Poolside Brief Boys
by Briefer
[I'm trying to remember this incident without shooting my load.]
I had just moved into an apartment building in the gay part of town. It was notorious for its rooftop swimming pool. I was attending the local junior college and was always horny when I come home from school, having spent the day staring at the bulging baskets of my male classmates and doing an inventory of the underwear elastic that protruded from under the waistbands of their faded, painted-on jeans.
I was home from school and horny as usual. I peeled off my favorite Levis and replaced them with a pair of cutoffs that I couldn't keep my hands off of and that I hoped the guys I'd meet at my new abode couldn't either. They were cut so short that my snow-white cotton jockeypouch protruded blatantly from both leg openings.
As I walked up the stairs to the roof, my denim shorts and the pouch of my briefs moved against each other. It felt so damned good! The movement of my hips caused my shorts to drop slightly to reveal - for anyone who might care to know - the telltale waistband of my 2(x)ist underpants.
The afternoon sun was blazing, a breeze was blowing and my cock jerked as I gazed across the pool at too young studs lying on their backs in the sun. The bathing suits they wore were like second skins, clinging to every detail of their bodies. Their lounge chairs were extended and were placed head-to-head so that the boys could talk to each other.
Both heads turned in my direction as the door closed behind me. My face was flushed with embarrassment as two sets of eyes zeroed in on my heaving denim basket and protruding pouch. I quickly found a chaise beside the pool opposite the two studs and flopped down on my belly.
Though I had turned my head away from the pool, I could hear murmuring and faint laughter. Then the scraping of a chair, then sploshing. My head turned in time for me to see one of the boys standing a the shallow end of he pool at the top of the stepdown, about ankle deep.
My buttocks pressed together and ground my meat into the chair. I recognized this guy. He was a classmate! He was a freshman, boyfaced, blond, tanned, lithe swimmer's build and . . . I stifled a gasp. Those weren't swim trunks he was wearing. They weren't even Speedos. They were cut like Speedos, low rise, no fly. But I knew boy briefs well enough to know cock and balls encased in cotton from meat wrapped in nylon.
The brief front was double paneled - two layers of cotton jersey were stretched over that mound of male flesh. And that male flesh was trying to escape is cotton wrapper just like my jockeybriefs were trying to escape my cutoffs.
This kid looked my way. There was a subtle hint of recognition in his eyes that made me relax a bit. He didn't seem to mind exposing the lewd display of a quivering erection through jam-packed jockeyshorts. The other guy had rolled over on his stomach and was pushing his hips into his lounge chair. Looking at the spectacle; he had a gleeful smile on his face.
The boy in the pool walked down a step. I love the way a good pair of briefs hold a guy's meat up front, like a jockstrap, so that whenever he takes a step his basket moves from side to side. This happened when the boy stepped down into the water.
The sun glittered from the ripples that spread from his legs as they cut through the surface. His eyes looked down at his bulging briefs. I could barely make out a little label on the cotton that stretched over his left loin. By God, they were Fruit of the Looms! Some kind of sport briefs, I thought. Gotta get me some. They look so hot. I'd sure like to jack off in them.
By the time he was thigh deep, this jockey boy's cock was fully extended up and across his groin, flexing outward, looking like it would pierce the sheer fabric covering the cockhead. In fact, those briefs weren't white, but flesh-colored, as thinly stretched as they were. I was grinding my crotch against the cushion of my lounge chair, feeling my undershorts rubbing against my cutoffs. I was glad for those denim shorts, for my cock was squirting pre-cum and I dreaded leaving a big wet mark - the mark of my queerness - on the cushion for anyone else to see.
"Mmmmm . . . " the waterboy moaned. The water was now just touching the bottom of his cotton-covered ballpouch. I knew that feeling. It was like being felt off at the same time feeling the cloth covering around your testicles slowly getting soaked. Yes, I knew that feeling. As our eyes locked, I nodded slightly at the kid to try to indicate our shared passion.
Our eyes dropped to his waist. I could see his piss slit through his distented Fruit of the Looms. Suddenly, it began to glisten.
Aaaaaah . . . having the water lap at his super sensitive scrotum, amplified by the feel of its filmy cotton covering, caused his throbbing cock to begin oozing. The glimmer became a shiny spot in the sun that became a sparkling trickle as I and the two other boys watched a steady stream of jism.
That was enough for the other kid. He raised himself from the lounge chair, his own jockeyhorts pushing out obscenely from between his legs. They were soaked with boyjuice, obviously from being masturbated by the movement of the hips they were painted over.
Like his buddy, this dude sported a hardon that extended up and across his loins. He was also wearing underpants! I couldn't believe my luck. Or was this for real? Had I fallen asleep on the couch, and was I having a super wet dream?
I turned onto my side, facing both boys. I also recognized the kid standing opposite me, openly jacking himself off through his white cK hip briefs, as a classmate, also a freshman. Could this be true? Would the first openly gay contact I make be with another brief freak like me? And not just one but two?
I had to find out. I reached between my legs and pulled down the zipper of my cutoffs. I popped the waist button and opened the flaps to expose the top of my 2(x)ists.
