Date: Wed, 14 Nov 2012 18:31:40 +0000 (UTC)
From: fiveholepunch@comcast.net
Subject: Caught Sniffing Part Five

Caught Sniffing Part Five

This is the last installment of Timmy's recollection of his discovery of
the fragrant garden of sexual indulgence.

I met with Hank many times in the restroom after study hall. He never
pumped another hot load into my underwear like he did that first time, but
I was able to enjoy Hank's semen on many occasions after that. Hank was
aroused by rubbing his thick cock to erection against my thin, rigid member
protruding from my woolen trousers. I became erect almost as soon as I knew
it was time to leave study hall and sometimes before that.  Seeing Hank's
ample prepuce and feeling it tickle my glans excited me to near
orgasm. After Hank rubbed himself into a highly aroused state, he let me
masturbate his uncut cock over the toilet. I loved the feel of his foreskin
in my hand as it slid over his thick knob. When I rolled back Hank's
sheath, I could tell by the aroma what Hank it been doing earlier in the
day. If Hank had been involved playing sport earlier, Hank's masculine
scent rose strongly, causing my testicles to tingle and my hard cock to
throb. Sometimes, I would grasp Hank's ruddy ring and see the dried white
crust of his having leaked pre-come from an earlier unfulfilled arousal. At
other times, I could tell that Hank had come earlier that day. His foreskin
would slowly peel back as it slid over his sticky cockhead. Hank showered
daily, but a few times I rolled back his sheath to see an accumulation of
white smegma. I asked Hank about it and he said it just happens. As my
relationship with Hank developed, not only did I see and smell the
different states of Hank's cock, but I also tasted them.

--------------------

Even though I had several boys' room lessons from Hank about masturbation
and semen, I still thought about sniffing the dirty underwear of other
boys. My surreptitious sorties led to my discovery by the boy whose
underwear was the first I ever sniffed – Roger.

What happened to arouse Roger's suspicions? One evening, I had made my way
over to the seventh grade side of the common restrooms to look for any
forgotten undergarments. I spied a pair on a bench very near the entrance
to the shower anteroom. I had just reached in, grabbing them, when I heard
the door to the seventh grade dorms open behind me. I quickly threw the
briefs back into the dimly lit anteroom and slid in front of the urinal
nearest the entrance to the shower area.

"What are you doing?" came a voice from behind me.

"N-nothing," I answered a little too quickly, "just peeing."

I looked over my shoulder and saw that my interrogator was Roger, the
red-haired seventh grader whose underwear I sniffed near the beginning of
the semester. He looked at me strangely.  Roger went into the anteroom and
picked up the underwear that had landed on the floor.

"Hmm, I could've sworn I left these on the bench with my towel," Roger
exclaimed loudly enough for me to hear.

Was he on to me? Did he suspect anything? Roger went over to the bench and
picked up his towel. I stood facing the urinal pretending to be busy. After
a few moments, sensing a presence behind me, I turned to look. Roger was
standing there, a few feet away, regarding me with an appraising eye.

"Hmm ...," was all he said before turning and slowly walking from the tiled
room.

I didn't know what to make of his reaction. Did he know? I wasn't sure. I
quickly ran back to the sixth grade side to pee. As I made my way back to
my dorm, I was left to wonder what Roger knew.

--------------------

It was a couple of days before I decided to risk looking for soiled briefs
again. I had thought about giving up my secret vice, but its sensual appeal
had too great hold on me; I was drawn like a moth to a flame.

Once again I made my way over to the seventh grade side. I looked into the
barely lit anteroom. I could see a pair briefs on the bench. I went to
them. I picked them up. The stretched pouch had yellow stains on the seams
around the fly. I opened the briefs to see who had left them. They were
Roger's! My heart raced. Should I sniff them? Roger had come back to
retrieve his briefs a few days before, what if he came back now? Should I
risk discovery? I raised the front of his briefs to my nose and
inhaled. The scent of his adolescence sent a heated rush through my body. I
erected immediately and forcefully. I had no choice; I was going to have to
masturbate. I made my way into the first of the darkened shower stalls. I
greedily sniffed Roger's cotton briefs as I rubbed my erection tangled in
my pajama bottoms and underwear. I let out an involuntary moan.

"Unnh..."

I was so excited by the intoxicating youthful odor and the danger of Roger
returning for his dirty underwear, that I knew as soon as I freed my penis
and began a frenzied stroking, that I would come. I reached down for the
waistband of my pajama bottoms. Suddenly, I heard a sound behind me.

