game starts so I quickly bury by face in his crack. The smell of a sweaty arse obviously gets me hard. Albert pretends that he’s inserting the cup in my jockstrap but he’s really rubbing my cock. The feeling is so intense that I’m on the verge of filling the pouch with jizz. But we then hear the coach coming in our direction, so we immediately separate, put our uniform, knee pads and skates on, ready to jump on the hockey ring.

In the middle of the night, the sound of a squeaking bed wakes me up. Albert is bending over one of my classmate’s crotch. It looks like he’s sucking the boy’s dick. At the same time, the watchdog priest enters the dormitory and catches my friend red-handed. The punishment is severe: Albert’s parents are immediately contacted and told that their son is being expelled.

When I get to university, at 18, I share a room in a residence and I do laundry with my colleague. When he removes the clothes from the dryer, a jockstrap falls on the floor but he doesn’t notice it. I pick it up to find out that it doesn’t have a section for the cup. When I mention this to my colleague, he explains that this type of jock is made to keep your organs or jewels in place while exercising or playing soccer. “The pouch can stretch to accommodate your bulge, if you know what I mean.”

I obviously know what it means and I plan to buy one. When alone in the room, I wear my new jock and caress my dick while thinking of Albert’s peachy butt. The result is a splurge of creamy nectar. It is only a few years later that I find out that you can buy jockstraps in leather. I also find ou that a bar caters to guys into leather. The Black Eagle attracts men wearing chaps, harness, and boots. Some just adorn a leather jacket and cap. That’s what I decide to buy in order to get in this leather-code bar.

My first evening at the Black Eagle is a wild dream come true. I meet a guy wearing tight faded Wrangler jeans. Both the bulge and the ass are enhanced by the leather chaps. We start exchanging and around 1 a.m. George invites me to his place. He quickly finds out that I love to sniff a man’s ass in sweaty tight jeans. His offering is divine. George initiates me to ass-fun: kissing, licking, spanking and rimming. It’s the first time I hear about eating a guy’s arse. Holy fuck! This awesome filthy fun drives me wild.

George and I quickly become friends with benefits. Two or three times a week, I get to bury my face in his crack, sniff the arse odor, lick the sweaty rump, bite the cheeks, slap the firm loaves, and tongue-twist my way inside to taste a yummy rosebud. In return, he gets to fuck me hard and deep with his chaps and harness on.