Sniffing underwear

[macc23]

i love chris evans, would love to see.

 

[GinoLoqobox]

Re: Sniffing underwear

A few years ago, when I was in my twenties, during a family meal at the house where my sister and her family lived at the time, I went upstairs to the bathroom. As I sat in the toilet, I visualized the laundry basket in the tub and I couldn't help but rummage inside. Above all, I found the briefs that my brother-in-law had taken off a few hours earlier to take a shower. At that time, my brother-in-law, because of his work, traveled frequently and sometimes stayed away from home for several days driving a truck, loading and unloading merchandise, so his personal hygiene in those periods was not very strict. I remember that day was summer, so the bodies were sweating a little more than usual. The briefs were of a fitted model, and a somewhat vulgar design, like those be able to find in street markets. From what I could deduce, they had been used for several consecutive days. The interior, in the front part, was slightly obscured by a yellow stain, product of all the accumulated sediment, drop by drop, after successive urinations. But the best was in the central part, where there were some slight skids, with all the sweat that had been slowly slipping from its crack, not too clean as a result of the conditions of the trip, during hours and hours of driving and physical effort with loading and unloading. I couldn't help but recreate myself by sniffing every millimeter of tissue; The smell was tremendously intense and delicious at the same time, especially in the central part, where the greatest number of pheromones accumulated, which caused me an intense erection. My brother-in-law was not a particularly attractive man, but he was very masculine. The most exciting thing about the situation was that, in his prejudiced mind, he could never have imagined such a scene and, if he had, he would surely have been disgusted. As I delighted in each inhalation, my heart was pounding, and I had a delicious feeling of vertigo. Finally I ended up jerking with the garment placed on my face to facilitate aspiration and I ejaculated right away. Back then, this type of situation caused me some conflicts of conscience, because he was my relative. Today, after a few years, I regret not having taken more advantage of this type of occasion, especially considering that, Years later, he and my sister ended up getting divorced.

Fucking hot!! I can imagine the nice musk he had.

 

[briefguy]

Does anyone here like to trade dirty underwear. Let me know what you like and send me a message here.

 

[sniffer1127]

into cum, sweat, and non deliberate skids. you know the kind that comes from working hard all day and not wiping to much. I am in construction so I can get pretty sweaty and musky. Hit me up if anyone if up for a trade.

 

[dash85]

Not my story Found it on reddit, I came so hard reading it.

I just came across this sub while looking at porn and had to make a throwaway to share my story. I can’t believe this exists and I’m so happy. It’s cool to see other people had experiences kind of like mine. Mine isn’t anywhere near as hot as a lot of stuff on here, and it’s really not that big of a deal, but I hope you like it. Some of this stuff has been burned into my memory for all of time and some stuff I’m just filling in the blanks. I’m not a writer or anything, but I did take creative writing in college so let’s see if it paid off. I’ll try to make this more of story and give as much background as I can without writing a novel (spoiler alert I failed, sorry it’s so long).

My brother is two years older than me (we’re 25 and 27 now). We were always really close, I admired and copied him all through my childhood. Our parents always encouraged him to look after me cause he’s the oldest and our family is pretty conservative. He was definitely my best friend through most of my childhood until about high school when we drifted apart a little. Still friends, just not best friends as our interests changed. We both played a bunch of sports together when we were little but I dropped off and started doing more drama and acting and singing, while he kept playing all through college.

I eventually came out to him cause I wanted to date someone from school and thought he could help me be an alibi to our parents. That crashed and burned cause the guy left the school almost immediately after we went ‘official’ leaving me as the only gay kid in the school as far as I knew. My brother was weird at first, for like a second, like ‘oh shit this is happening’, then was super cool about it. He would give me shit all the time. Whenever gay people would be brought up, like if some actor came out he would be ‘oh do you know him?’ and I would be like no but let me check his gay registry number. It was really cool of him since my parents took it really hard when I came out after college, but him supporting me I think helped them come around eventually.

Our bedrooms shared a connected bathroom called a Jack and Jill so the only way into the bathroom was through one of our rooms. We rarely closed the doors unless one of us were taking a dump or showering and even then, not all the time.

This is one of those things I’ll never forget. I was in the school musical and practice was canceled cause the drama teacher’s kid got rear ended and she had to leave. I got a ride home early, went into my room, and I swear to god as soon as I got in I was frozen. My brother was on his bed which I could clearly see through our bathroom, jerking off with something pressed against his face. I didn’t even look at his member cause I didn’t understand what he was doing. It was like my brain was trying to work out what I was seeing but couldn’t. He heard me immediately and just about jumped out of his skin and 4 feet into the air. Before I could say anything, he screamed, “What the fuck are you doing faggot, close the fucking door!” I’ll never forget that. He sounded more scared than angry but to me it was like a punch in the fucking face. He had never called me that before, and if he did when we were younger, never once I came out.

I was so stunned but slammed the door after a second. I literally sat on my bed and I think I cried, but I don’t really remember. I was so pissed, and hurt and I remember my stomach feeling like I was going to throw up. I have no idea how long I sat there, but eventually decided to punch him, when he came into my room. His face was beet red, and I screamed (possibly cried) for him to get the fuck out. He wouldn’t and just kept saying sorry, that he didn’t mean what he said, that I scared the shit out of him, he would never call me that, blah blah blah.

I guess I calmed down cause eventually he was sitting on my bed with me and we were talking close to normal, but I was still really pissed at him, and he knew that. I think he may have called himself a faggot for calling me that. I could tell he was sorry for it. I forget what we were talking about but I know that I was so curious to know what he was doing, so I asked him. He was like “jerking off dumbass, no one was supposed to be home until later.” I told him I obviously knew that, but what was he doing? It looked like he was trying to give himself chloroform or something? This I’ll never forget either, his face got so red I could feel the heat off of it and he looked like he was gonna puke. I don’t think he would have said anything if he didn’t know how mad and upset I was with him, but he goes “ok but you have to swear to god you won’t tell anyone and never bring it up again?” I was like yeah duh, and he said, “They’re Jess’s panties, she left them here the other day.”