"I knew it!" came a loud whisper of certainty.

I let out a loud cry of surprise that reverberated in the tiled stalls.

"Aaghh!"

I turned and saw someone step forward from the dark recesses of the
showers. It was Roger.

"Quiet! Do you want to wake everybody up?" the seventh grader admonished.

I was too scared to say anything intelligible.

"Uh... Uh... I..."

"I thought you were up to something."

"I... I... I wasn't doing anything."

"Oh no? Then what are you doing here with my underwear in your hand?"

I was horrified at being caught. I felt myself choke up. I was going to
start to bawl.

"I... I didn't mean anything," I spluttered, trying not to sob.

Roger stepped closer. He took his briefs from my hand.

"You were smelling my underwear. You were getting ready to jerk your cock,
weren't you?"

I started to cry.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed, "I won't... I won't do it again. I promise."

It was then that we both heard the door to the boy's lavatory open. I
opened my mouth to gasp. Roger grabbed me and covered my mouth with his
hand, the one with his briefs in them.  He pulled me into one of the
darkest areas of the shower stalls. We could hear the voices of a couple
boys near the sinks at the front of the lavatory.

"I thought I heard a scream ... Me, too ... I thought it was in here..."

The voices could be heard near the anteroom. Roger grasped me from behind
in the echoing shower stall. He pressed his soiled briefs that he held in
his left hand more tightly to my face to keep me from making a noise that
might be heard by the boys in the toilet area. His right arm gripped me
around the waist. I could feel Roger's aroused state through the seat of my
pajama bottoms.

"I don't see anything ... maybe it was over on the sixth grade side..."

We waited, frozen, listening in a state of suspense for the footsteps that
would mean our discovery in the darkened shower stall. We could hear the
other boys talking, but their voices moved no closer; it looked as if we
were going to escape. I felt Roger slide his right hand down until it
contacted my erection. I moaned, the sound muffled by the aromatic cotton
covering my nose and mouth.  Roger quietly shushed me, his lips brushing my
right ear. The seventh grader reached down and took hold of my cotton-clad
boner. I tried not to groan. My hips writhed involuntarily and I could feel
my buttocks brush across Roger's hardened cock.

Roger took his right hand from my crotch and started sliding the elastic
waist of my pajamas and underwear down with his thumb, exposing my
bottom. My red-headed ravisher grasped the naked flesh of my exposed right
cheek firmly; his fingers intruded into my cleft and grazed my most
intimate orifice. I clenched my teeth and tried to stifle a guttural moan
of sheer ecstasy. Roger tugged at his own pajama bottoms, first with his
right hand and then, switching his grip on his dirty briefs, with his
left. Roger succeeded in freeing his thick phallus. He tilted it downward
with his left hand and slowly slid its full length between my inner
thighs. The hot shaft pressed upward on the wrinkled, taut underside of my
scrotum. The spongy head came to a stop pressed into the cotton pouch of my
soft cotton jockey shorts. Roger let slip a moan of his own. He began to
thrust in a tightly controlled manner, not wanting to lose control while
the other boys were still in the restroom. I didn't think I could contain
my excitement; I thought I might pass out.

Then we both heard the door to the lavatory open and the investigating boys
leave. This unleashed our passion. Roger began thrusting his hips harder
and harder, pounding my naked rear, grunting louder and louder like an
animal. I exhaled forcefully from the ardor of his thrusts and the
escalating climb of my own lust. I gasped for breath and inhaled the mixed
odors of Roger's youthful crotch that were pressed firmly to my face.

"Unh... Unh...," Roger huffed in my ear.

"I'm... I'm... I'm going to fucking come!"

I could feel Roger's burning hot shaft stiffen and swell between my legs.

"Unngggh!  Unngggh!  Unngggh!"

With every breathy grunt of his climax Roger pumped creamy jizz into the
soft pouch of my white cotton briefs. I could feel the curved coronal ridge
of his cockhead slide more freely under my constricted scrotum as his
spurted semen spread.  I lost it; moaning uncontrollably in the throes of
my climax into the soiled fabric pressed to my lips, my stiffened thighs
clenched Roger's intrusive shaft.

"Mmph... Mmmph... Ggmph... Mmmph..."

