After a few furtive gropes and tugs, Richard chuckled. "Guess I better wait until I have a little more privacy."
He chuckled again, thinking of Minnie catching him jerking his "dickie," but then pulled up his pants, unknowingly trapping jockstrap Ryan in a warm darkness.
A darkness of isolation but not sensory deprivation. He no longer seemed able to establish a sort of voodoo-ish communication with his wearer, but he certainly picked up plenty of details. Even without the benefit of an olfactory system, he discerned Richard's unique musky scent. Not unpleasant, per se, but after a hard shift of lifting heavy crates and boxes, he had begun to work up a sweat.
Even as he exited the thrift shop and walked to his car, Richard's excited state kept his cock pushing against Ryan's cottony form. The extent to which the semi-hard cock pressed into the pouch of Ryan's new body have him an accurate idea of what he'd be cradling in his new form. His body's straps were pulled taut by Richard's athletic butt and hips.
He even tasted something... a salty-sweet treat of an accidental release of pre-cum that barely moistened the inside of the filled pouch of Ryan's jockstrap form. It tasted like nectar for the transformed quarterback, despite the lack of lips or tongue.
By the time Richard got home to his small apartment near the college campus, a distracted Ryan had managed to turn himself on. His condition was fully exacerbated by having Richard's cock remain fully at half-mast for the drive, constantly rubbing against Ryan's fabric form. The leak of pre-cum had only whetted the jockstrap's appetite. He wanted a full meal.
"Feed me," Ryan moaned and writhed, his cotton form smoothly caressing Richard's cock.