Tad stomped down the stairs into the dorm's basement laundry room. He
carried his plastic basket of dirty clothes over to the counter and
set it down with a thud. Bryce was sitting on the counter next to
where Tad set his basket reading a text book. He was waiting for his
own dirty laundry to complete its cycle so he could put it in the
dryer.
"Forgot my detergent," Tad said slapping his forehead, and turning
away.
"Oh, you can use mine," Bryce said looking up from his book. He
glanced down at the full basket and asked, "I didn't think you usually
did laundry on Saturdays, run out of clothes?"
"Huh? No, I gotta use my own detergent - it's hypoallergenic. And
yeah, I ran out of clean jockstraps. Used to have seven, but some
joker stole one, so I have to do laundry every 6 days."
"Couldn't you just rinse it out overnight? I mean it's only one
jockstrap."
"I'm a man of routine. I do laundry when all my jockstraps are dirty.
Now watch my stuff, while I get my soap," Tad ordered.
The big jock stalked out of the laundry room. Bryce glanced over at
the pile of dirty laundry in the basket. There was a crumpled sweat-
stained jockstrap lying right on top.
"Why would anyone steal Tad's jockstrap?" he said shaking his head.
Bryce looked back down into his book. But every few seconds he would
look up and glance over at the basket. He looked around the empty
laundry room, and then again at the basket. He cautiously reached over
and picked up Tad's jockstrap. It seemed like any other jockstrap. He
tossed the light garment back and forth between his hands. He could
see a couple pubic hairs caught in the mesh pouch, and he could smell
Tad's manly odor. He glanced at the doorway again. All was silent
except for his washing machine tumbling. He raised the jockstrap to
his nose and inhaled. He closed his eyes breathing in Tad's manly
scent. He didn't hear Tad re-enter the room.
"You really like sniffing my second hand odor, don't you?" Tad's voice
boomed from inches in front of Bryce.
He opened his eyes. The only thing between his face and Tad's was
Tad's jockstrap.
"I bet you stole my other jock," Tad accused.
"No. Honest. This is the first time I've ever touched or sniffed your
jockstrap. After what you said, I got curious, I thought why would
anyone steal your jockstrap. So I decided to uh pick it up, and uh-"
"Sniff it. You want to sniff my basket?" Tad asked.
His fingers deftly stretched the elastic on his nylon basketball
shorts, and let them drop to his ankles. Then his powerful arms
grabbed Bryce and hefted him off the counter. The next thing Bryce
knew he was on his knees with his nose buried in Tad's scrotum. Tad's
limp cock rested on Bryce's nose and forehead, and the head slumped
over into Bryce's unruly dark hair.
"Now sniff it. No second hand crotch for you anymore," Tad said.
Bryce found himself drawn in by Tad's intoxicating natural odor. Or
maybe it was supernatural. Bryce's hands reached around gripping
Tad's butt cheeks, and then he raised his legs up and wrapped them
around Tad's thighs. He had to get closer. He felt Tad's cock stiffen
and pushing down on his head. Strangely, Bryce's head gave way like it
was sponge. Bryce's neck tipped back and his mouth hung open. He felt
his clothing pass through his body and fall to the laundry room floor.
Tad adjusted his new jockstrap and pulled up his basketball shorts. A
moment later, Bryce's roommate Grant stuck his head into the laundry
room.
He shouted, "You seen Bryce? He's supposed to be doing laundry."
"I'm sure he's around here somewhere," Tad said adjusting his crotch.
Bryce suddenly was aware of what had happened to him. He tried to
scream.
"Uh, okay, well, tell him he's got a phone call," Grant said.
"Why don't you just take a message," said Tad.
Bryce screamed mentally.