I was super grossed out and didn’t understand and let him know that. He told me Jess, his girlfriend at the time, had come over to swim and left them there. I still didn’t understand so he said something like, “look I find the smell of pussy really hot and her panties are the next best thing to the real thing. I’m sure you would like it too if it had a dick in there instead.” He was so embarrassed, and I laughed at him for it, but we kind of let it go and didn’t talk about it again.

But the thing was after he left my room it totally opened my eyes to a whole new world. It blew my mind. I had never even thought that could be hot, but for the next few weeks that’s all I could think about it. I was obsessed with pictures of guys in underwear, I even jerked off to (several) men’s underwear stores online. It was the birth of my first and most enduring kink. To this day whenever I hook up with a guy I ask him what kind of underwear he’ll be wearing, and my own collection is literally a third of my income.

Anyway, it kind of grew from there. Just looking at underwear was becoming not enough. I wished I had the real thing. The idea that it was the smell that got my brother off just wouldn’t let my hormone addled brain go. A brilliant idea popped in my head, I, being a male, wore male underwear, and as such would make the said underwear smell like male parts. That was a quick failure as I took my underwear off and literally could only smell the detergent my mom used. Another idea popped into my head, maybe since it was underwear I just took off I couldn’t smell anything because I couldn’t smell myself, like those commercials said I was ‘nose blind’. So my third brilliant idea was to go get a dirty pair out of the laundry to see if I could smell myself on those instead. The whole thing was super cringe, I know.

We kept our laundry basket in the bathroom so our mom didn’t have to go into each of our rooms to get our dirty clothes when she washed them, also this way we could just undress right there before we showered. It was apparently not that common of a thing as I blew my Freshmen roommate’s mind when I told him how that would be easier. I went in the bathroom, I have no idea where my brother was or what day of the week it was, or even what time of day it was, all I know is that when I got there looking for my own pair I instead found a pair of his.

I was never attracted to my brother, but I did always know he was hot. Once he got into high school he had that football player body with the huge chest and arms. He didn’t have a six pack or anything, but his stomach was mostly flat. It’s not like he was ever in need of a girlfriend either. The whole school knew he was a huge slut. Though I never did know when or where he was hooking up with them as our parents would never let that shit fly. He also went through puberty much earlier than I did, cause he was older, but also started at a much younger age then me. It’s like we stopped growing body hair at the same time, only since he was growing it for longer he was much hairier. Especially for an 18-year-old. And holy shit could he sweat. If he went running in the cold for more than 5 minutes he’d come home with a drenched shirt type of sweat.

I had a choice to make in that bathroom and probably in retrospect I should have walked away right there, but the raging boner I had sticking out and the racing of my heart beat in my ears didn’t exactly lend itself to rational thinking. I picked the pair up and inhaled and holy shit I was born again. He must have worn that pair to football practice or a game or something because it was so strong. I can’t describe it, that musky ball smell mixed with body wash and what I can only think of as pure testosterone. I blew a load in like less than 2 minutes standing there. Best one I had had up to that point in my life.

I felt really guilty after that and resumed my normal porn and jerking off habits for about a week. Then the feeling came over me again and I was back to underwear models, and soon after that I wanted that smell again. This time though, I would go through with finding my own not my brother’s. That was gross and wrong. And I was successful in finding one of my own first. It worked, or really it helped, but it was no were near as good as his. Not even a little close. So I had another choice to make, and, well, since you’re reading this I think you can guess what I chose. I found another of his and took a hit. It was sublime. Not a strong as the first time but it got the job done just as quick, and started the same cycle of guilt.

When I came back around to wanting that experience again I rationalized that I wasn’t hurting anyone and if no one knew than it was like it never happened. This started a whole new routine. I would make sure I had at least the room and bathroom to myself, better if it was the whole house, and then rummage through our shared hamper for every single pair of his I could find. I would wait until the day before my mom did laundry so there were typically at least 6-7 pairs in there. It was better when baseball started, which he played, as there would be the pairs he wore during the day and then the ones he played in. It was great.

The best though, by far, and I didn’t even know I would like it the first time I found it, was when I would find a pair with a load in it. I didn’t spend too much time considering my brother’s masturbation habits, but what I came to think was that he used his underwear if he couldn’t get toilet paper from our bathroom for one reason or another. Or if he was jerking off and so overcome by horniness he just blew in what he was wearing, like the day I caught him I imagined. I liked that explanation better because it made me feel like he was just as capable of being taken over by his dick as I was. Like if his dick could cause him to make a bad decision then it wasn’t so bad if mine did too. Finding loaded pairs wasn’t common at all. When I did I wouldn’t gather any more, that one was enough for me. I realized no matter the smell if there was a load in them it was beyond amazing.

This went on for a long time, most of a year. It was my favorite weekly activity. Sometimes I wouldn’t jerk off the day before I went foraging through the hamper so it would be even better. More and more often though I couldn’t wait a week and would go get one or two for a quick release. Eventually I got brazen and didn’t care as much.

I had somehow gotten the idea that they were better the fresher they were. I even convinced myself that I could tell the vintage just form the strength of the smell. (Again, super cringe I know). This idea led me to my most risky foraging. On the days he had practice and would shower at home I would wait until he was asleep at night, or as best as I could tell, he wasn’t watching TV or on his laptop anymore, and sneak into the bathroom to find the pair he had taken off earlier. That was a rush and got me back to the sublime place that was that first pair.

That didn’t last as long as it could have though. I was convinced that the few hours I had to wait were degrading them. I was becoming obsessed with smelling them right off his body. What I wanted more than anything was for them to be warm and wet from his junk. The freshest of the fresh I thought.

