Date: Wed, 23 Jun 2021 17:21:26 +0200 From: Future Cole Subject: Uncle Chuck's Underwear Drawer (Part 21) Well...we're back! I never thought the story would continue but thanks to your kind messages and a bit of inspiration, the story is continuing. Hope you enjoy! This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Please do not read if you are under the legal age in your country or region. And please donate to Nifty if at all possible! --- So, I just wanted to jump on here to introduce myself. I'm the man you otherwise know as Uncle Chuck. Yes, I will admit on the record that I have a passion for white briefs. As you may already know, it's been going on since I was young and I'd pilfer my dad's old-school Hanes from the laundry hamper. And in the past two years or so, it escalated big time when I found my nephew's load in a pair of my Calvins...which led to some pretty fun time between my brother, his son, and me. Then, last year, they moved in with me and my son Joey and things went farther than I ever could have imagined. Since then, though, things kind of went back to normal. Our plan for frequent family fun kind of never worked out. Not long after, Rich and Ryan went back to their respective homes and Joey went back to college. So, I've been home in this big old house, spending a lot of time just hanging out and browsing the internet. It was actually kind of just a regular day around the house. I woke up, blew off some steam in the gym, took a shower, and dried off. Naked, I walked over to my dresser and opened the top drawer. It's always exciting for me. Neatly folded in small piles were all of my tighty whities--yes, as Ryan already revealed to the world, primarily Jockeys and Calvin Kleins. Some days I would peek into the back corner, see an old pair of my brother's or Ryan's that I'd saved for a particularly horny day. After surveying my underwear drawer just longer than normal, I grabbed a pair of Jockeys and slipped them on. They were tight as they slid up my legs, the elastic and the cotton stretching to my proportions. At the waist, I let go and then reached into the front, arranging myself to fill out the bottom part of the upside-down Y. I walked back to the bathroom and looked at myself in the floor-length mirror. I'd been working out a lot more and liked what I saw. Still a bit of paunch, but nothing like it once was. My bulge looked sizable and, from what I could see behind, my ass had firmed up a bit and filled out the white cotton perfectly. I headed downstairs and had some breakfast, sitting down at the table. It was a beautiful day out and I was trying to decide whether I should go for a swim or read on the deck when I started to feel a familiar sensation. The urge to get off. Honestly, it happened pretty often. You can't be a man into white briefs and sit around in just white briefs for very long before you start to feel a little bit hot and heavy. I fondled myself through the cotton, my cock already halfway chubbed. Some days I'd just let it linger all morning before finally going and grabbing a pair of Rich's stolen briefs to sniff and drive me over the edge. Others, I'd reach for my trusty laptop. I opened it up and started going to my usual sites. Pretty quickly, I was at full attention, with my cock perfectly pushing out the lower panel of the fly. When I looked down, I could see just the shaft, veiny as ever. This was when I started to browse a bit deeper. I searched for new videos that appealed to my tastes--nothing. I pulled up some of my favorites--they just weren't hitting right. So, I tried searching around. I typed in some searches like "white briefs" and then "dad's briefs" and then "tighty whities"...none of the results really were getting to me. It was then that I typed in "dad's tighty whities." The first result was a forum post where people were discussing their father's underwear, which was enough to prompt me to fish myself out and start stroking. The stories remind me of my youth and trying to get assigned laundry duty as my weekly chore. My cock felt great in my hand, responding to each and every stroke. I went back to the search results and scrolled through. There, on the bottom of the first results page. "My jaw nearly dropped as he slipped on Dad's tighty whities, pulling them up slowly until the black and gold waistband slipped over his crack," read the preview. So, first, the idea of someone watching someone else put on their father's underwear drove me wild. Then, the mention of the black and gold waistband brought to mind my brother's undies. So I clicked the link. It was the 14th part of a story titled "Uncle Chuck's Underwear Drawer" and it was just plain text, which almost had me browse away. How would I be able to get off to just the written word? I wanted something visual. I don't know what kept me going, but I started reading. It started out with the main character having jerked off with his cousin and a mention of raiding laundry. Damn, this is hot, I thought, tugging at myself with a bit more energy now. I kept scrolling as I read. The main character comes downstairs and his dad and uncle are at the kitchen table having breakfast. Then the dialogue begins and I start to feel like I've read the story before. It isn't until the main character asks his dad and uncle about their workouts and Uncle Chuck replied, "Yeah, it's always good to get down there and blow off some steam," that my heart sank. Those are my words. Before reading another sentence, I went back and searched "Uncle Chuck's Underwear Drawer" and was brought to a directory that revealed the story had 20 parts. I went to the first part and began reading. Big old house? Check. Completely redone on his own? Check. About an hour away from where his older brother's son lives? Check. Even as the main character goes into the house and up the stairs, it's perfectly describing the layout of my home. And then he gets to the dresser and finds piles and piles of Jockeys...and some Calvins...and a lone pair of Staffords. Holy fucking shit. There was no doubt in my mind--Uncle Chuck was me and Ryan had gone online and told all. My cock was still in my hand it wasn't until I looked down that I realized it was now painfully hard and I was leaking so much precum that it was pooling in the top of my fist. Having my secrets exposed was apparently turned me on more than my relatives' underwear. Major spoiler alerts are ahead, so if you haven't read Ryan's first twenty(!) parts, I'd recommend you take the time to do so. If you're anything like me, it'll probably be an easy read and you'll probably have a sore dick by the end of it all. I began to skim through each section, following along as my brief thief nephew Ryan told the world about when I brought him to his dad's place for the sole purpose of going through his laundry hamper. And when he and his dad came up to my house and things progressed beyond just smelling each others' shorts. I skipped on to the end. The last chapter where Joey begged for me to cross that most intimate line with him. I read, from Ryan's perspective, what it was like to watch my cock enter my own son's hole. I moaned, stroking as I read it, the memories flooding back to me. And, just as I reached the point of no return in the story, I thrust hard into my fist, imagining it was Joey's hole again. My cock felt like it would stop erupt, my splooge shooting over and over, the load landing all over the front of my fresh, clean Jockey briefs. It took me a minute to come down from the orgasm, slowly releasing my cock from my grasp. I wiped whatever remained of my load into the white cotton, figuring these would end up being my cumrag for the week. I then picked up my phone and called my nephew.