Date: Sun, 16 Dec 2018 19:55:20 -0500 From: Austyn Layne Subject: The Missing Boxers ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ All characters are high school age, all acts and places are fictional; any resemblance to those living or dead is purely coincidental. All language, places and items used in this fiction is meant to give a sense of time and atmosphere, no offense is intended. If this type of story is illegal in your area or if you are not of legal age to read this type of story, then I politely ask you to leave this page. Thank You. Please support Nifty to keep these stories coming. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The Missing Boxers Author: Austyn Layne Randy, always liked to keep a eye on his shit; little was it known to his buddies, that he liked to keep one on them. (You know, when shit comes up missing you want answers.) So he set up a special camera in his bedroom where he kept the money from his numerous 'side hustles' and various 'wares' he sold on the side for Pocket change. Well, this time it wasn't money, Percs, weed or other stuff that was missing; it was a pair of black Aéropostale boxer-shorts, which left randy scratching his head. So, he went over to his trusty ol spy-cam to see if he could figure out what happened. He knew stoner Scott (A farm-boy bull-dog type he'd always fantasized about - wanting to bend-him-over spread his soft fluffy butt-cheeks, eat-him-out then fuck - making him moan like a whore rollin' on 'beans') and some others crashed the other night, and might have for some odd reason... ended up with the boxers. He hooked the cam up to watch so he ffw'd through most of the night, till he saw stoned glassy green-eyed jack-of-all-trades master of none Nebraska farm-boy Scott enter the room - with his camo-winter-coat, weed scented blue hoody and sweaty black and green baseball-cap. Well, hazel eyed S.Dakota boy Randy with his black hair and brown highlights, was pissed, and about to check his stash, but before he could, he noticed shaggy blonde haired Scott, pick up his wrangler jeans after stripping naked and tossing his cement-crusted work-boots and dirty white Hanes socks, sat on the bed and start sniffing them especially the seat and crotch. Scott then pulled off his pants and white FTL underwear and began playing with his chubby prick. Well, Randy in his red flannel shirt and ripped faded blue-jeans was amazed at this, but it didn't stop there. Scott then pulled out the black dirty boxers from the pant leg of randys faded wranglers and put them up to his face, sliding his tongue around the musky dick hole, while fucking his spit soaked fat stoner-dick thrusting up into his closed fist, making the bed shake as his sweaty husky body bounced and twitched, this made Randy kinda horny himself and started rubbing his own long hairy cock in his, denim blue-jeans. He watched in awe of Scott, Scott in bliss with his mind racing like it was on the '3rd plateau' eyes rolled in the back of his head wearing only his retro Hot Topic boy's Dragon-Claw W/black quartz orb pendant - his big hand with stubby fingers jerking his big leaking fat flat-headed throbbing cock getting bigger and longer by the second. At this point, they were jacking-off together in sync separated only by time and space. The way big beefy Scott's size 12 stinky feet, slid wildly across Randy's cum-stained white sheets stinking of Randy's countless half-remembered clumsy 'drunken lays', his toes dancing and grasping in ecstasy. Randy, couldn't help himself; he kept massaging his hard throbbing cock through his jeans and blew a hot stcky load into his own pants, while also, at the same time sweaty Scott's big fat cock - splooged a big white hot thick load all inside Randy's dirty black Aéropostale boxers, emptying his long yearning swollen nuts that hung tight in his big fuzzy nut-sack. Scruff-faced Randy, couldn't get over seeing stoner Scott's beefy ass get up off the bed, naked and glistening with sweat; with a blob of cum dripping onto the brown shag carpeting, from his dick-slit and spark a 'j' with his Bic psychedelic mandala lighter. All Randy could think about was getting the stout stoner-boy on all fours, spreading his big fluffy fuck-pillows - grabbing a fist-full of shaggy blonde hair and riding his moist warm hole, ramming his big long cock into him and making him moan with each stab to his prostate - while the moist hole sucked him in deeper eventually drinking his cum into his sloppy fucked wet stoner-cunt, with the sound of their buzzed skins slapping together in a sea of static and white-noise in the middle 'bum-fuck-egypt' of 'fly-over-America'... Randy couldn't wait. Well, with that now done and both of them now sharing something - a secret now known by Randy; the next time Scott and the boys come over... well, let's just say they're going to have a private conversation in the bedroom - and believe me that cam will be rolling and maybe he'd have that big stoner-boy moaning and groaning... Randy hoped.