Date: Sun, 07 Apr 2024 02:59:44 +0000
From: JD <JoshuaDraken@protonmail.com>
Subject: Buying Landon's Underwear

Dear reader - this is a story I've been working on for some time - my
second story on Nifty. Yes, this is all a fantasy. Yes, I live in a
fantasy word. The real world doesn't work like this - be nice if it did.
Don't break the laws of where you live. Be responsible as you enjoy your
fantasies. Remember, this is fantasy.

It can be lonely living in a fantasy world. I enjoy hearing from readers.
Send me an email me at joshuadraken@protonmail.com

Please donate to Nifty. This service isn't free to maintain. Any
contribution will be appreciated by those that maintain this site.

Chapter 1 - (m/b - underwear fetish)
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It started with a pair of underwear. Used underwear to be exact. Used
Ethika boys' underwear to be even more precise. I don't like to spend a
lot of money on underwear, and I am not averse to wearing used - albeit
clean - underwear that I can get online for a fraction of the price of
new underwear. New Ethika underwear is spendy - used, not so much.

I'd ordered several pairs of underwear - men's medium - from a new seller
on ebay. When they arrived, I was initially annoyed to find that I'd
received boys' medium underwear instead of men's medium. Initially
annoyed, but not ultimately annoyed. I checked the listing and saw that
they had listed them as boys' so the fault was on me...or wouldn't be on
me because I could not fit into them no matter how much I tried.

My annoyance turned to intrigue. I held in my hands several pairs of
underwear previously worn by a young boy. My heart began to speed up.
These were covering a boy's privates. These were hugging his young buns.
These just might have received a few oopsies in their brief life. I
gently laid all but one pair aside and carefully, reverently, and slowly
turned this pair inside out. I found the seam separating his crotch from
his ass - the seam that got to snuggle up to his taint - and I brought it
to my nose. I closed my eyes and took a big sniff of the inner seam of
these underwear.

I smelled detergent, nothing more. I sniffed all around - from the double
padding that nestles his young balls to the fabric right behind his
pucker. Detergent through and through. I set that pair aside and picked
up the next one.

I'm a boy-lover. Correction, I'm a crypto-boy-lover - as in, I love boys,
but I've never loved a boy. I've admired them from afar. I've fantasized
about them intimately. I've dreamed of the day a young boy would
willingly return my affection because he cares for me and wants to do fun
stuff. But it's all fantasy. I'd never hurt a boy by doing anything he
didn't want to do.

In my late teens I realized I loved younger boys more than anyone else on
the spectrum of sexuality. Specifically, prepubescent boys on the cusp of
puberty. Randy and active boys that don't yet need deodorant to cover
their raging teenage hormones.

I was ashamed. I was aghast. I was worried someone would find out. I
thought about seeking professional help, but that never works out well
for anyone attracted to minors. I prayed. I burned sage. I showered in
holy water. I bought crystals. I did peyote. I donated money to charity.
I took a pilgrimage to the most holy place I could think of - a spot near
my home with a replica of Stonehenge. Nothing worked to remove the taint
of boy love.

Yeah, that little taint was all I could think about. Sticking my nose in
it. Running my tongue over it. Following the seam of skin from the root
of a boy's balls right into the rift between his glorious globes of
flesh. I keep envisioning myself tonguing a boy's young starfish. Poking
myself into his holy of holies. I had it bad and nothing stopped the
thoughts for long.

That was 15 years ago. I've come to accept that I am purely and
unequivocally attracted to young, smooth boys. I had never done anything
I'd dreamed of except roughhouse with a few boys at one of the temples I
attended as a teenager. I avoided boys. I avoided thinking about boys. I
avoided places where boys went. I did everything I could think of to
never think about boys in a sexual way. I was so depressed.

That all changed once I lifted the fourth pair of used Ethika underwear.
I brought it to my nose, and there it was! Amid the detergent - much less
than previous pairs - was the unmistakable smell of boy, right from his
ass. It was faint and only in one spot, but as I breathed out warm air,
it grew in strength. My nose was filled with the smell of a young boy's
essence.

Instantly I was hard. With one had holding the prize to my nose, I pushed
my shorts down with the other and began wanking with a fever. I lay back
on my bed, pressed the wonderful scent to my nose, and grabbed one of the
previously sniffed underwear to wrap around my engorged penis. I slid the
smooth fabric over my cock and used it to wank myself. I was jacking into
a pair of boys' underwear while smelling a boy's essence!

The rush was extreme. I could smell the ass I was fantasizing about. I
could feel the cloth of the underwear - smooth like the skin of a
12-year-old boy - as I stroked. I pressed the used underwear hard against
my face, and with one last inhale, I came buckets in the pair I had over
my cock. Oh, it was glorious.

