Rod is practicing blocking the rushers. His job is to protect Chad's lily white ass - even if the quarterback isn't on the field today. He is angry that Chad blew off practice, but derives some pleasure at the thought that Chad might really be his jockstrap. That lily assed bitchboy is so full of himself, Rod thinks, recalling "accidentally slapping Chad in the face with his dick. He did it so well that Chaddy actually licked his dick. Chad recalled the incident. Damn, Rod's cock was hard. It had felt like the time the hose attached to a Water Wiggle that had hit him as a kid.
"Water Wiggle? What's that?" Rod muttered to himself. The image of the orange plastic thing with a face painted on it attached to a garden hose formed in his head. He felt a garden hose slap his cheek, and realized it was his own cock slapping his cheek - no, Chad's cheek. He shook his head. That rusher must've hit him harder than he thought, as he pushed himself up from the ground. Chad tried desperately not to think. Rod didn't seem to have much trouble not thinking. He blinked. He must be really sweating today, he smelled like it did when he sniffed his jockstrap. Damn, Chad knew Rod was smelling what Chad was smelling. He tried holding his breath. The scent seemed to pass. An evening breeze smelling of mown grass had picked up. Rod shook his head clear and resumed his place on the line for another scrimmage. The tackle dummy behind him played the role of Chad.
Chad managed to be a dumb jock for the rest of practice, and he thought Rod had forgotten about him until he heard Rod's mind sounding out Chad's locker combo. At first Chad feared that Rod was reading his mind again, but he realized that Rod was remembering stealing a glance at Chad's lock as Chad opened it. Chad kept his silence and thoughts to himself as Rod burgled his locker.
He lifted out Chad's large size jockstrap, and set it on the bench where he had found the jockstrap which he was now wearing. Then he stripped down to just his jockstrap and wrapped his XL towel around his waist, closed his locker and headed to the sauna.
Chad was horrified, but strangely relieved. Without the practice shorts pressing him tightly against Rod, he felt more relaxed. Rod's sweaty balls were sweatier, and then the heat dried them thoroughly. Chad listened to the banter that he usually participated in, and refrained from commenting to himself lest Rod hear. Rod started to sweat again. The others finally left leaving Rod alone. He peeled back his towel, and started to massage his bulge.
Chad managed not to scream, no, as he realized Rod was going to jack off. Rod pulled out Chad's jockstrap. He hadn't left it on the bench.
"Lily-assed white boy!" he said with a grin as he pressed Chad's jockstrap pouch up against his face and inhaled. Chad didn't mind, as much as he should have, because he currently had Rod's junk smushed up inside him. It seemed fair that Rod was getting a bit of Chad's scent too. Rod's images of naked Chad sprawled out on the locker room bench as he begged to feel Rod's manhood deep inside him. It was very realistic from Chad's perspective, as Rod's real manhood was really inside him as it grew to its full length. Chad was sure his straps would rip, as the pouch pulls away from Rod's body as his cock hardens.