Date: Mon, 2 Jun 2003 13:53:08 EDT
From: TW
Subject: White Briefs and the Burglar

     It was a hot, humid night and I'd gone to bed with the window
wide open.  I knew it was risky, living as I was in a ground-floor
apartment, in the Hillcrest area of San Diego, but it was the only way I
would stay cool enough to sleep.  I'd climbed into bed wearing just a
pair of white Calvin Klein briefs, and I pulled the thin sheet up to my
waist.  I'd contemplated jerking off, but tomorrow was Sunday and I
could lie in late and jerk off then.  Masturbation is so much better in
the mornings, especially if one has time to prolong the action,
approaching orgasm and backing off, over and over until one loses control
and shoots a huge load.
     I must have fallen asleep, because I was suddenly aware of something
hard and metallic pressing into my cheek.
     "Make a sound, and you're dead!"
     I opened my eyes and saw a tall figure, dressed in a black T shirt
and jeans, wearing a ski-mask, looming over me, with a handgun pressed
against my face.
     "Where do you keep your money?" he snarled.
     "Can I talk?"
     "Of course you can talk, asshole."
     "You told me not to make a sound."
     "Yeah, well talk now.  Where's the cash?"
     "My wallet's on the bedside table, right there."
     His free hand reached for the bedside lamp, turned it on, picked up
the wallet and flipped it open.
     "Three dollars?  Three fucking dollars? Do you mean to tell me that
I broke in here, risking a prison sentence for three fucking dollars?"
     "I'm sorry, that's all the cash I have.  I never carry much
cash.  I use credit cards and checks."
     "Well your fucking cards are no use to me.  Using those will get me
in trouble real quick.  What you got here that's valuable?"
     "Well, there's my computer, the TV, and a lot of dirty laundry.
That's about it."
     "A laptop?"
     "No, a PC, over there on the desk."
     He stepped back, and still pointing the gun at me, went over to the
desk and hit the power button on the PC.  After a few seconds, my start
page with its unique wall-paper came up.
     "Well, get a look at this!"  Behind the icons on the screen was a
close up of my midriff, dressed in tight white briefs, with my stiff dick
poking out of the fly.
     "So now we know all about your orientation," he said.  "Nice pic,
though."
     "Take the PC if you have to, but please stop pointing that gun at
me."
     "Relax, kid," he said.  "The PC's too fucking heavy to lug
around, and it's traceable as well.  Keep the fucking thing.  What
else you got?"
     "That's about it."
     "Shit," he said, "I really should consider a career change.  Christ,
it's hot in here."  He peeled the ski mask off and dropped it on the
floor.  Coming back over to the bed, he sat down and wiped his brow with
the sheet.  This resulted in the exposure of the lower half of my body,
in my white underpants.  He gave me an appreciative glance.
     "Mmmm," he said, "Nice."  Then his gaze went back to the bedside
table.
     "Ah, what's this?"  He'd spotted my love-cuffs.  "A pair of
fucking handcuffs, would you believe.  Just what we need."
     He picked them up and snapped them over my wrists.   Then he put the
gun down on the table, pulled his belt out of its loops, passed the belt
through the cuffs, put the end through the buckle and pulled it all the
way through.  Now he had my wrists secured on the end of a three-foot
leather strap.  With the other end of the belt, he took a couple of turns
round the knob at the corner of the bed-head, and secured it with a
half-hitch.
     "Now you're all mine,"  he said.  "Seeing as you don't have
anything worth stealing, I guess I'll just have to take it out in
trade."
     "Oh, my God," I cried, "Are you gonna rape me?"
     "Why not?  You're a fucking faggot, aren't you."
     "That's not exactly how I'd describe myself.  True, I've
been fucked before, but what about AIDS?"
     "Don't worry," he said, "I sell my blood plasma down at the
clinic every two weeks and they test for STD's every time.  I'm
as clean as a whistle.  I may be a thieving bastard, but I don't go
spreading diseases.  Now you said something about dirty laundry?"
     "In the hamper in the bathroom."
     "Don't go away," he said, went into the bathroom and came out
holding a pair of my white briefs.  I prayed they didn't have skid
marks.  He held them up to his face and inhaled deeply.  "Ah," he said,
"these are beautiful.  At least I'll leave here with something."
     "You're welcome to those," I said, "Would you please leave?"
     "You'll just call the cops.  Anyway, you've seen my face
now."
     "I promise I won't call the cops.  What would I tell them?  You
took a pair of briefs?  Not the crime of the century."
     "I can't risk it.  I'm gonna make sure you won't want to
call them."
     "Ugh-oh!"