Roger's hand clasping his briefs dropped from my mouth allowing me to catch
my breath.  We both alternately gasped and moaned with satisfaction
recovering from our orgasms.

"Uhhn... Ahh... Mmmf... Ohh..."

"Wow," was all Roger said after we both came back to earth.

Roger stepped back, his softening cock sliding from the confines of my
underwear, leaving my inner thighs wetly smeared.  I staggered forward,
weak-kneed, resting my hands on the cool tile of the shower stall.  I
turned to watch in the darkness as Roger tucked his glistening, near six
inch circumcised penis back into his pajamas.  Roger saw me looking and
smiled.  I was embarrassed to be caught gazing so openly at the older boy's
large member.  Roger stepped forward and reached around behind me; I could
feel his body, hot and sweaty, lean against mine.  He used his briefs to
wipe his dripping load from between my legs.  I shuddered as his hand
spread my cheeks and his briefs were forced firmly against my quivering
anus.  I let out an involuntary gasp.

"Oh!"

Roger smiled again.  He reached down and pulled my underwear and pajama
bottoms up.  I could feel the creamy wetness squish against my tight
scrotum and a small amount of Roger's discharge leaked and dripped down my
inner thigh.  Roger wiped the few tears from my cheeks.

"I'll go look and make sure the coast is clear," Roger whispered.

"Okay," I replied meekly.

Roger went to the edge of the showers and looked around the corner.

"There's no one around, c'mon."

I left the shadow of the shower stall and entered the anteroom.

"You can use my towel on the bench to cover up if you need to," Roger
volunteered.

"Okay."

I was worried about getting back to my dorm undiscovered. I could feel
Roger's semen soaking through the crotch of my pajama bottoms.

"Do you want to keep these?" Roger asked, holding up his limp jockey
shorts.

"Umm..."

"I'll tell you what, I'll keep them for you and we can talk tomorrow after
lunch, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Timmy."

"Okay."

I was able to make my way back to my dorm without anyone noticing my sodden
state. Not only could I feel the sticky wetness with every step, but I
could clearly smell the pungent, heavy odor of Roger's fresh semen that
arose from between my legs. It's a good thing that I had Roger's towel to
hold in front of me because the stimulating combination of my penis and
scrotum slipping and sliding back and forth in my jockey shorts and the
heady olfactory scent of spunk caused me to become firmly erect yet
again. Once I was safely under the covers of my bed, I reached into my
cotton briefs to rub Roger's load over my smooth hairless sack. I pulled my
fingers from my pajama bottoms, put them under my nose and inhaled
deeply. I rolled over in bed and rubbed myself quickly to another orgasm
against my mattress, stifling my groans by burying my face deeply in the
folds of my pillow.

When I awoke the next morning, I felt my erection pressing into the crinkly
dried crust of my cotton briefs. I did see Roger later that day and he did
have a gift for me. Roger and I met secretly many times after that in the
shower stalls. For a while we reenacted our first encounter; Roger making
me smell his soiled briefs while he took me from behind.  Roger would shove
his underwear into my mouth to gag my groans in the echoing stall.  If we
were lucky, another boy would come in to use the toilets and the risk of
discovery increased our lust.  We progressed to Roger wearing dirty his
underwear and my getting on my knees and smelling his crotch.  Roger would
then lower his briefs and I would suck his large six inch circumcised cock,
taking in as much as I could and swallowing his copious ejaculation.  I
also ended up sucking Hank in the study hall boy's rest area once or twice
a week.  I liked sucking Hank the best because of the taste of his uncut
cock; his abundant foreskin was fun to peel back with my tongue.  On the
other hand Roger's sizable penis felt great between my legs.  These
adventures made for a very satisfying first semester at boarding school.


Dear Reader,

   I think we will leave Timmy here.  He has progressed from the ignition
of his youthful lust sparked with the first afflative whiffs, so to speak,
to stoking the rising flames of burning desire with branches off the tree
of friendship. He has passed the threshold of innocence and we shouldn't
wish to spoil our impression of this by thinking of his being ravished by
both Roger and Hank simultaneously in the orgiastic spring of his sixth
grade year that is still to come. Laved rectums, dilative coincidental
penetration, the exhaustion of every goatish possibility of a boy's
boarding institution holds little interest for us in comparison to Timmy's
initial stirrings, does it not?  So appropriately ends our glimpse of this
boy on the very rim of the crater created by the volcano of burgeoning
desire.

Your author,

   Five Hole Punch



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