Date: Sat, 07 Jul 2012 20:09:16 -0700
From: rahjur@verizon.net
Subject: Incest/Athletics-A Real Jockstrap Fetish

This story involves sex between consenting adults, including related
adults. If you shouldn't be reading it, don't. If you can, go right ahead.

Copyright is to me, and this story may not be reproduced anywhere without
my prior permission.

Feedback can be sent to rahjur@verizon.net

***************

A REAL Jockstrap Fetish
By RNE

Dad always wore a jock. As soon as I was old enough, he raised me the same
way. No tighty whities, boxers, or going rogue. Jock only. No problem, cuz
I just liked it too. My nightly jerk offs usually centered on some jock
pouch fantasy, and I edged by stroking myself through my pouch for
hours. It'd be soiled, threadbare, and moist. I kept it hidden so I could
re-use it again and again. It was my favorite. The pouch had (through time,
use and washings) eventually been molded a likeness of my cock, like it'd
been made out of plaster.  While away at college I had to leave my cache of
jocks in a hidden floorboard to be kept safe. I retrieved it after college,
and my stash grew. Times are tough, and this is a lousy decade so I had to
return home to become a refugee of the unemployed. I’d help Dad
around the house, and tag along whenever he would visit his high school bud
next door. Mr. Taggert, and Dad have been close forever. Dad was a football
jock, and Joe was a gymnast jock. Bottom line, both were jocks. Joe was a
swarthy, hairy, muscle stud, and man did I use his image a lot during my
jerk off episodes. He was all man.

Dad yelled upstairs to me that he'd be going into town, and be gone for
most of the day. “I told Joe that you'd be home if he needed
your help with his mower." "No problem Dad," I answered. Later that morning
I took a run, and when I got back I just hung out upstairs in my room. It
was then that I noticed that Joe was mowing his back yard. I could see
him. He was wearing 501's, and a t-shirt. The shirt was loose fitting, but
he bulged in all the right places. I could see by his sweat that his hairy
chest was a dark mass of fur. Tufts of hair poked up through his collar. He
would stop periodically, pull off his cap, and mop his brow. A
softball-sized muscle would pop up on his arm masquerading as his bicep. I
noticed the wide band of a jock peeking over the waist of his pants. "Nice"
I thought.

He unceremoniously peeled off his dripping wet t-shirt, and continued
mowing his back yard. His mustached lip snarled a grimace while he worked
out. Now when he stopped and wiped his head his hairy armpit was fully
exposed. "Oh man, what a nice pit." I thought. He must have surreptitiously
noticed my spying on him, cuz when he got done he futzed around the back of
his garage that faced my window. I could see him in the shadows putting
away some stuff, and then sit down on his bench press, resting. I could see
him recline, and his crotch bulged a solid round ball as he stretched
out. I was well on my way to a hard on just waiting to see what was
next. His beefy forearm stretched out, and reached down to his bulge to
give it casual squeeze...a long...casual...squeeze. I sat up and definitely
took notice. "What's he doin?" I thought. He sat up, looked right in my
direction, stood up and walked to the back of the garage and seemed to just
stand there in the dark shadows. "What the fuck?" I wondered. I didn't
think he could see me, but I was wrong.

He just stood there with a wide stance, and his arms crossed for the
longest time. I was fascinated, and glued to his every move now. He
uncrossed his arms and reached with his right hand down underneath his belt
to his groin and I could see him massaging it. "Oh man!" I screamed in my
head. I stood up and stood to the side of my window peeking at him. I could
see him underneath his cap grinning...no leering up at me while he
continued to massage his cock under his pants. He nodded slowly up at
me. "He fucking knows!" I muttered. He grinned as he pulled out his hand
from his cock, and then proceeded to pull apart the lower buttons from the
top of his jeans. He leaned over and went digging into the open fly for
what was inside, and then pulled out the full, rounded pouch of his
jock. It was beautiful. It was moist with work, and I could see the perfect
form of a shovel-shaped flange of his cock head. He stroked it softly with
his thumb and forefinger. When he reached the tip he let go, and gripped
the root of his cock and gave it a solid shake. He looked back up at me,
and pursed his lips giving a soft "woosh" of air. He opened up his fist and
stroked his hand slowly over the front of his full pouch. "HEY JAKE!" he
yelled up to me. "YOU GOT ONE?" he asked. I moved and stood in front of my
window. I mutely nodded to him in the affirmative. "Well, get down here
son, I got something to show ya," he said.