I came up with a plan, perfect in its simplicity. I would wait until he came home one day after practice and make sure I was hanging out in my room with the bathroom door open. Like normal he would come in to tell me he was going to shower and close the door. I would wait until he was done and in his room getting dressed. Then I would close his bathroom door and tell him I had to poop. It worked like magic. The 20 minutes or so I had to wait weren’t that bad at all, they were still kind of warm and moist and I was back to blowing mind breaking wads right there on the toilet. No need for clean-up.

Of course, that only led me to want them to be even more fresh. Like directly off of him not a minute later. I just knew that the 20 minutes they spent in there while the shower was fogging up the place had degraded them. Was the wetness even from him or from the humid room? I was so stupid, made even more so by my success, that I thought I could have this anyway I wanted. My new plan was my old plan, with one major difference. Instead of waiting for him to be done with the shower and taking the bathroom for my own, I would come in while he was showering.

As soon as I heard the shower curtain close I made my move. I burst in with an excuse that I needed something in my medicine cabinet. Not the best lie, but I couldn’t think of something else. To my surprise and relief, he didn’t even react more than a grunted ok. I didn’t have a backup plan if he reacted poorly or asked me to leave. I knew from my last few attempts he liked to kick his dirty clothes off and into the hamper in one motion, or so I imagined. That was how I always found them. Roughly launched in the direction of the wicker basket, often precariously perched on the side as if holding onto the promise of being cleaned again one day. They were typically still inside of the shorts or pants was wearing, which should have been a clue, but only ever made me think that his pants acted as an extra insulation layer. I didn’t know how wrong I was about how my brother took his clothes off before a shower. He must put them in the hamper after the fact, because what I found was his basketball shorts he wore home form practice laying on the floor in the shape of two legs as if he had dropped them and just stepped out. My prize was nestled right in the middle, his bright red Nike training underwear.

Horny, stupid, and much more confident than I had any right to be, I quickly grabbed them from the floor and fled to my room, closing the door behind me. Not a second later they were smashed against my face and I was relishing in just how right I was about the ‘freshest of the fresh’. They were literally the same temperature of his body and fully wet with his ball sweat, not from the steam of the shower.

I was lost to the world, and, short of finding a big fat load in them, there was no better sexual height for me. It was so fresh it was almost acidic, a little more body odor than I like, but that didn’t matter. This cloth had just moments ago be soaking in and cupping my bothers full dick and balls and now I was smothering my face in it. It was heaven.

I didn’t hear the shower stop, and I certainly didn’t hear my door open. What I did hear was my brother, wrapped in a towel say, “Hey did you see my … holy fucking shit what the fuck!” (I actually don’t remember what he said, just the cursing and screaming.)

My brother caught me sniffing underwear much like I had caught him months earlier. I don’t for the life of me remember what happened immediately after. I know I screamed so loud I scared him into closing the door and then stood silent for some time. I think I might told him to get dressed or something because after what could have been an hour or 2 minutes he came back in wearing nothing but a new pair of basketball shorts.

I had hidden his underwear as best I could, under my bed, and was frozen in the middle of a fight or flight response. When came back in he was clearly upset. Some mix of angry, bewildered, scared, mortified and confused. I don’t remember him saying it but he must have asked what I was doing to which I responded “nothing,” tipping his emotional scales that much more towards anger.

“You’re gonna fucking lie to me? Were you fucking smelling my fucking underwear you sick fuck?”

I was so caught. If it had been any other pair than the ones he was just wearing, or even if he had been wearing any other pair then the very noticeable bright red Nikes maybe I could have squeezed my way out of it. But they weren’t, and I couldn’t. I can’t remember what I said exactly, all I really remember is a chorus of ‘holy fucking shit’ going through my head over and over again, but I must have said no.

He hollered again and then his face dropped, this I remember very clearly, all the color drained away and his eyes focused on the floor. I had not hidden them very well. A few centimeters of red were visible from underneath my bed skirt. He walked over and grabbed them and must have shouted again, I imagine something along the lines ‘oh yeah? Then what the fuck are these?’

That was it. The end of my life. Killed by my own brother’s hand. I started to cry. Not in a premeditated way, but probably mourning my own death. Since we were kids me crying was one way to get my brother to back off, or find out what happened and help me. It had that effect in the moment. He stopped for a second, probably trying to sort out what the fuck was going on here. I knew he wasn’t actually going to kill me dead right there.

My own brain, bless it as it’s saved me just as many times as it has screwed me, went into overdrive. I think I thought even if I was caught by him there was still some room for damage control. I knew I had to sacrifice mine and my brother’s relationship, but maybe I could get by without having my parents find out. That would definitely involve therapy, more church, and I’m sure being kicked out of the will.

The bravest words I ever spoke, I will remember them until I die, and I stole them from a commercial, “I got the idea from you, asshole,” I said still sobbing. Though now the tears were more for show than before.

I’ll also never forget the look of confusion quickly replaced by realization and then shame that swept across his face. Along with it came back the flush he entered with.

Less than a second later he mumbled something like, “Fuck you, don’t fucking do it again,” and left.

For world shattering events it actually could have gone worse. It sucked that my favorite masturbation material was now gone. I wasn’t stupid enough to try again. I was also no longer ‘not hurting anyone if no one knew’, cause he did. I also desperately wanted things with my brother to someday repair themselves.

In the immediate aftermath he wouldn’t make eye contact with me, and also kept his bathroom door firmly closed all hours of the day and night. Not that I was going out of my way to notice, but I couldn’t help but realize he also started keeping his dirty laundry in his room until it was time for our mom to collect it. Honestly that was for the best. As much as I was all about letting that part of my life go, who knows what would have happened in the heat of a rather spicy jerk off session.

As time went on he started warming up to me more and more and more. Eventually he even started leaving his bathroom door open again. I was so relieved cause I love my brother and while I hoped things would get better I was still worried.

I would say a month later things were fully back to normal with us, but it could have been less than that. I know it felt like forever. He was even coming in my room again to hang out and play video games after school if we were both home alone like normal. One of those days we were playing a game and just hanging out when he got all quiet for a while. I don’t think I thought anything of it at first, but when I asked him what was up he kind of grumbled nothing and tried to move on.