     "Don't get alarmed."  He leaned in close and smiled.  "I'm
gonna give you such a good time, the only number you'll ever wanna
call is mine."
     Maybe this was going to turn out O.K.  He didn't seem to be
overly aggressive and as a thief he was pretty inept, so perhaps if I
went along with him, he'd eventually leave me in peace.  He stood up,
gazing at my body, letting his glance linger on my white Calvins.
     "Is that the beginning of a hard-on I can see there?" he asked.
     True enough, my bulge was beginning to grow.
     "God, I love guys in white briefs!" he groaned, a sentiment that I
shared.  He unbuttoned the top of his jeans and slowly pulled his zipper
down.  I could see a flash of white.  At least the color's right, I
thought.  As he slowly, tantalizingly spread the flaps of his jeans
apart, I saw the FTL logo on his waistband.  Fruit of the Looms.  Almost
as good as Calvins.  I hoped they were clean.
     "Keep looking," he said as he slowly lowered the jeans to his knees.
He massaged his basket, thrusting his hips out lewdly.  "I love doing a
strip tease.  How do I look?"
     My stiff cock was now tenting my briefs, so I couldn't tell a
lie.
     "To be honest, pretty fucking tasty,"  I said.  Perhaps tasty was a
poor word to select, I thought, it might give him ideas.
     "Look at you," he said, "You're getting a hard-on.  You're
paying me a nice compliment."
     "I can't help myself."
     "You know, there's no more beautiful sight than a guy in white
briefs with a big boner waiting to be serviced."
     "Unless it's two guys."
     He laughed.  "I'm beginning to like you."  He dropped his jeans
to the floor, stepped out of them and came and sat on the bed.  His white
briefs were immaculately clean. He leaned forward and whispered in my
ear,  "I wanted you to undress me, but you have to stay handcuffed.  I
hope you understand."  His voice which earlier had been rough, now
sounded gentle and reassuring.  He smelled clean, with a faint aroma of
deodorant and soap.  This night might turn out to be quite exciting.  "Do
you have a boyfriend?"
     "We broke up recently," I said.
     "What did you guys do together, in bed, I mean, you know, sex and
that."
     "Gentlemen don't tell," I said.
     He laughed.  "Then I'll just have to improvise."  He leaned
forward again.  "Do you like to suck dick?  Because I do.  I love the
taste of a nice hot, stiff dick.  I suck dick every chance I get, and I
love the taste of cum.  Did you swallow his cum?"
     I didn't need to answer.  The expression on my flushed face told
him what he needed to know.  He pulled off his T shirt and threw it on
the floor.  He had a slender body with a hairless chest.  My cock felt
like it was going to burst.  He must have sensed it because he bent down
and looked at the wet spot on my briefs, then kissed the end of my cock
through the cotton, and began to nibble on it with his teeth.  His hand
cupped my balls and massaged them gently.
     "You're getting me all hot," I said.
     "Not as hot as you're getting me.  How would you like to taste
my dick?"  Without waiting for me to reply, he knelt with his knees on
either side of my chest, his basket just inches from my face, his
erection pushing the front of his FTL's out in an inviting way.  I
lifted my head, straining to reach him, but his belt was keeping my arms
above my head, and I could not get close enough.  He manipulated his cock
out of the fly and brought it close to my face.  It was average size,
nice and straight, uncut with no big ugly veins, somewhat like my own.  I
was dying to suck it, but he continued to tease me, bringing his dick
just so close but not quite near enough.  He reached behind with his hand
and massaged my cock through my briefs, the front of which were getting
wetter.
     "Please," I begged, "Let me suck it."
     "Oh, I love to hear a guy beg.  Nothing turns me on like a guy
begging for it.  I even like to beg for it myself, so don't feel too
bad.  Here, I'll take pity on you."  He leaned forward, slapped my
face a few times with his beautiful dick, then took his hand away,
allowing my lips to close around the head of his cock.  I worked my
tongue underneath his foreskin, principally for the taste, but also to
try to bring him to orgasm.  He started to pump his cock in and out of my
mouth, fucking my face.  I hoped he would cum so that I could taste and
swallow it, but after a while he sat back down on my chest.
     "I'm too fucking close," he said. "and I haven't gotten to
sucking you, yet."  He climbed off me and sat down on the edge of the
bed.   With both hands, he gently eased my Calvins down over my hips,
lifted out the front so that my cock sprang out, and slid them down to
just below my balls.