I scrambled to my door, and ran downstairs to the back door. When I opened
it I was faced with the view of him in the back of his garage with his
pouch still sticking out of his fly. His hand was resting next to it, but
his thumb was slowly stoking it. His other hand was running over his hairy
pecs as he grinned at me from ear to ear. All he did was motion for me with
his head to get in there. I looked down the driveway to see if anyone was
on the street. Seeing the coast was clear I scampered over to the man. I
slowed to a crawl when I reached the inside to adjust to the light. There
he was in all his testosterone. He had a heavy five-o-clock shadow. Hell,
he has one an hour after he shaves. His eyes were squinted to the light,
and he just continued to fondle his full jock pouch, gently playing with
it. He gave it a shake and let it go. It was hard. "Fuck, that's nice!" I
breathed to him. The pouch was a full round ball of pure full-grown
mancock. His shaft was curled down around his balls, which were bunched up
together like a couple of conjoined twins. I could even tell his cock was
cut, and his taut head was flanged like a helmet, or shovel. It was a
beauty. He turned to the side and gave me a profile of it. Then he hunched
over and bent his legs at the knees all the while looking down at it, and
then up at me for my reaction. I made no effort to hide my
appreciation. "Nice ain't it? You like the look of a full grown man in a
jock dontcha?" he asked. Whatcha got Jake?" he added. It was my turn. I
followed his lead and opened up the zipper of my khaki's too. Just like
him, I reached inside and pulled out my stretched-out jock pouch. "That's
it, let's just take our time, huh?" he whispered. He then upped the tension
in the dark room by unbuckling his belt and letting them drop to the
floor. He pulled his boot-cased feet out of his pants legs and then stood
there in front of me in nothing but his jockstrap, and boots. But then he
did something amazing. He reached over to the workbench next to him and
took a simple rubber band that was there and proceeded to stretch it out,
make a single twist to double it, and then he wrapped it around his jock
pouch. He reduced his pouch down to nothing but cock. His pecker was
confined to the ribbed, cotton mesh of his pouch by the band, acting like a
cock ring (yes, I know what that is now). "Howzatt?" he asked. Wanna give
it a try? I can put it on ya if ya want?" he rasped. I just nodded yes. He
walked towards me casually picking up another rubber band from the
bench. He got down on his haunches in front of me, with his eyes glued to
my stretched out pouch. "Yeah, I think you'll get a load of this!" he said
as he stretched the band over my cock and balls.

He looked up at me when he completed his task, while slowly massaging my
now-confined cock. "Well, whaddya think son?” I was already
leaking as he gently fluttered his fingers up and down my pouch. "Oh man
slow down!" I gasped. I was already oozing, and he could tell. "Nice jock
Jake." He said as he then leaned in to breathe on it through his nose. His
mustache fluttering up and down my shaft-covered pouch. "Wo, I gotta slow
down too." He said as he stood up in front of me. Both of us took a step
back to take in the view and back off blowing our nut. He spread his legs
apart and bent his knees pushing out his jock at me...offering it to
me. "Your turn buddy." He suggested. I reached over and took the proffered
beauty. Ever so gently stroking his pouch with my thumb and forefinger I
exclaimed, "Fuuuuckkkkk!" His was obviously bigger than mine, and I
worshipped it with both hands...very gently. Didn't want to bring him over
the edge yet. I pulled my hands away and then started to push my hips out
to him, towards his own pouch. "Yeah, that's it son!" he gasped as he got
my intent, and pushed his out to my raunchy pouch too.  They touched. These
two, full, taut, round pouches touched. Two cocks that were confined by a
cotton mesh, and a rubber band. We both luxuriated in doing the Princeton
rub together. "Oh man have I wanted to do this!" I exclaimed as I watched
both our pouches gyrate up and down against each other. My pecker was
tingling beyond measure as I slowly pushed myself toward his hairy
chest. It felt so warm and hard. "That's it," he said as his arms stretched
around me in a full on hug. We both reveled in our contact. Both of our
hands running up and down each other's back, and I couldn't resist grabbing
his ass and gave it a good squeeze.