As the afternoon went on into evening I kept bugging him what was up and he kept brushing me off until finally I said, “Either tell me what’s wrong or go back to your own room to sulk.” My brother has this mentality where he stresses about other people’s problems. It’s kind of him, but can be really annoying to be around if you live with him. I thought it had something to do with a girl, or his friends or something. Nope. It was my worst fear.

I had done a pretty good job of forgetting what happened, and I thought so had he, but I was wrong. He said without looking at me, “So were you, really, you know, with my, you know, that time? Did I really gave you the idea?”

My fucking heart stopped and went into overdrive at the same time. As of yet neither of us had ever brought up what happened that day. Not even a passing reference. Once he forgave me it was like it had never happened. Again, I don’t remember how the conversation went down word for word but it was something this. “Holy shit man I don’t know, I don’t really want to talk about it, but I’m so sorry. I really am.”

“Was that the first time?” he asked still not looking at me.

I guess I figured fuck it, he was the one bringing it up and if he wanted to talk about it we might as well. I was the one creeping on him after all. “No,” I said trying to be honest like he was with me the time I found him.

“Fuck man that’s really …” he trailed off.

“Gross?”

“Well, yeah, but like I get it, as you fucking know. But no, I was gonna say … not creepy, but like what the fuck man? Why would you go behind my back like that? I felt kinda, I don’t know, violated maybe? Like that was kind of an invasion, or like you took something from me, you know?”

I didn’t know what to say. He was right. It was a violation, and I said so. “You’re right it was. I’m so sorry. I’ve never done it again and I never would. I don’t know, I just got so caught up in it I was like obsessed.”

“You were obsessed with your brother’s underwear? Sick fuck.” he said, some of the tension leaving his voice.

“Fuck you. No! Yours were just the only ones I had access to.” My face was flush and I was starting to feel defensive.

“Why didn’t you tell me? If I was the one who gave you the idea and all.” He said looking at me for the first time.

“How the fuck would I bring up getting off to my brother’s smelly underwear to his fucking face?” He may have been getting calmer but I was going in the opposite direction.

“I don’t fucking know man. Maybe it wouldn’t have felt like such a violation if you had told me. Like if I knew then it wouldn’t have felt like you were stealing something from me.”

I guess he had a point, it just wasn’t one I could understand in that moment. “What would I have said, ‘oh hey man when your done with your compression shorts could you give them to me I really like the fresh ball smell’? You would have punched my skull in backwards!”

“So, it’s fresh ball smell you like?” he said with a shit eating grin.

I punched him as hard as could in the arm. He reacted as he always did when we got physical and immediately pinned me to the floor. We wrestled for a bit before I got out of his grip, or more likely until he let me go, I was huffing and puffing, he wasn’t even phased at all.

He was laughing and leaning back on the side of my bed and said, “I’ll take that as a yes.” I punched him and again, with no retaliation this time and sat back.

We sat there quietly staring at the pause menu on the video game until he said, “Seriously you could have told me. You found me doing the exact same thing and didn’t judge me, I wouldn’t have judged you either.” The joke was gone from his voice. He sounded serious, and a little upset, but not angry. More hurt maybe.

I don’t know why, maybe I had had enough of this and wanted the embarrassment to be over, but I said, “Seriously? I would have told you and would have what? Said cool man and given me some of your dirty underwear to jerk it to? Don’t be fucking insane, you would have freaked out and told mom and dad and I would have gone immediately into therapy not only for being gay but a pervert too.”

That must have hit a cord. He said, “I would NEVER tell mom and dad. You fucking didn’t! Why would you think I would?! And who fucking knows! If you had come to me like a man instead of sneaking behind my back maybe I would have helped you out instead of this fucking mess you made. Like I trusted you, you couldn’t have fucking trusted me?”

He looked at me and we were quiet for a second. Something he said struck me. “Helped me out? How?”

“I don’t know man … maybe if you told me that you had the same thing I did with underwear but for guys I would have been freaked out at first but then I could have like … I could have like left some for you or something? I know that if I had some girl across bathroom from me and she knew I liked her panties it would be beyond amazing if she like … forgot to get them washed sometimes … you know? I get it, obviously, but like we’ve fucked that all up now”

I was stunned, but I couldn’t just let that hang there. “You would have willingly given me something of yours knowing I would beat off to it?”

“I mean I wouldn’t think of that way, that’s even more fucked up. It would have been more like helping you out. You’re my little brother and if you have the same kink as me that actually makes me feel like less of a freak about it, you know? But I get the real thing all the time and you don’t, so it would have been more like charity for my horny and sex starved little brother. Besides it costs me literally nothing. Not that I would imagine what you do with them. Is it any worse than when dad bought uncle Toby porno mags? And he was much younger than you and dad was older than I am. If that’s what you’re into, why not help you out?”

He was blowing my damn mind. I had no idea my brother could even think in that way. It made sense though. He was kind hearted and I knew he loved me, but that was some next level shit.

“It’s just a shame you ruined it by being a sneaky little bitch.” He said as a form of finale. He picked up the controller and said in a totally different tone, “Wanna play one more round? Then I really have to start that fucking final.”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling defeated but not knowing why.

A few minutes later we were playing a pretty intense game. My mind was finally starting to get away from the conversation we just had and he said, “So was it only fresh balls? Or are there other things?”

“What?” I said. I was trying to beat him but his question threw me.

“I know I like it when I get a girl really horny and she’s wet all over her panties. That’s the best shit ever. Is it only ball sweat or is it like … fuck,” he said as I got a pretty devastating blow against him, “or is it other stuff? I don’t really know what gay guys and straight girls like about men’s bodies honestly, I find them totally gross and hairy and gross.”

If his intention was to distract me he succeeded. He killed me and looked over with his victory face for a second and said, “Well?”