     "Man!  What a fucking beautiful dick.  That's the nicest dick
I've ever seen."  He leaned down and sniffed at the end.  "Mmm, nice
aroma.  Oh, Jesus, I have to suck that."  With one hand round the base of
my shaft and the other fondling my balls, he lowered his head and took me
in his mouth.  This guy was one expert cocksucker.  It was hard to know
exactly what he was doing with his tongue and lips, but it was driving me
crazy.  With licks and kisses, nibbles and sucks, he sampled the generous
flow of precum that my dick offered him. With his head bobbing up and
down he masturbated me with his lips until I could feel my orgasm
building.  He seemed to sense it and sat upright.
     "Oh, you can't cum yet, I haven't fucked you.  You do want
to get fucked, don't you?"
     "Christ, yes," I said.  "Who wouldn't wanna get fucked by a stud
like you.  Stick your dick in me, all the way in.  I wanna feel your big
stiff cock all the way up my ass."  My words were turning us both on, I
could see that the end of his dick was dripping wet, covered with his
natural lube.  Nevertheless, I said, "There's lube in the drawer
beside the bed."  What better invite could he have gotten?  He reached
for the lube, squeezed a big blob onto his hand, and coated his dick
liberally.  Then he pulled my underpants further down to my knees, lifted
my legs up in the air, positioned himself, and pushed his dick against my
waiting hole.
     I love it when a dick makes first contact with my pucker.  Sometimes
I keep it clamped shut, just to prolong the pleasure, enjoying the
anticipation, but this time I needed to be fucked so badly that I
couldn't wait.  I relaxed my sphincter and let him push.  There was a
brief spike of pain, and then he was in, thrusting his cock further up my
ass with each lunge of his hips.  At first, my dick went soft, but within
seconds, I was rock hard again.
     "Shit!  That feels so fucking good!" I yelled, not caring who heard
me.  "Ram that fucking cock up my hole!  Fuck me senseless!  Jesus, I
needed this."  Looking down, I wasn't able to see his cock , but I
could see his hips still clothed in the white cotton of his briefs.  I
was glad he had left them on.  Even when I'm being gloriously fucked,
with a ramrod dick shoved right up my ass to its hilt, the sight of a guy
in briefs adds a further erotic element. Furthermore, the fact that I was
tied up, my arms still up above my head, my feeling of helplessness and
total vulnerability, Knowing that he could do anything he wanted to me,
was making this the best fuck I'd ever had in my very active gay
life.  His cock was filling me completely with each thrust, and he was
gazing in to my eyes with unchecked lust.
     Just when I thought he was about to cum, he abruptly pulled out.
     "What's the matter," I said, "I hoped you were going to cum
inside me."
     "I want you to cum first," he said, and lowered his head on to the
soaking wet head of my dick.  I lowered my legs, so that my underpants,
stretched between my knees, now lay across the back of his neck.  Between
sucks, he said, "Cum in my mouth!  Gimme a great big load of spunk for me
to swallow!"  It didn't take long.  I was so aroused that within
seconds, I could feel my cum traveling up to the end of my dick and
pulsing into his eager mouth.  He took the first shot in his mouth, then
let the remaining three or four jets to land on my stomach.  He stroked
and milked me, finishing me off, licking the final drop and grinning
lasciviously.
     "Man, you taste fucking good.  Nicest cum I've had in days."
     He extricated himself from my underwear and stood up.  His stiff
shaft still poked out of the fly of his FTL's.  Despite the fact that
I had just cum, it was still an incredibly erotic sight.  He picked up
the pair of briefs that he had found in my laundry hamper and wiped the
cum off my stomach with them.
     "God, I love the smell of fresh cum.  Here, have a smell."  He
brought the briefs to my nose and I inhaled deeply.  The aroma of my own
cum made my head spin.   "I'm gonna keep these as a souvenir," he
said, bringing them to his own nose and giving them a good sniff.  Then
he peeled of his own briefs, wrapped them around his dick and began to
beat of into them.  Ten seconds later I could see from his facial
expression that he was cumming into his underpants.  He wiped himself
clean and threw them at me.  "You can keep these to remember me by."
     "I'm never gonna forget you," I said.
     He undid the leather belt from the bed-head, and with the key that
was lying on the table, unlocked the cuffs.  My arms were aching from
being held over my head for so long.
     "You gonna call the cops on me?" he asked.
     "Why would I wanna share you with the cops.  I want you all to
myself."
     From the drawer in the bedside table, I pulled out my check book,
and started to write.
     "Whatcha doin'?" he asked.
      "This is a check for two hundred bucks," I said.  "I wouldn't
want you to have broken in here for nothing.  By the way, I never lock
that window."

If you enjoyed this, try my other "White Brief" stories.