The two others gazed openly at my midsection. The boy in the water dropped his jaw. "Wow," he sighed. The other boy's eyes were popping at the sight. I wanted to go into the water. I wanted to feel my briefs getting wet. I wanted to feel another guy's jockey bulge in my hand. I felt myself losing control. I had to have jockey sex!
I raised myself up and swiveled to a sitting position, facing the poolboys. I decided the boy standing opposite me beside the pool wanted to see a show while he jacked off through his Calvins. I stood up. My cotton pouch pushed my swollen nuts out so that when I turned, my profile was outrageously lewd. MY briefs were soaked transparent from the globs of semen that I my pushing and squirming had squeezed from my sex glands.
The boy in the pool was my goal. His hand swirled in the water and moved to his brief-clad balls. He was panting and quivering with every little wave of water he splashed against his underpants. It was also obvious that his cock was about to explode. "Hurry," he croaked, as I walked around to the steps, grabbing my pouch and squeezing it, milking more juice out of my erection to soak into and run down the front of my cumbriefs.
[I'm wearing those briefs right now and jacking myself off as I recount that wonderful scene. I hope I can finish before I shoot!]
I stepped into the water. Just the wet feeling on my feet caused my prick to heave inside its snug basket. I gasped aloud. Aarrrgh . . .
"Yeah, yeah, Guy," the kid standing beside the pool cried, "keep it up. Wow, you're too hot!" He was masturbating himself furiously, rubbing his brief-clad midsection all over, then grabbing his throbbing rod or massaging his ballpouch.
The kid in the pool turned just as I stepped down and so that my crotch was level with his face. He was eighteen years old, but looked like he was fourteen. The expression he wore was of unbridled lust, his eyes were transfixed on my underwear. "Ggggggaaaaaahhhhh . . . " a gurgling, animal sound came up from his throat. "I'm so fuckin queer for those beautiful briefs. I want them . . . I gotta . . . I . . . "
He lunged forward. He let out a cry as the forward movement of his body toward my crotch caused a small wave of water to wash over his jockeyfront. I knew that feeling too, when water suddenly washed over my underpants and mades them wet for the first time. That feeling . . .
His mouth opened and my hips thrust forward to meet it and I let out a strangled groan, not caring who heard me or saw my ecstatic response to an underpants blowjob.
I stepped down again. The feeling of my brief bulge in a warm wet mouth turned my hand into a mouth that wanted to taste Fruit of the Looms. My pouch ripped out of his mouth, my hand reached down and clamped over my beautiful young classmates bulging briefs. Groping underpants, another guy's underpants, bulging briefs, jam-packed jockeyshorts, was what I had been dreaming about since my first briefs orgasm when I was eleven. Every wet dream had ended with my grabbing another boy's jockey briefs and me blasting a load in mine without touching myself.
And this was what was happening now. Feeling another boy off through his underpants was making me shoot my load.
"Look, Todd!" the boy above us exclaimed. "He's juicing his jock!" As I watched the kid explode in his Calvins, wave after wave of cream gushing between the fingers of his pumping fist.
Suddenly, my own hand was coated with hot sperm. My sexmate was emptying himself into his Calvins.
The itch that started at the root of my erection had spread through my groin, and my body was wracked with the most powerful orgasm I had ever experienced. Todd harvested a handful of glistening goo as it ran down the front of my heaving bulge. He then greedily slurped it up and gulped it down.
By the time I felt water tickling the bottom of my cotton ballpouch, causing my orgasm to continue endlessly, I also had a handful of jism, and mashed it onto my face and shoved it into my mouth. Instinctively, Todd and I mouthed together, or hands pushing water onto each other's stuffed jockeyfronts, soaking the material, queering off from the feeling of underpants getting soaked.
Our loud screams were muffled as our mouths met, and we began tonguing and tasting and savoring each other's loads.
"Goddamn, Goddamn," the kid above us cried, "Do it! Do it! I'm cumming, I'm cummiiin . . . "
Out of the corner of my eye and through a haze of ecstasy, I could see the kid's body wildly bucking and flailing, his face contorted with uninhibited jockeylust.
My eyes turned back to meet Todd's, looking openly into them while we climaxed. "Mmph . . . mmmmmph." Our bodies quivered and our orgasms continued with every glob of swallowed semen and every squeeze of another boy's hand on our heaving baskets.
Gasping for air, Todd and I pulled our face apart and looked down. Our hands were underwater between our legs and beneath our crotches, as if our orgasms were one, we knew what to do. With our thumbs we pressed up against the bottoms of our briefs and pressed forward along the lengths of our cockstems. This pushed one final glob of jism out of our submerged briefs.
As we watched, a milky white cloud spread from the fronts of our now submerged brief fronts under the crystal clear water, filaments of sex juice floating slowly around us, testifying to the power of the sexual urge that began with the feel of tight white cotton briefs against our skin and the look of white cotton briefs stretched over male cock and balls and ended with an explosive wet briefs orgasm with another guy.
[NOW I'M CUMMING!]
Copyright 1998 Briefer. All Rights Reserved.