Date: Mon, 10 Dec 2001 08:34:28 -0500
From: rfsc48 <rfsc48@hotmail.com>
Subject: My-underwear-fascination

One of my simple pleasures today is looking at guys in underwear; in any
kind; in any form from magazines to peeks in the locker room.  I like to
daydream and fantasize about what is cauing the bulge under the fabric.
My fascination began in gym class when I was young.  I was fourteen, a
high school freshman, and in Chad's gym class. He was my gym teacher,
fresh out of college, and there was something about him that made me want
to make him like me from the first day of class.  I didn't know what it
was at first.  I just liked everything about him, from his handsome face
to his voice.  He moved with the grace and just watching him walk across
the gym stirred me with longing.   I choice to play volleyball but was
not very good at it.
Before one practice session, Chad called me aside.  He wanted me to
change my sport.  I stood in front of him, in my sneakers and regulation
gym clothes, panting and sweating, gasping for air from having just run
four times around the track, a mile in all, in four minutes, thirty-eight
seconds.  Chad stood staring at his stopwatch.   Most of the class was
over a lap behind me, including a few volleyball jocks who had jeered me
the week before for not having come near the ball when I finally did make
it on the court to play.  But I was a good runner.  I always left the
other guys far behind when we did laps.
"What's your name?" Chad asked me.  "Bob, but my friends call me
Lightning -- Light for short" I said, just beginning to catch my breath.
"Light, as in faster-than-the-speed-of," he said, confirming the nickname
I got in the neighborhood for being able to outrun everybody, and the
fact that I ran everywhere, even to the store. "Come here Light" Chad
said, as he stepped up to me and hugged my body to his, the side of my
face crushing against the metal whistle that hung on a silver chain
around his strong neck.  He rubbed my hair vigorously.  I hated when my
relatives did that but it was different when Chad did it. I smelled his
body, as my nose brushed against the black hair on his chest which ran
high up and shown at the open neck of his shirt. "I'm going to make a
track star out of you," he said.  So I joined the track team.
There were only five guys on the high school cross-country team.  In
after-school practice, Chad ran along with us -- he'd been a miler in
college but told us he wasn't built for it, and had never been very
good.  His legs were too muscular, he said.  I thought his legs and his
whole muscular body were beautiful.   Maybe he didn't have a runner's
body" but to me, it was perfect.  He showered with us after work-outs and
seemed self-conscious, but a little proud too, of being so hairy. Even
before I saw him in the shower for the first time, I remember finding his
crotch captivating, the way it strained at the fabric of his shorts.   In
the shower, I noticed that it was his balls that were very large, which
were the reason for the bulge in his shorts.   His dick was a nice size.
What I liked most was the thick bush of public hair that ran right up his
chest.   My own hair was just starting to come in, and I prayed that I'd
grow a quarter of what Chad had.   I had daydreams about Chad in his gym
shorts, walking up to me, letting me feel his legs and bury my face in
his crotch.
Chad acted very differently during cross-country practice compared with
the way he acted in gym class.   He was much quieter on our runs, running
along with us, or giving pointers on running style.  Teaching gym class
required that he maintain discipline.  But you could tell he wasn't the
kind of rigid person that gets off on giving orders.  It was obvious to
all of us in his gym class, that he was only strict because the other
teachers probably told him it was the only way a teacher in his first
year could act, unless he wanted his students to think they could get
over on him.   After a few months I got to know him well enough to tease
him a little about his drill sergeant act in gym class, not in front of
other students of course.   He took my ribbing in stride.   Sometimes it
was only a fleeting exchange of glances between us, an understanding that
people who are close to each other develop after a while, but I could
tell he liked me and understood me, even if I didn't understand myself at
the time.
Since there were only five guys on the cross-country team, Chad drove us
to out-of-town meets in his own car.  I always sat in front next to Chad,
on the hump, because I was the smallest, but I really liked
sitting there just to be next to him.   The sight of his hairy arms on
the steering wheel gave me a sense of security.   When we went around
curves, our sides and legs would often touch.   This physical contact,
which he probably didn't even notice, was lighting the fires of a passion
like I've never known since.   By my sophomore year, I started jerking
off regularly and the only fantasy person I could think of was Chad.   He
was driving me insane and if I hadn't had running to keep my emotions
level, I probably would have killed myself or gone mad.
Chad was married.   His wife came to some of the local meets, always
carrying a book with her to read.   She wore thick glasses and looked
intellectual.   She was an odd wife for a gym teacher, but Chad wasn't
your average gym teacher.   He probably picked her because she had
brains.
In my junior year, the State finals were held a small town downstate.  I
was the only guy from our school to qualify and Chad called my parents
about driving me to the meet, and spending a night over in a hotel since
the 5 hour drive back home, so too much to repeat in one day.   My father
liked Chad a lot, and thought he was a good influence on me.   He used to
say, "Chad is a real man's man."
I didn't fulfill the early promise to myself for becoming a star
marathoner.   For one thing, I didn't have the drive to push myself to
extremes in training.   Chad could see this.   I enjoyed running and Chad
was instrumental in teaching me that running for was for fitness, both
mental and physical, not just to win.   When I crossed the course finish
line in 6th place at the State finals, Chad put his arm around my
shoulder and said "Light, you did just fine, now lets go eat
After taking a shower at the hosting high school, Chad drove us to a
diner.  "You'll never guess what I majored in, at first, in college," he
said as we began our meal.   I assumed that he'd gone to college majoring
in phys ed and I couldn't even guess at anything else. "Philosophy!" he
said, laughing, "but then I switched to phys ed." His talk about college
years kept me mesmerized eceived.  He talked about other personal things
too, just like he would to a friend.   It was the first time I was with
him completely alone, without other runners, and he seemed to like being
with me as much as I did him.
