
Every week, in between sweaty workouts, they would exchange
jockstraps with one another so that each jockstrap got soaked with
both boy's juices. After about a month or so of exchanging, when
each jock had been worn like a second skin by both Chris and Brad,
the two boys would meet for a very hot night of teenaged male to
teenaged male jock sex. They would start by stripping down to
their jockstraps, then wrestling. The sweat soon began to flow,
scenting the air with the heady smell of stale sweat and dried cum,
now moistened by the two studs' sexual exertions. Following first
one boy's cumshot, and then the other boy's cumshot, the two boys
stripped naked and wiped each other down with their jockstraps
until both pairs were well saturated with cum and sweat. Then,
they would slip each other's damp, sticky jockstraps over their
heads so that the pouch clung to their cute flushed faces. Their
senses were flooded with the delicious scent and taste of countless
workouts and jerk-off sessions. Nothing in the world smelled so
good to them. Nothing in the world turned them on so much. It
seemed that cum and sweat were woven directly into the moist
jockstraps Chris and Brad wore. After inhaling and tasting the
succulent jockstraps that clung so deliciously to their faces,
Chris and Brad proceeded to sixty-nine -- without removing the
sweat-and-cum-soaked jock-straps! Brad's thick, cut prick was a
good seven inches long and sprouted proudly erect from a dense crop
of dark red cock hair, cock hair that was often matted with sweat
and cum. Each of his pecan-sized balls throbbed hotly as they
churned out gallons of the sweet creamy cum Chris thirsted so
desperately for. Brad's balls were his pride and joy. They hung
so low that he could make a fist around the loose skin of his
ballsac; the base of his large pounding fuckpole on one side and
his tasty balls hanging below his fist on the other side.
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