The moment Harris got home, he began peeling off his clothes. His mother worked an evening shift, so he had the run of the house. After he removed his pants, he remembered to reach into the pocket and remove the jockstrap, which at once began sputtering at him in rage.
"Where am I? What do you think you are doing?" Ryan demanded.
Harris responded by stepping inside the straps and pulling the pouch up to his waist and adjusting it around his rather puny frame. Ryan got another surprise the moment Harris fitted the pouch over his cock and balls. For such a skinny guy, Harris was really packing.
"You think so?" Harris snickered. He had always averted his eyes in the locker room, and didn't really have any way of knowing how his size down there compared with other males at the school. At home, without a father or brothers, he also lacked any comparative possibilities.
Harris cradled the pouch. "Have you washed your hands today?" Ryan could see the grime beneath Harris's fingernails and it grossed him out. If he was going to be stuck on this pothead, he needed to at least teach him some basic hygiene.
"Were you this uptight as a person, or just since you became a jockstrap?" Harris collected the clothes he had shed. He might be a slob, but he had been fussed at by his mom enough times to at least learn the necessity of adding discarded clothing to the hamper for her to run through the wash when she got home.
"It's disgusting!" Ryan said as he began to also suspect Harris wasn't big on daily showers. A rather ripe aroma, which Ryan would have associated more with a big, burly linebacker, arose from Harris's balls and cock.
Harris curled his skinny, 94-pound form on the covers of his bed and picked up one of the consoles to play some games. His piercing black eyes showed an animated twinkle as he felt Ryan the jockstrap squirming just enough around his balls to tickle them with a pleasant sensation.
"Whatever you're doing, keep it up," Harris instructed as he began battling goblins across a gritty urban wasteland.
Ryan would have come back with a sharp quip, but Harris sprung a boner than pressed so tightly against Ryan's fabric pouch body that the former jock found it almost impossible to concentrate.