The pair in my hand was soaked with my cum. I looked at it, saw my seed
soaking into the fabric, and knew right then that I would never come into
any other item of clothing except boys' underwear.

From that day on, my obsession for used boys' underwear grew. I saved
searches for pre-owned underwear. I marked sellers. I scrutinized
descriptions for the right set of words - "lightly used" "pre-loved" "my
boy grew out of these, but they were his favorites and have lots of life
left in them."

I now have over 300 pairs of used boys' underwear. My fetish is fully
realized. I sort them by size, by pattern, by maker, by signs of use. I
have my favorites - Ethika for sure, but my second favorite is Pikachu.
In fact, Pikachu is my go-to jack pair. I have several crusty pairs of
Pokemon underwear that I keep adding loads to. My fantasy is, of course,
that I've found a pair that a boy has just started to cum into - an early
bloomer.

In my collection, I have many pairs with the coveted aromas in them - the
scent of a boy's most intimate of intimates - his glory smell. I don't
wank in those. Nope. Don't want to dilute the boy ambrosia. I stick a
pair of those under my nose and wank onto Pikachu while chuffing boy ass
- my inhalant of choice.

Until recently, I imagined my fetish had found its fulfillment. I was
happy to pursue new finds on the various used clothing websites - even
branching out to pajama bottoms, socks, and the occasional swimsuit.
Until recently, that is. That all changed with a knock on my front door.

My doorbell does occasionally sound when I need to sign for a package.
But no one knocks on doors that isn't expected. And if you are expected,
you've already texted me to tell me you are near. Then one or two knocks
before opening the door on your way inside. Totally expected. So...to get
an unanticipated knock on the front door is curious but not too weird.
Probably just some brain cult selling their wares - magazines,
philosophy, meat - you know, the usual.

I opened the door reluctantly. I would have ignored it, but the knock
came again. One knock and maybe it was just a package or something else
left on my doorstep to find later. But when I got the door open, I had a
rather large shock. Or, actually, a small shock, because there was a boy
on my porch. A very cute boy with dusty blond hair and a quick but shy
smile.

"Oh hello," I said - yeah, lamely.

"Hi, I have a package for you." He held out an obviously recycled eBay
box, taped and labeled.

"Oh, did it get delivered to the wrong address?" I had packages coming,
but none were supposed to arrive today. I order so much shit. I reached
for the box.

"No, it's for you. From me. Well, actually my mom, since she's the one
with the account, but I do all the work posting, packaging, and mailing.
I mean, it's a lot of work getting the pictures, writing the description,
posting, and tracking the views. Then there's printing the label, packing
the boxes, and taking them to post office."

OMG! He was so cute. Rambling on while holding the box. He gestured to it
a few times but continued to talk. I dove into his eyes and got lost
immediately. After a few seconds of pure boy worship, I wondered why an
11-year-old boy (best guess) was standing on my porch handing me a
package that should have been mailed with the appropriate label. And,
most importantly, how could I extend the interaction longer so that he
didn't just disappear after handing me the box?

"So, I decided I could pocket the postage and deliver this myself since
you're just across the street from me. See," he turned and pointed to a
top window. "That's my room. I'm saving for a new game console - one of
the handheld ones, but I don't really know which one yet. I'm still
researching it.

"I can't decide if I want the Steam deck or the newest Sony handheld. I
have lots of games on Steam already, but then there's Zelda, and I really
want to play that too. Then I'd have to get a Switch. But, I decided, if
I sell lots of stuff, I could get all of them. Then I wouldn't have to
pick which one I should get." He paused, looked at the box, looked at me,
and blushed...so cutely. "I'm rambling, aren't I? Mom says I ramble at
the least opportunity. Sorry. Here you go." He thrust out the box to me,
and I reached out to take it from him.

"Thanks," I said as I processed all he said. I looked up to the window
indicated and glanced back down at him quickly - realization hitting me.
His window. This cute little Adonis lives right across the street, and
better yet, his room is right - the fuck - there!

I glanced down at the mailing label. It was my name and address but there
was no postage or tracking, just a piece of paper with my details written
on it. How did this even get delivered?

"Hope you don't mind there isn't a postage label. Um...so...Ok, there you
go," he turned, started to walk away, but stopped and turned back around.
"Um, are you Jay Tee 2 Zee 8941?"

I looked up in shock. That was my username for the clothing sites I buy
from. How did he know that?