Evening approached as we arrived back at the motel.  The small room had a
black tiled bathroom and a B&W television with only one rabbit ear.
However, it was clean and to be with Chad alone anywhere, even in the
city dump, would be better than a suite at the Plaza with my family, as
far as I was concerned.   As soon as we got back to the room, Chad put on
his sweat pants and headed out for a quick run and I turned on the TV
while awaiting his return.   I couldn't very well go along with him since
I'd just finished a ten-mile race. The TV was shitty so after a few
minutes I turned it off and started pacing around the room.   Chad's gym
bag sat on a chair near one of the beds, and on the back of the chair
were his clothes that he'd removed a few minutes before, before going out
on his run.   I touched his red sport shirt, feeling under the arms which
were slightly moist, and then put my fingers to my nostrils to breathe in
the aromatic smell that was Chad.   I picked up his brown leather belt,
running my fingers over its gold buckle, and then trying it on for size,
pretending it was Chad wrapped around me.   On the floor, just hidden by
the bedspread, he'd tossed his dirty underwear when he changed into his
jock strap.  There they were, white Fruit of the Looms, blue stripe on
the waistband.   I picked them up and brought them close to inspect
them.     A few of Chad's pubic hairs clung to the cotton inner pouch and
I brought his underwear to my face and breathed in deeply, trying to
imagine his big balls and warm genitals and that mass of thick dark hair
caressing my face.   I wanted to jerk off right then with his underwear
on my face.  Since he said he was coming back in a few minutes, I
resisted the impulse to jerk off, but thought I had to keep them as a
souvenir.  I thought Chad probably wouldn't even miss them. ce.   At the
same time, I was feeling perverted for stealing his underwear, but I took
the chance.   I put them in my gym bag, wrapping them inside one of the
extra T- shirts my mother packed.
I turned the TV back on and pretended to be absorbed in it when he came
back in the room and headed for the bathroom to take a shower.   The door
to the bathroom opened and the whole room filled with the warm steamy
smell of Chad.   He emerged, a white towel wrapped around his waist, and
stood at the bathroom door with his hand on his hip.  He seemed puzzled.
First he moved toward the chair beside his bed then looked around on the
floor.    He said "You know, that's funny, I forgot to bring a clean pair
of underwear, and I can't seem to find the pair I took off before I went
running."  I tried to look casual but I felt as though I was caught.  He
got down on his hands and knees and started looking under the bed.   I
grabbed my gym bag and headed into the bathroom quickly, shutting the
door behind me.   After flushing the toilet, having pretended I had taken
a leak, I came out holding his underwear in my hand and tossed them to
him, trying to control my voice as I said "here they are, you must've
left them in the bathroom."
He smiled and put them on.   I turned the TV to an even fuzzier channel
and noticed that Chad was not getting dressed further, he just sat in his
underwear as if in deep thought over something. Finally he said "you took
my underwear didn't you."  I looked at him in mock surprise, trying to
act as though the accusation was outrageous.   I knew I couldn't lie.
He'd figured it out some how and there was no use lying.   After a pause
I said "yes," as the skin on my face turned into a burning blush.   He
could see that I was embarrassed and he didn't want to prolong my agony.
No problem.   I was slightly relieved to see he was reacting well but
still felt embarrassed.   He acted like he was almost pleased, but I was
hardly aware of his reaction.
Chad jumped up from his bed, turned off the TV, and stood facing me
wearing only his underwear. I couldn't look at his face.   I turned my
head to the side and looked down at the bed.  "Aw, come on Light, it's no
big thing" he said as I felt his hand on my shoulder.  "If it matters to
you, I feel the same way about you" he said in a softer voice, in a
manner that allowed me to look up at him.   I felt that I might be dead
or dreaming, but the look in his eyes told me he meant what he said and
that he was really there.   Tears came pouring silently out of my eyes.
"Aw, come on Light, don't cry" he said softly, as he drew me into his
arms and put his face right up to mine, and licked at my tears with his
tongue, like a dog might.   Dreamlike, I opened my mouth and kissed him,
sucking at his mouth like it was a nipple. I could feel his hardon
pressing on my leg as we lay back on the bed, and my own cock sprang to
attention.  He kissed and licked me all over, as he undressed me, he took
off his underwear.   He stood up next to me and bent his knees so that
his crotch was next to my face.  I put my face in his thick public hair
and breathed in, while feeling with my hands around his chest and
thighs.   I let my lips touch his balls and then tasted them, licking
them slowly as I let my tongue glide up the shaft of his hard dick.   As
I took his cock into my mouth he moaned with pleasure and positioned me
on the bed so we could both suck at the same time. I came once, and
during the next few hours, came four more times, each time as intense as
the last.
From the exhaustion of sex and running, we fell asleep in each other's
arms, and I woke up to see him propped on one elbow, his face a few
inches from my own. "Did I ever tell you, you are beautiful" he said, as
he touched my forehead and played with a shock of hair that always
managed to stand on end.   His words about my beauty sounds cliche now,
but Chad spoke then with sincerity
We made love again, and headed for breakfast.  When we got back to the
room, we gathered our things together and I took a long look at the bed
where "it" happened, and shut the door.   Sliding into the front seat of
his car, he handed me a small brown bag. "Here's a present for you to
remember our trip by." Inside were his underwear, the one and only pair
used to wipe his semen off me the night before. "If it hadn't been for
these, we might have never found each other", he said, as he pulled the
car out of the motel lot.