I pulled away and got down on my knees in front of this man, not believing
my good fortune. He pulled his arms up in a full-on body-builder pose and
flexed his biceps for me. I unabashedly worshipped this man. Feeling
everything I could reach while he whispered encouragement, and lauded my
efforts. "You got a realllll good touch Jake. `Been wanting to gitchyur
hands on that for awhile, huh?" he asked. "Oh yeah have I!" I told him. I
stood up and we both reached for the other's pouch, and just enjoyed each
other's handiwork. Two pouches being pumped gently by the other, shaking
`em, stroking `em, and gripping `em. He talked real dirty, and I couldn't
get enough of it. This man; the best friend of my father. Christ he could
be my father for that matter. I've known him my entire life, and he's
watched me grow up. "How did you know?" I asked while returning to rubbing
`em together. I've known for years, but you just weren't old enough yet,
and I couldn't help but notice you gawking at me over the years every time
I was around, even right in front of your Dad. I returned to my knees in
front of him, and started nuzzling his sweaty pouch. It tasted
incredible. I made eye contact with him, and ever so slowly started to put
as much as I could in my mouth. He stared at my face slack-jawed. "You
sure? Cuz that's gonna `bout do it for me bud." He said. I just shut my
eyes and continued to suck his jock-covered pecker. Doing it through the
pouch was just so right. I tasted his sweat, and cock through his pouch
just full of his smell.

As I soaked his pouch with my saliva, and mouthed his hard on, he blew his
load right through the mesh. I could immediately taste his juice, and
hummed my pleasure at helping this man get his nut. "Attaboy, you like that
too son?" he breathed. His eyes brimming while he reached down to pull me
to my feet, and replaced me by getting down on his knees in front of me.
This man got down in front of ME! Wow, that blew my mind as he nuzzled my
pouch like I did his. I could already feel myself leaking as his mustached
lips parted to slide it all inside. "OH FUCK!" I panted as I could
immediately feel the warmth and wetness over me. But it was through the
pouch. He's like me! He likes the pouch just as much as I do. So I asked
him. "You like it too don't you? You really get off by jocks too, huh?" I
asked. He pulled off my cock, and grinned, "Fuck yeah bud.  Jockstraps are
just the perfect sex." He paused, "You too?" I nodded enthusiastically as
he returned to soaking my pouch in his mouth. I blew out the back of his
head as he hummed his way up and down my pecker. He nursed on my juice
while it spilled it through my pouch. Both of us breathing our pleasure as
he got to his feet and gave me a bear hug. "You ok kid?" he panted. "I got
a lot more to show ya, if y'want?"

I eventually returned to the house, and saw the note Dad left on the
counter for me to do his wash. So I went upstairs to empty his hamper. As I
walked in his room there on his bed, all alone...was a jockstrap. It was
faced up. The pouch was distended like a ball. Round, and soiled with
grime. But the funny thing was that the pouch was still retaining the shape
of the cock that used to be inside it. Like it was molded. With the root of
the pouch kept taut. Like it would if something was keeping it tight. What
could do that? Then it hit me like a ton. That's funny.... "It's like a
rubber band did that!" I quickly snatched it up, and sniffed it. Dad...it
was full of dad's smell. I stripped down to my socks and put it on. Oh man,
I immediately immersed myself in the feel of the pouch that held my own
father's cock. It was like both of our cocks were in the same place at the
same time. I ran over to the bureau and found a rubber band. I stretched it
out and doubled it once to wrap it around my pouch covered cock. It was
bigger, but man did it look and feel hot. Just knowing that this pouch held
my dad's cock was a rush. I ran over to the mirror and looked at the
reflection of dad's jock on me with a rubber band stretched out to keep the
pouch taut. I curled my shaft down like the imprint in the pouch. I was
hard, but just as I started to shake it, and jerk on the pouch, when who
walks in...Dad.