Poolside Brief Boys
				by Briefer

[I'm trying to remember this incident without shooting my load.]

I had just moved into an apartment building in the gay part of town.  It
was notorious for its rooftop swimming pool.  I was attending the local
junior college and was always horny when I come home from school, having
spent the day staring at the bulging baskets of my male classmates and
doing an inventory of the underwear elastic that protruded from under the
waistbands of their faded, painted-on jeans.

I was home from school and horny as usual.  I peeled off my favorite Levis
and replaced them with a pair of cutoffs that I couldn't keep my hands
off of and that I hoped the guys I'd meet at my new abode couldn't
either.  They were cut so short that my snow-white cotton jockeypouch
protruded blatantly from both leg openings.

As I walked up the stairs to the roof, my denim shorts and the pouch of my
briefs moved against each other.  It felt so damned good!  The movement of
my hips caused my shorts to drop slightly to reveal - for anyone who might
care to know - the telltale waistband of my 2(x)ist underpants.

The afternoon sun was blazing, a breeze was blowing and my cock jerked as I
gazed across the pool at too young studs lying on their backs in the sun.
The bathing suits they wore were like second skins, clinging to every
detail of their bodies.  Their lounge chairs were extended and were placed
head-to-head so that the boys could talk to each other.

Both heads turned in my direction as the door closed behind me.  My face
was flushed with embarrassment as two sets of eyes zeroed in on my heaving
denim basket and protruding pouch.  I quickly found a chaise beside the
pool opposite the two studs and flopped down on my belly.

Though I had turned my head away from the pool, I could hear murmuring and
faint laughter.  Then the scraping of a chair, then sploshing.  My head
turned in time for me to see one of the boys standing a the shallow end of
he pool at the top of the stepdown, about ankle deep.

My buttocks pressed together and ground my meat into the chair.  I
recognized this guy.  He was a classmate!  He was a freshman, boyfaced,
blond, tanned, lithe swimmer's build and . . . I stifled a gasp.  Those
weren't swim trunks he was wearing.  They weren't even Speedos.  They
were cut like Speedos, low rise, no fly.  But I knew boy briefs well enough
to know cock and balls encased in cotton from meat wrapped in nylon.

The brief front was double paneled - two layers of cotton jersey were
stretched over that mound of male flesh.  And that male flesh was trying to
escape is cotton wrapper just like my jockeybriefs were trying to escape my
cutoffs.

This kid looked my way.  There was a subtle hint of recognition in his eyes
that made me relax a bit.  He didn't seem to mind exposing the lewd
display of a quivering erection through jam-packed jockeyshorts.  The other
guy had rolled over on his stomach and was pushing his hips into his lounge
chair.  Looking at the spectacle; he had a gleeful smile on his face.

The boy in the pool walked down a step.  I love the way a good pair of
briefs hold a guy's meat up front, like a jockstrap, so that whenever he
takes a step his basket moves from side to side.  This happened when the
boy stepped down into the water.

The sun glittered from the ripples that spread from his legs as they cut
through the surface.  His eyes looked down at his bulging briefs.  I could
barely make out a little label on the cotton that stretched over his left
loin.  By God, they were Fruit of the Looms!  Some kind of sport briefs, I
thought.  Gotta get me some.  They look so hot.  I'd sure like to jack
off in them.

By the time he was thigh deep, this jockey boy's cock was fully extended
up and across his groin, flexing outward, looking like it would pierce the
sheer fabric covering the cockhead.  In fact, those briefs weren't
white, but flesh-colored, as thinly stretched as they were.  I was grinding
my crotch against the cushion of my lounge chair, feeling my undershorts
rubbing against my cutoffs.  I was glad for those denim shorts, for my cock
was squirting pre-cum and I dreaded leaving a big wet mark - the mark of my
queerness - on the cushion for anyone else to see.

"Mmmmm . . . "  the waterboy moaned.  The water was now just touching the
bottom of his cotton-covered ballpouch.  I knew that feeling.  It was like
being felt off at the same time feeling the cloth covering around your
testicles slowly getting soaked.  Yes, I knew that feeling.  As our eyes
locked, I nodded slightly at the kid to try to indicate our shared passion.

Our eyes dropped to his waist.  I could see his piss slit through his
distented Fruit of the Looms.  Suddenly, it began to glisten.

Aaaaaah . . . having the water lap at his super sensitive scrotum,
amplified by the feel of its filmy cotton covering, caused his throbbing
cock to begin oozing.  The glimmer became a shiny spot in the sun that
became a sparkling trickle as I and the two other boys watched a steady
stream of jism.

That was enough for the other kid.  He raised himself from the lounge
chair, his own jockeyhorts pushing out obscenely from between his legs.
They were soaked with boyjuice, obviously from being masturbated by the
movement of the hips they were painted over.

Like his buddy, this dude sported a hardon that extended up and across his
loins.  He was also wearing underpants!  I couldn't believe my luck.  Or
was this for real?  Had I fallen asleep on the couch, and was I having a
super wet dream?

I turned onto my side, facing both boys.  I also recognized the kid
standing opposite me, openly jacking himself off through his white cK hip
briefs, as a classmate, also a freshman.  Could this be true?  Would the
first openly gay contact I make be with another brief freak like me?  And
not just one but two?

I had to find out.  I reached between my legs and pulled down the zipper of
my cutoffs.  I popped the waist button and opened the flaps to expose the
top of my 2(x)ists.