"Um, yeah." I was hesitant, but what harm could come from knowing a
username? Not like I was giving out a 6-digit code someone sent me to
confirm my identity in order to return a lost pet. Fucking scammers.

"I hope he likes them. They were some of my favorites." He said with a
smile as he stepped back towards me.

"Uh, who?" I was getting more confused and stumbling for a way to keep
him talking.

"Your son. How old is he?" He peered around me as if trying to see
someone inside my house.

"I don't have any kids."

"You don't?" His face scrunched up, and he pursed his lips in deep
thought. "But you got a bunch of my old underwear. I've never seen a boy
here, but I thought maybe he's visiting - sorta like when I go stay with
my dad for the weekends. He can't be too much younger than me if we wear
almost the same size underwear."

Uh, oh. This just got worrisome. Then something he said caught my
attention.

"Wait a sec, these are your underwear? Your used underwear?" I hefted the
package full of undies that were, until very recently, supporting this
young boy's very own package. I immediately started to chub up. These
were his. The boy standing in front of me - the underwear I had in my
hand - were his. The growing realization was matching the growing
sensation from my pants. Oh, I was definitely going to be wanking into
these underwear very soon!

"Yeah, they were mine. They aren't in bad shape. I didn't have any
accidents in them, if that's what you mean. Mom won't let me sell any she
thinks are too worn, and never a pair that had an error in them - that's
what she calls it." He caught himself, realized what he just said, and
blushed again. "But I don't do that anymore. I'm not a little kid. These
are like new. I only wore a few of them a couple times. Like the Pikachu
ones. I wore them once. They were too tight when I put them on. They
pinched too much, made my balls hurt." He looked at me again. "Oh, sorry.
Oversharing. That's what mom calls it. I ramble and overshare a lot."

I grabbed the door frame with my free hand. It was that or topple over in
pure delight. I could have creamed by pants right then. Pikachu was
squeezing his balls. Yep, gonna nut in these briefs the moment I get back
inside and open the package.

"So...why are you buying boy's underwear if you don't have a boy?"

"Good point." Very good point. How do I get out of this one? Then it hit
me. I knew what to say. "I collect them."

"What? You collect them...like...Lego, collect?"

"Yep, you'd be surprised at how valuable some of the limited run
underwear are. Ethika in particular...and some of the Pokemon ones," I
added somewhat lamely. But I had to say something about Pokemon since
Pikachu, my favorite and the most fuckable Pokemon of all time, was just
wrapped around his balls.

"Really? Wow, I didn't know underwear were collectibles."

"Yeah, most people don't know. I'm trying to keep it a little-known
secret."

"Ah, cool. But if they are collectables, then wouldn't they be worth more
new and in the package?"

Oh yeah, around his package they were certainly worth more.

"I'd think used underwear wouldn't be worth anything."

"That's...a very good point." It was too good of a point. "But that's
what most people think. To the discerning collector, used limited edition
boy's underwear is more valuable. Anyone could buy them new. But to have
authenticated limited-edition underwear is better."

"Authenticated? What's that?"

"Signed. You know, like football cards signed by the player are worth
more. That's what authenticated is." Ok, I knew that wasn't correct.
Authenticated is when a witness sees the actual player sign...or assures
the investor that the signature is real. But I was making this shit up on
the spot, so I wasn't going to always score on the first kick.

"How are the underwear authenticated? Do I have to sign them?"

"Well, yes, you do sign them. But not in the way you are thinking. True
limited-edition underwear have to be worn by a boy to be authenticated.
That's why new limited-edition underwear aren't worth as much. To have a
special pair of underwear worn by an actual boy is what every collector
dreams of."

"But...how do you know I actually wore them? I mean, there are lots of
scams online. Couldn't someone just buy a package of Pikachu, open it,
and then post that they are selling used underwear?"

"Yeah, they could. That's what the levels of authentication are for. The
bottom level, what you are suggesting, is called 'suspect authentication'
or SA. It's used when the collector can't vouch for anything higher." I
leaned against the doorjamb in a relaxed way. He also looked like he was
in no hurry to leave.

"What's the next level of authentication?" he asked.

"Body authentication, or BA. The underwear must have signs of use like a
slightly frayed waistband or worn cloth. Usually, the label in the back
of the underwear is fading or almost gone. There are 3 levels of BA:
light, medium, and heavy." I counted them off on my fingers. "Light is
label wear, washing, minimal wear. Medium is when the label is mostly
gone, the fabric is worn from use, and the waistband is obviously
stretched from wear. Heavy is...well...I'm not sure I should tell you." I
was getting into dangerous territory again.

"Why?"

"Because you aren't a collector. You're not part of the organization. Not
part of the club. It's kinda secret, and I shouldn't be telling you all
this."