“Well what?” I said either not putting two and two together, or still too distracted by my loss.

“Well is it just balls or like butts and dicks and stuff? What were you into?”

I flushed again, bright fucking red and said, “You don’t want to know that man. That’s gross.”

“Yeah it’s gross but I want to know. What was so enticing that you had to sneak behind my back and rob me.” He looked serious, but again not angry.

I decided fuck it again and answered honestly. “It was ball sweat yeah. But I was like obsessed with it being fresh, like right off your body. It was the idea that that it had just been right there cupping your junk and stewing in your ball juices and dick leakage. Its fucking gross I told you,” I said as he made a disgusted face. “You asked asshole.”

“I did. So when you got my Nikes which I had just worn to practice, that must have been the best thing ever huh?”

In the spirit of honesty, and maybe to see if I could either end this by grossing him out, I said, “Yeah they were amazing. But no, not the best. The best were when I would find ones you used as clean up after busting.” It was my turn to smirk. If he wanted to torture me with this shit I would go ahead and give him what he was asking for.

I didn’t expect the face he made, kind of like he wasn’t surprised. “Yeah I can see that. Shame I only cum in my underwear when I’m not home.”

“How? What?” I didn’t expect that. I never knew the mystery of his loaded underwear but cumming in them while not home was not what I was expecting. What were the circumstances for that even? If he was with other people why not finish in the condom or their mouth or whatever?

Before I could say anything else, and without answering me he got up and said, “Alright Mr. Cumstain, I gotta go do that fucking trig final. Don’t let me catch you beating off thinking about your big brother’s sweaty balls” He grabbed his full package, bit his lip and walked through the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I was left totally stunned. Not just by his mystery cums, but by the whole nature of the conversation we just had.

I had barely recovered by the time I heard the garage open signaling that one of our parents were home and dinner would be soon served. I was still fucking around on the video game, but I wasn’t really paying attention, mostly replaying the conversation we had when he walked back in my room.

“Enjoy,” he said and threw something at my face before disappearing out of my room into the hallway and downstairs.

I took what he threw at me off my face. It was warm and kinda damp. I looked at it and my heart stopped. It was a pair of his underwear. Presumably from the warmth they were the ones he was just wearing - filled with his semen. I pulled it open to see the white mess barely setting into the fabric. My penis had never gone from flaccid to erect so quickly. I brought it to my face and inhaled, yup that’s his ball smell. But it was overcome with the scent of fresh flowers I knew was his load. I darted my tongue out quickly to taste it. It was so different from mine. It was the first semen that didn’t come from my own dick I had ever tasted. I proceeded to eat as much of it as I could before it soaked into the cotton. I fucking loved it. So did my cock. I didn’t waste time contemplating what it meant, I just went to town on myself. And finished in less than a minute.

The rest of the night was totally normal from an outside perspective. We ate dinner and hung out with our parents for a while before my dad went down to the basement to watch TV and my brother and I went upstairs to do homework and play video games or on our laptops. I couldn’t do any of it. I wanted so badly to talk to him about what the fuck happened earlier. I didn’t need to wait long.

He came in my room and sat next to me on my bed and said, “Alright, not that you deserve it, but I’ll help you out, you sick little fuck. I’ll blow all my loads in my underwear and leave them for you. If you’re around and I get the itch I’ll give them to you right after. I’ll even wear the same pair to practice or weight room or working out for a few days and let you know when they’re ready. But here’s the deal, don’t bring it up to me, ever. I’ll bring it up to you if I think I need to. Don’t ever ask me for something, if I’m not in the mood or trying to save up for a girl or something it’s a no-go, period. You’ll get them when I decide. If you so much a suggest it with a fucking glance I’ll punch you in the neck so hard you’ll need a breathing tube. But you’re in luck because I jerk off at least once a day, and most of the time more. If I bust and you’re sleeping I’ll leave them under your pillow. Ok? Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

I went to say thank you, or like any-fucking-thing at all when he said, “What did I just fucking say? Do not ever mention this to me, at all. It will happen when it happens, totally up to me. Just shut up and wank off until you move out and find yourself a man who’s jizz stained boxers you can nut over that’s not related to you.” He smiled, punched me and left. And that was that.

I never mentioned it to him again, but the next morning I found a wet pair of boxers under my pillow. I love getting off in the morning, really starts the day off right. That was followed by him coming in my room after dinner and tossing me a newly wet pair with a “Here,” before he was gone again. That became our routine. Most nights he would give me his freshly soiled underwear, or would tell me that there was one drying upstairs if I wasn’t there to receive it presently. He would also tell me off the cuff, “Day two of three, look for them tomorrow,” in reference to the ones he would wear for a few days straight. I loved the cum more, but would never want to lose his glorious ball smell. I would never respond as per the agreement, only act on his prompts when necessary.

This went one until I left for college. He lived at home his first year because he didn’t apply for housing in time and his school was close enough to commute. Which was great for me as all the girls from high school he would hook up with were gone, and he wasn’t around his campus long enough to meet new ones. That year was absolutely overflowing with his jizz and ball sweat soaked briefs. It was amazing. It was a shame it had to stop when he got a dorm room the next year. I still got his crusty stuff and fresh ones when he would come home though. The same went for when we were both home for holidays when I finally got to college.

I moved out a few years later. He came to visit alone after he saw the place with my parents. Within 10 minutes of getting there he excused himself to use the bathroom. When he was done he passed by me and said under his breath, “Under the sink.” There was a pair of his with a fresh white load. He was gone after I blew my own and came back out.

It was our new routine that has continued to this day. Every time he comes over he leaves a pair for me. When I go over there he lets me know a color and how many days. For the life of me I don’t know what he gets out of it. But I am not complaining. College football, and post-college gym sessions have done amazing things for his body. He finally got those 6 abs he always wanted. I have never once said a thing though, and I never plan to either. I just want to keep enjoying my brothers cum stained underwear. It’s his idea after all.

