He was bent over in locker room, stepping into his jockstrap and pulling it up his hairy legs. "He" was Danny - my then 17 year old classmate and baseball stud. 5'10", 180 lbs, legs like a soccer player, an ass that popped out from the top of them, brown eyes and hair all over. Danny had been the first to pop some peach fuzz in 5th grade and he now had nice, not overwhelming, coat of hair on his body. As he pulled the jock up his legs, the straps framed his furry ass perfectly and I had to fight my 17 year old version of myself from reaching out to touch it.
It was a blessing and a curse that I was in the locker room with Danny. I was on the track team and, being at a small, rural school in nowhere Indiana, our sports teams shared the same locker room. So, every day at 3pm during track season (which overlapped with baseball), I had the opportunity to see a parade of baseball jocks - in and out of their jocks. Before I go on, I should mention I have a thing for jockstraps. It was Danny's fault, really. The first guy I ever saw in one was Danny. Later I came to find out that he was a bit shy because he would strip down to his tightie-whities and then put his jock on top of them. I thought that was the way everyone wore one. It wasn't until I saw the other jocks strip down completely that I realized Danny was a bit shyer than the rest. It only made him more desirable to me.
While a blessing to see a parade of jocks getting into their uniforms on a daily basis, I was also cursed with a raging hard-on from the moment I walked in until I got out onto the track. Track runners didn't wear jocks at my school, so I had to rely on my briefs in keeping my dick in check while I (thought) discreetly checked out the jock packages in the locker room.
This plan seemed to be working out well until mid-season. Our team happened to finish our practice at the same time the baseball team did, so we were back in the locker room together. The baseball jocks were peeling off their uniforms and getting ready to hit the showers. Unfortunately (or fortunately), most of the track team didn't shower after practice, including me. As I packed up my gym bag to leave I looked up to find Danny pulling off his jersey. While his jersey was over his head I took the opportunity to admire his perfect chest and abs. He wasn't a six pack ab kind of jock - he was just solid...and hot, really hot.
I realized I had been staring too long when I heard my name, "Earth to Kev, Earth to Kev" (I'm Kevin, but everyone called me Kev). I physically shook myself out of my trance and looked up at Danny with a wild-eyed expression. I had been caught and waited for the ridicule, or worse, from this jock god. "Like something you see, Kev?", Danny said to me with a smirk on his face. I was frozen and could only squeak out, "sorry". "Don't sweat it, Kev, the show only gets better" and Danny then slid down his uniform pants to reveal his jock and briefs. By the look of his jock I could tell I wasn't the only one enjoying the show....
(To be continued)
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