Horst had always felt overshadowed, but no more, by the team captain Ryan Standish and his quarterback good looks. The linebacker felt the fresh-from-the-dryer jockstrap hug his junk with a toasty warmth as he reflected that, at long last, he could show up Ryan Standish in every way that mattered.
“Jezus H. Crackers,” Horst said as he adjusted himself. “Ryan, you’re the best fitting jock strap I've ever worn.”
Ryan managed to wiggle his cotton pouch ever so slightly, but the snugness of his fit around Horst’s sizable endowment prevented much range of motion.
Horst squeezed the pouch of the jockstrap and, in the process, his own cock, pressing the flesh into the interior of the cotton lining.
“Uggh, stop that, Horst,” Ryan complained. “It’s gay.”
Horst had a loud chuckle at the expense of his former friend, once a 200 pound, muscle-bound jock now squeezed down into the confines of a jockstrap weighing about four ounces.
“We’re both guys,” Horst said. “Well, I’m still a guy and you’re a jockstrap”
“Horst, please, you’ve got to get that Vinnie guy to change me…” Before he could finish communicating, Horst’s hand squeeze around the pouch again.
“Ooohh…” Ryan the jockstrap moaned as he felt his cotton body writhe.
“Now who is acting gay?” Horst chided the jockstrap.
Before Ryan could respond, the first of his former teammates arrived for the party now being hosted by Horst. Horst, clad only in his jockstrap, opened the door to welcome...