- - - Updated - - -

Not my story Found it on reddit, I came so hard reading it.

I just came across this sub while looking at porn and had to make a throwaway to share my story. I can’t believe this exists and I’m so happy. It’s cool to see other people had experiences kind of like mine. Mine isn’t anywhere near as hot as a lot of stuff on here, and it’s really not that big of a deal, but I hope you like it. Some of this stuff has been burned into my memory for all of time and some stuff I’m just filling in the blanks. I’m not a writer or anything, but I did take creative writing in college so let’s see if it paid off. I’ll try to make this more of story and give as much background as I can without writing a novel (spoiler alert I failed, sorry it’s so long).

My brother is two years older than me (we’re 25 and 27 now). We were always really close, I admired and copied him all through my childhood. Our parents always encouraged him to look after me cause he’s the oldest and our family is pretty conservative. He was definitely my best friend through most of my childhood until about high school when we drifted apart a little. Still friends, just not best friends as our interests changed. We both played a bunch of sports together when we were little but I dropped off and started doing more drama and acting and singing, while he kept playing all through college.

I eventually came out to him cause I wanted to date someone from school and thought he could help me be an alibi to our parents. That crashed and burned cause the guy left the school almost immediately after we went ‘official’ leaving me as the only gay kid in the school as far as I knew. My brother was weird at first, for like a second, like ‘oh shit this is happening’, then was super cool about it. He would give me shit all the time. Whenever gay people would be brought up, like if some actor came out he would be ‘oh do you know him?’ and I would be like no but let me check his gay registry number. It was really cool of him since my parents took it really hard when I came out after college, but him supporting me I think helped them come around eventually.

Our bedrooms shared a connected bathroom called a Jack and Jill so the only way into the bathroom was through one of our rooms. We rarely closed the doors unless one of us were taking a dump or showering and even then, not all the time.

This is one of those things I’ll never forget. I was in the school musical and practice was canceled cause the drama teacher’s kid got rear ended and she had to leave. I got a ride home early, went into my room, and I swear to god as soon as I got in I was frozen. My brother was on his bed which I could clearly see through our bathroom, jerking off with something pressed against his face. I didn’t even look at his member cause I didn’t understand what he was doing. It was like my brain was trying to work out what I was seeing but couldn’t. He heard me immediately and just about jumped out of his skin and 4 feet into the air. Before I could say anything, he screamed, “What the fuck are you doing faggot, close the fucking door!” I’ll never forget that. He sounded more scared than angry but to me it was like a punch in the fucking face. He had never called me that before, and if he did when we were younger, never once I came out.

I was so stunned but slammed the door after a second. I literally sat on my bed and I think I cried, but I don’t really remember. I was so pissed, and hurt and I remember my stomach feeling like I was going to throw up. I have no idea how long I sat there, but eventually decided to punch him, when he came into my room. His face was beet red, and I screamed (possibly cried) for him to get the fuck out. He wouldn’t and just kept saying sorry, that he didn’t mean what he said, that I scared the shit out of him, he would never call me that, blah blah blah.

I guess I calmed down cause eventually he was sitting on my bed with me and we were talking close to normal, but I was still really pissed at him, and he knew that. I think he may have called himself a faggot for calling me that. I could tell he was sorry for it. I forget what we were talking about but I know that I was so curious to know what he was doing, so I asked him. He was like “jerking off dumbass, no one was supposed to be home until later.” I told him I obviously knew that, but what was he doing? It looked like he was trying to give himself chloroform or something? This I’ll never forget either, his face got so red I could feel the heat off of it and he looked like he was gonna puke. I don’t think he would have said anything if he didn’t know how mad and upset I was with him, but he goes “ok but you have to swear to god you won’t tell anyone and never bring it up again?” I was like yeah duh, and he said, “They’re Jess’s panties, she left them here the other day.”

I was super grossed out and didn’t understand and let him know that. He told me Jess, his girlfriend at the time, had come over to swim and left them there. I still didn’t understand so he said something like, “look I find the smell of pussy really hot and her panties are the next best thing to the real thing. I’m sure you would like it too if it had a dick in there instead.” He was so embarrassed, and I laughed at him for it, but we kind of let it go and didn’t talk about it again.

But the thing was after he left my room it totally opened my eyes to a whole new world. It blew my mind. I had never even thought that could be hot, but for the next few weeks that’s all I could think about it. I was obsessed with pictures of guys in underwear, I even jerked off to (several) men’s underwear stores online. It was the birth of my first and most enduring kink. To this day whenever I hook up with a guy I ask him what kind of underwear he’ll be wearing, and my own collection is literally a third of my income.

Anyway, it kind of grew from there. Just looking at underwear was becoming not enough. I wished I had the real thing. The idea that it was the smell that got my brother off just wouldn’t let my hormone addled brain go. A brilliant idea popped in my head, I, being a male, wore male underwear, and as such would make the said underwear smell like male parts. That was a quick failure as I took my underwear off and literally could only smell the detergent my mom used. Another idea popped into my head, maybe since it was underwear I just took off I couldn’t smell anything because I couldn’t smell myself, like those commercials said I was ‘nose blind’. So my third brilliant idea was to go get a dirty pair out of the laundry to see if I could smell myself on those instead. The whole thing was super cringe, I know.

We kept our laundry basket in the bathroom so our mom didn’t have to go into each of our rooms to get our dirty clothes when she washed them, also this way we could just undress right there before we showered. It was apparently not that common of a thing as I blew my Freshmen roommate’s mind when I told him how that would be easier. I went in the bathroom, I have no idea where my brother was or what day of the week it was, or even what time of day it was, all I know is that when I got there looking for my own pair I instead found a pair of his.