He stepped closer. "I won't tell anyone, I promise!"

"Well, I think it will be fine since you are a supplier. Fine, you're
in."

"Great! What's Heavy?"

"Heavy is when there are stains in the underwear in addition to both
Light and Medium wear."

"Stains?"

"Yeah, poop stains, pee stains. You know, oopsies."

"Ugh, that's gross...right? Who would want to have dirty underwear. My
mom tells me to throw away any with stains."

"That's why they are so valuable, because everyone else throws them away.
A true find, a class 3 - Heavy Body Authentication of a limited-edition
Pikachu is extremely rare. In all my years collecting I've only found 2
of them. And they are worth a lot of money to me."

"Wow. I didn't know they were worth so much money. I need to tell my mom
that we need to be selling them and not throwing them away."

"Hmmm. I wouldn't do that if I were you." Now we were entering really
precarious territory. How to get him to keep this all a willing secret?

"Why not? If they are worth so much money."

"That's the problem with Body Authentication - any level. It's like you
said earlier, there are scammers out there. If they knew about the rating
system and how valuable used underwear is, then some 300-pound man named
Chuck - who lives in his mother's basement - would buy boys' underwear,
wipe his butt with them, and sell them online. By not telling anyone -
except true collectors - about the rating system, we are avoiding that
type of scam. So, that is why you can't tell your mom."

"She wouldn't do that."

"But she might tell someone else who might. And then my membership would
be revoked for sharing secrets."

"Oh yeah, her new boyfriend - Travis - he would totally do something like
that. I don't like him. He's mean."

"Exactly."

"How do I know if I have more limited-edition underwear? I might have
sold all of them."

"Oh, I'm sure you do. There are stores where all they sell are limited
edition, and I bet your mom gets all your underwear from one place,
right?"

"Yeah, Marshall's up the road."

"Yep, that's one of the stores all right. Do you have any other listings
for used underwear up right now?"

"Um, I think there is one other one - a Paw Patrol and a pair of
Minecraft underwear."

"That so? Well, I'm going to go inside, check if they are limited
edition, and buy them if so. And you can save more postage money by
delivering them yourself."

"Awesome! I hope they are limited edition. Thanks." He turned and started
to run off. I glued my eyes to his young butt the moment he turned
around. Bummer that his T-shirt was so long.

"Oh hey!" He turned back around and stuck out his hand. "My name is
Landon. I'm 12."

I took his outstretched hand and gave it a firm shake. "Nice to meet you
Landon, my name is Josh. I'm 33."

With that, he spun around and ran back to his house. Right before he
disappeared inside, he turned and saw me watching him. He smiled and
waved before closing the door. I turned and re-entered my house. I was
certain I was walking 3 to 4 inches off the ground. I was high on boy
contact.

As I closed the door, I wondered if I really had said all that to Landon,
the ultra cute boy from right across the street. Better yet, I was
holding a box of his used underwear. I was a little disappointed to know
that there wouldn't be any underwear with glorious boy smells in them,
but the fact that I knew the boy they were recently on would make up for
it. These were going to be my newest favorite underwear.

I went upstairs, grabbed my laptop, and took it into the room at the
front of the house that I had turned into a guest room. I was going to be
using this room much more, I thought. I pulled up his seller ID, searched
for the Paw Patrol and Minecraft underwear, and bought them immediately.
I'd passed over them in my searches because they didn't look like they
were all that worn out. Now it didn't matter. I would have purchased new
underwear from his account knowing that he would deliver them himself.

With the purchase out of the way, I ripped open the box and gently
explored all 4 pairs of Landon's used underwear. Sure enough, there was
Pikachu, and he was just a bit smaller than the other pairs. I could
understand why Landon's balls were pinched, but I think I detected a bit
of a smile on Pikachu's face - or maybe that was my smile as I pulled out
my cock, wrapped the yellow Pokemon around it and started to wank.

Before I got 2 strokes into my session, the light in Landon's room went
on, and he appeared through the window. The windows on the upper rooms in
this complex were big. I could see most of his room. His house looked to
be a mirror layout of mine. I faded back into my room, but he never
looked out the window. He went right to his computer and opened the lid.
I could see him hovering over the screen but couldn't see what he was
doing. His screen was turned on his desk so I could see it, but it was
just too far away for details. Guess I'd be bringing that unused spotting
scope from the hall closet into this room very soon.