The two others gazed openly at my midsection.  The boy in the water dropped
his jaw.  "Wow," he sighed.  The other boy's eyes were popping at the
sight.  I wanted to go into the water.  I wanted to feel my briefs getting
wet.  I wanted to feel another guy's jockey bulge in my hand.  I felt
myself losing control.  I had to have jockey sex!

I raised myself up and swiveled to a sitting position, facing the poolboys.
I decided the boy standing opposite me beside the pool wanted to see a show
while he jacked off through his Calvins.  I stood up.  My cotton pouch
pushed my swollen nuts out so that when I turned, my profile was
outrageously lewd.  MY briefs were soaked transparent from the globs of
semen that I my pushing and squirming had squeezed from my sex glands.

The boy in the pool was my goal.  His hand swirled in the water and moved
to his brief-clad balls.  He was panting and quivering with every little
wave of water he splashed against his underpants.  It was also obvious that
his cock was about to explode.  "Hurry," he croaked, as I walked around to
the steps, grabbing my pouch and squeezing it, milking more juice out of my
erection to soak into and run down the front of my cumbriefs.

[I'm wearing those briefs right now and jacking myself off as I recount
that wonderful scene.  I hope I can finish before I shoot!]

I stepped into the water.  Just the wet feeling on my feet caused my prick
to heave inside its snug basket.  I gasped aloud.  Aarrrgh .  . .

"Yeah, yeah, Guy," the kid standing beside the pool cried, "keep it up.
Wow, you're too hot!"  He was masturbating himself furiously, rubbing
his brief-clad midsection all over, then grabbing his throbbing rod or
massaging his ballpouch.

The kid in the pool turned just as I stepped down and so that my crotch was
level with his face.  He was eighteen years old, but looked like he was
fourteen.  The expression he wore was of unbridled lust, his eyes were
transfixed on my underwear.  "Ggggggaaaaaahhhhh . . .  " a gurgling, animal
sound came up from his throat.  "I'm so fuckin queer for those beautiful
briefs.  I want them . . . I gotta . . . I . . . "

He lunged forward.  He let out a cry as the forward movement of his body
toward my crotch caused a small wave of water to wash over his jockeyfront.
I knew that feeling too, when water suddenly washed over my underpants and
mades them wet for the first time.  That feeling . . .

His mouth opened and my hips thrust forward to meet it and I let out a
strangled groan, not caring who heard me or saw my ecstatic response to an
underpants blowjob.

I stepped down again.  The feeling of my brief bulge in a warm wet mouth
turned my hand into a mouth that wanted to taste Fruit of the Looms.  My
pouch ripped out of his mouth, my hand reached down and clamped over my
beautiful young classmates bulging briefs.  Groping underpants, another
guy's underpants, bulging briefs, jam-packed jockeyshorts, was what I
had been dreaming about since my first briefs orgasm when I was eleven.
Every wet dream had ended with my grabbing another boy's jockey briefs
and me blasting a load in mine without touching myself.

And this was what was happening now.  Feeling another boy off through his
underpants was making me shoot my load.

"Look, Todd!"  the boy above us exclaimed.  "He's juicing his jock!"  As
I watched the kid explode in his Calvins, wave after wave of cream gushing
between the fingers of his pumping fist.

Suddenly, my own hand was coated with hot sperm.  My sexmate was emptying
himself into his Calvins.

The itch that started at the root of my erection had spread through my
groin, and my body was wracked with the most powerful orgasm I had ever
experienced.  Todd harvested a handful of glistening goo as it ran down the
front of my heaving bulge.  He then greedily slurped it up and gulped it
down.

By the time I felt water tickling the bottom of my cotton ballpouch,
causing my orgasm to continue endlessly, I also had a handful of jism, and
mashed it onto my face and shoved it into my mouth.  Instinctively, Todd
and I mouthed together, or hands pushing water onto each other's stuffed
jockeyfronts, soaking the material, queering off from the feeling of
underpants getting soaked.

Our loud screams were muffled as our mouths met, and we began tonguing and
tasting and savoring each other's loads.

"Goddamn, Goddamn," the kid above us cried, "Do it!  Do it! I'm cumming,
I'm cummiiin . . . "

Out of the corner of my eye and through a haze of ecstasy, I could see the
kid's body wildly bucking and flailing, his face contorted with
uninhibited jockeylust.

My eyes turned back to meet Todd's, looking openly into them while we
climaxed.  "Mmph . . .  mmmmmph."  Our bodies quivered and our orgasms
continued with every glob of swallowed semen and every squeeze of another
boy's hand on our heaving baskets.

Gasping for air, Todd and I pulled our face apart and looked down.  Our
hands were underwater between our legs and beneath our crotches, as if our
orgasms were one, we knew what to do.  With our thumbs we pressed up
against the bottoms of our briefs and pressed forward along the lengths of
our cockstems.  This pushed one final glob of jism out of our submerged
briefs.

As we watched, a milky white cloud spread from the fronts of our now
submerged brief fronts under the crystal clear water, filaments of sex
juice floating slowly around us, testifying to the power of the sexual urge
that began with the feel of tight white cotton briefs against our skin and
the look of white cotton briefs stretched over male cock and balls and
ended with an explosive wet briefs orgasm with another guy.

[NOW I'M CUMMING!]


Copyright 1998 Briefer.  All Rights Reserved.