I was never attracted to my brother, but I did always know he was hot. Once he got into high school he had that football player body with the huge chest and arms. He didn’t have a six pack or anything, but his stomach was mostly flat. It’s not like he was ever in need of a girlfriend either. The whole school knew he was a huge slut. Though I never did know when or where he was hooking up with them as our parents would never let that shit fly. He also went through puberty much earlier than I did, cause he was older, but also started at a much younger age then me. It’s like we stopped growing body hair at the same time, only since he was growing it for longer he was much hairier. Especially for an 18-year-old. And holy shit could he sweat. If he went running in the cold for more than 5 minutes he’d come home with a drenched shirt type of sweat.

I had a choice to make in that bathroom and probably in retrospect I should have walked away right there, but the raging boner I had sticking out and the racing of my heart beat in my ears didn’t exactly lend itself to rational thinking. I picked the pair up and inhaled and holy shit I was born again. He must have worn that pair to football practice or a game or something because it was so strong. I can’t describe it, that musky ball smell mixed with body wash and what I can only think of as pure testosterone. I blew a load in like less than 2 minutes standing there. Best one I had had up to that point in my life.

I felt really guilty after that and resumed my normal porn and jerking off habits for about a week. Then the feeling came over me again and I was back to underwear models, and soon after that I wanted that smell again. This time though, I would go through with finding my own not my brother’s. That was gross and wrong. And I was successful in finding one of my own first. It worked, or really it helped, but it was no were near as good as his. Not even a little close. So I had another choice to make, and, well, since you’re reading this I think you can guess what I chose. I found another of his and took a hit. It was sublime. Not a strong as the first time but it got the job done just as quick, and started the same cycle of guilt.

When I came back around to wanting that experience again I rationalized that I wasn’t hurting anyone and if no one knew than it was like it never happened. This started a whole new routine. I would make sure I had at least the room and bathroom to myself, better if it was the whole house, and then rummage through our shared hamper for every single pair of his I could find. I would wait until the day before my mom did laundry so there were typically at least 6-7 pairs in there. It was better when baseball started, which he played, as there would be the pairs he wore during the day and then the ones he played in. It was great.

The best though, by far, and I didn’t even know I would like it the first time I found it, was when I would find a pair with a load in it. I didn’t spend too much time considering my brother’s masturbation habits, but what I came to think was that he used his underwear if he couldn’t get toilet paper from our bathroom for one reason or another. Or if he was jerking off and so overcome by horniness he just blew in what he was wearing, like the day I caught him I imagined. I liked that explanation better because it made me feel like he was just as capable of being taken over by his dick as I was. Like if his dick could cause him to make a bad decision then it wasn’t so bad if mine did too. Finding loaded pairs wasn’t common at all. When I did I wouldn’t gather any more, that one was enough for me. I realized no matter the smell if there was a load in them it was beyond amazing.

This went on for a long time, most of a year. It was my favorite weekly activity. Sometimes I wouldn’t jerk off the day before I went foraging through the hamper so it would be even better. More and more often though I couldn’t wait a week and would go get one or two for a quick release. Eventually I got brazen and didn’t care as much.

I had somehow gotten the idea that they were better the fresher they were. I even convinced myself that I could tell the vintage just form the strength of the smell. (Again, super cringe I know). This idea led me to my most risky foraging. On the days he had practice and would shower at home I would wait until he was asleep at night, or as best as I could tell, he wasn’t watching TV or on his laptop anymore, and sneak into the bathroom to find the pair he had taken off earlier. That was a rush and got me back to the sublime place that was that first pair.

That didn’t last as long as it could have though. I was convinced that the few hours I had to wait were degrading them. I was becoming obsessed with smelling them right off his body. What I wanted more than anything was for them to be warm and wet from his junk. The freshest of the fresh I thought.

I came up with a plan, perfect in its simplicity. I would wait until he came home one day after practice and make sure I was hanging out in my room with the bathroom door open. Like normal he would come in to tell me he was going to shower and close the door. I would wait until he was done and in his room getting dressed. Then I would close his bathroom door and tell him I had to poop. It worked like magic. The 20 minutes or so I had to wait weren’t that bad at all, they were still kind of warm and moist and I was back to blowing mind breaking wads right there on the toilet. No need for clean-up.

Of course, that only led me to want them to be even more fresh. Like directly off of him not a minute later. I just knew that the 20 minutes they spent in there while the shower was fogging up the place had degraded them. Was the wetness even from him or from the humid room? I was so stupid, made even more so by my success, that I thought I could have this anyway I wanted. My new plan was my old plan, with one major difference. Instead of waiting for him to be done with the shower and taking the bathroom for my own, I would come in while he was showering.

As soon as I heard the shower curtain close I made my move. I burst in with an excuse that I needed something in my medicine cabinet. Not the best lie, but I couldn’t think of something else. To my surprise and relief, he didn’t even react more than a grunted ok. I didn’t have a backup plan if he reacted poorly or asked me to leave. I knew from my last few attempts he liked to kick his dirty clothes off and into the hamper in one motion, or so I imagined. That was how I always found them. Roughly launched in the direction of the wicker basket, often precariously perched on the side as if holding onto the promise of being cleaned again one day. They were typically still inside of the shorts or pants was wearing, which should have been a clue, but only ever made me think that his pants acted as an extra insulation layer. I didn’t know how wrong I was about how my brother took his clothes off before a shower. He must put them in the hamper after the fact, because what I found was his basketball shorts he wore home form practice laying on the floor in the shape of two legs as if he had dropped them and just stepped out. My prize was nestled right in the middle, his bright red Nike training underwear.

Horny, stupid, and much more confident than I had any right to be, I quickly grabbed them from the floor and fled to my room, closing the door behind me. Not a second later they were smashed against my face and I was relishing in just how right I was about the ‘freshest of the fresh’. They were literally the same temperature of his body and fully wet with his ball sweat, not from the steam of the shower.

I was lost to the world, and, short of finding a big fat load in them, there was no better sexual height for me. It was so fresh it was almost acidic, a little more body odor than I like, but that didn’t matter. This cloth had just moments ago be soaking in and cupping my bothers full dick and balls and now I was smothering my face in it. It was heaven.