My computer dinged. I saw he'd accepted the sale and marked the package
as having a shipping label created. Next, he went to his closet and
pulled out a package. Unless I missed my guess, those were the underwear
I'd just purchased. He brought them to his desk and opened the package.
He pulled out the 2 pairs of underwear, yep - definitely mine now, and
started to inspect them. He turned them inside out and made my cock
twitch when he sniffed the crotch. He went to put them back in the
packaging but stopped and cocked his head to the side as if just having a
thought.

He turned and walked to the window. He was looking at my front door with
a serious expression on his face. He stood there for almost 30 seconds
while glancing repeatedly at the underwear in his hands. He was obviously
deep in thought. Then, with a nod of his head, he turned around, went to
his desk and put the underwear down.

He walked to his door, closed it, and returned to his desk. I was
completely stunned by what he did next. With one swift motion, he grabbed
the top of his shorts and pushed them down his legs. All I saw was a
brief flash of bare skin and then his T-shirt dropped to the top of his
thigh, covering what he had just uncovered. I could tell, and so could my
dick, that he'd dropped his underwear too. I stepped closer to the window
- really wishing I'd had one of my cameras with the telephoto lens in my
hands right now. I was not going to leave to get it for fear that the
show would be over before I returned.

Landon picked up one pair of the underwear - the Paw Patrol I assumed
because it was blue - turned it inside out again and then hiked up the
side of his T-shirt. My knees when weak when I saw the creamy white tan
line on his upper thigh and one glorious ass cheek. With the underwear in
his hand, he reached in between his butt cheeks and wiped upwards - right
up his crack. He let his shirt drop as he brought the pair to his nose
and sniffed them. By the way he flinched back, I figured he'd just
stained this pair quite nicely. He repeated the gesture with the second
pair but after the first sniff went back for another wipe. Apparently Paw
Patrol had done their job too well and Minecraft was not going to get as
much of Landon as the puppies had.

I'd been stroking myself the entire time - enjoying the show. Once Landon
was done with the Heavy Authentication routine, he put both pairs in the
package and sealed it. I'd have my hands on those beauties very soon
indeed. What I was even more pleased about was that he didn't put his
shorts back on. He continued to saunter around his room in only his
T-shirt. I just wished the damn thing was shorter. Still, it was
thrilling to watch him knowing how little he had on.

He went to the dresser on the far wall, so his back was to me. He started
to open each drawer, pawing around in them for a moment before moving on
to the next. Instead of kneeling down when he got to the bottom drawer,
he bent almost double, and the back of his shirt rode up just enough to
show me the bottom cleft of his ass and 2 smiling cheeks. He looked so
pert and firm. So soft and creamy. I stroked myself a little bit faster,
Pikachu was doing his job well. The cloth felt so good on my dick. Better
because it was recently cradling Landon's ass - the very one I was
staring at.

All too soon Landon stood up and the shirt dropped back over his
beautiful ass. He had a wad of clothing in his right hand that he plopped
on top of the dresser. As he sorted through the pile, his left hand
slipped up the back of his shirt in search of an itch - by the looks of
it. His behind was revealed again. Oh wonderful backside! I could see the
dimples in his lower back. I drank in the sight of his smooth ass cheeks
and the mysteries of the dark and very inviting crack down the middle.
Oh! Glorious to behold is the virgin ass of a preteen boy.

This could only be better if he turned around, I thought to myself while
stoking my raging hardon.

As if he heard me, he spun around completely with his left arm leaving
the back of his shirt. For one glorious second, I saw his boyhood, bare
and smooth. I saw no sign of hair, but the smooth pubis of a pre-teen
boy. And right in the middle was the delightfully flaccid penis of a
12-year-old boy. The glimpse was too brief for lasting details, but oh
how gorgeous he was!

My breath caught in my chest, my cock twitched, and I came right into the
yellow Pikachu underwear wrapped around my rod. I came several times,
feeling the loads soak the fabric, all the while staring at Landon from
across the street. Oh yes, I wanted to see him much closer, but this was
more than I'd ever imagined, and I was in the throes of orgasm.

Landon wasn't looking at me. He was looking to the side of the window. He
walked to something at the side of the window. When next I saw him, he
was holding his phone and appeared to be texting. Ah, a fortuitous text
message had him turn around right when I needed him to. How wonderful.

He put down the phone, pulled on his shorts, and left the room. When the
light turned off, I turned to the wall, slid down it to sit splay legged
on the carpet, and unwrapped a soaked pair of boys underwear from around
my softening cock. I lifted the pair to my nose, sniffed my cum in his
underwear, and then began to lick up my spew. I imagined I was licking my
semen off Landon himself.

"Fuck me. He's gorgeous."

I'd just fallen in love with the neighbor boy.

----------------------------------- to be continued.
End of Chapter 1