"I always thought you were a closet case," Allan says with a smirk as
I collapse in a heap. "Guess, I was right. You'll hang in my closet
when you're not hugging my ass-ets! Haha!" he laughed. Then he leaned
forward and scooped me up. Everything was dark for me until he picked
me up. Then I could see up into a large opening above, and down two
shafts on either side. It took me a couple moments to realize my
perspective was from inside the crotch of Allan's new shorts.
He let me have a peak outside and over the waistband and into the
mirror. I was now a skin hugging pair of jammers or as Allan
preferred to call them "swim shorts." I could see my eyes and face
looking out of the waistband. I figured the pink, red, blue and white
veiny pattern was just me turned inside out and compressed into a
living pair of spandex jammers. It was surreal. I screamed, but it
sounded more like a faint rustling as Allan put his feet through each
of leg holes, and then pulled me up in one swift movement. My face
literally molded to his cock and balls. The smell, the taste, the feel
- it was all impossible, but it was real. Allan chatted as he
gathered up his gear. He was headed over to the Athletic Center Pool
to do some laps and pick up guys. When I tried to talk, all I did was
stimulate his cock and balls making him hard.
The water was cold and made me cling even tighter to Allan - if that
were possible. I thought I'd drown, but quickly realized that
clothing doesn't need to breathe. The constant swimming of laps
eventually helped me calm down. It was soothing swishing back and
forth in the cool blue water. Allan was doing all the work, I was just
along for the ride.