I didn’t hear the shower stop, and I certainly didn’t hear my door open. What I did hear was my brother, wrapped in a towel say, “Hey did you see my … holy fucking shit what the fuck!” (I actually don’t remember what he said, just the cursing and screaming.)

My brother caught me sniffing underwear much like I had caught him months earlier. I don’t for the life of me remember what happened immediately after. I know I screamed so loud I scared him into closing the door and then stood silent for some time. I think I might told him to get dressed or something because after what could have been an hour or 2 minutes he came back in wearing nothing but a new pair of basketball shorts.

I had hidden his underwear as best I could, under my bed, and was frozen in the middle of a fight or flight response. When came back in he was clearly upset. Some mix of angry, bewildered, scared, mortified and confused. I don’t remember him saying it but he must have asked what I was doing to which I responded “nothing,” tipping his emotional scales that much more towards anger.

“You’re gonna fucking lie to me? Were you fucking smelling my fucking underwear you sick fuck?”

I was so caught. If it had been any other pair than the ones he was just wearing, or even if he had been wearing any other pair then the very noticeable bright red Nikes maybe I could have squeezed my way out of it. But they weren’t, and I couldn’t. I can’t remember what I said exactly, all I really remember is a chorus of ‘holy fucking shit’ going through my head over and over again, but I must have said no.

He hollered again and then his face dropped, this I remember very clearly, all the color drained away and his eyes focused on the floor. I had not hidden them very well. A few centimeters of red were visible from underneath my bed skirt. He walked over and grabbed them and must have shouted again, I imagine something along the lines ‘oh yeah? Then what the fuck are these?’

That was it. The end of my life. Killed by my own brother’s hand. I started to cry. Not in a premeditated way, but probably mourning my own death. Since we were kids me crying was one way to get my brother to back off, or find out what happened and help me. It had that effect in the moment. He stopped for a second, probably trying to sort out what the fuck was going on here. I knew he wasn’t actually going to kill me dead right there.

My own brain, bless it as it’s saved me just as many times as it has screwed me, went into overdrive. I think I thought even if I was caught by him there was still some room for damage control. I knew I had to sacrifice mine and my brother’s relationship, but maybe I could get by without having my parents find out. That would definitely involve therapy, more church, and I’m sure being kicked out of the will.

The bravest words I ever spoke, I will remember them until I die, and I stole them from a commercial, “I got the idea from you, asshole,” I said still sobbing. Though now the tears were more for show than before.

I’ll also never forget the look of confusion quickly replaced by realization and then shame that swept across his face. Along with it came back the flush he entered with.

Less than a second later he mumbled something like, “Fuck you, don’t fucking do it again,” and left.

For world shattering events it actually could have gone worse. It sucked that my favorite masturbation material was now gone. I wasn’t stupid enough to try again. I was also no longer ‘not hurting anyone if no one knew’, cause he did. I also desperately wanted things with my brother to someday repair themselves.

In the immediate aftermath he wouldn’t make eye contact with me, and also kept his bathroom door firmly closed all hours of the day and night. Not that I was going out of my way to notice, but I couldn’t help but realize he also started keeping his dirty laundry in his room until it was time for our mom to collect it. Honestly that was for the best. As much as I was all about letting that part of my life go, who knows what would have happened in the heat of a rather spicy jerk off session.

As time went on he started warming up to me more and more and more. Eventually he even started leaving his bathroom door open again. I was so relieved cause I love my brother and while I hoped things would get better I was still worried.

I would say a month later things were fully back to normal with us, but it could have been less than that. I know it felt like forever. He was even coming in my room again to hang out and play video games after school if we were both home alone like normal. One of those days we were playing a game and just hanging out when he got all quiet for a while. I don’t think I thought anything of it at first, but when I asked him what was up he kind of grumbled nothing and tried to move on.

As the afternoon went on into evening I kept bugging him what was up and he kept brushing me off until finally I said, “Either tell me what’s wrong or go back to your own room to sulk.” My brother has this mentality where he stresses about other people’s problems. It’s kind of him, but can be really annoying to be around if you live with him. I thought it had something to do with a girl, or his friends or something. Nope. It was my worst fear.

I had done a pretty good job of forgetting what happened, and I thought so had he, but I was wrong. He said without looking at me, “So were you, really, you know, with my, you know, that time? Did I really gave you the idea?”

My fucking heart stopped and went into overdrive at the same time. As of yet neither of us had ever brought up what happened that day. Not even a passing reference. Once he forgave me it was like it had never happened. Again, I don’t remember how the conversation went down word for word but it was something this. “Holy shit man I don’t know, I don’t really want to talk about it, but I’m so sorry. I really am.”

“Was that the first time?” he asked still not looking at me.

I guess I figured fuck it, he was the one bringing it up and if he wanted to talk about it we might as well. I was the one creeping on him after all. “No,” I said trying to be honest like he was with me the time I found him.

“Fuck man that’s really …” he trailed off.

“Gross?”

“Well, yeah, but like I get it, as you fucking know. But no, I was gonna say … not creepy, but like what the fuck man? Why would you go behind my back like that? I felt kinda, I don’t know, violated maybe? Like that was kind of an invasion, or like you took something from me, you know?”

I didn’t know what to say. He was right. It was a violation, and I said so. “You’re right it was. I’m so sorry. I’ve never done it again and I never would. I don’t know, I just got so caught up in it I was like obsessed.”

“You were obsessed with your brother’s underwear? Sick fuck.” he said, some of the tension leaving his voice.

“Fuck you. No! Yours were just the only ones I had access to.” My face was flush and I was starting to feel defensive.

“Why didn’t you tell me? If I was the one who gave you the idea and all.” He said looking at me for the first time.

“How the fuck would I bring up getting off to my brother’s smelly underwear to his fucking face?” He may have been getting calmer but I was going in the opposite direction.

“I don’t fucking know man. Maybe it wouldn’t have felt like such a violation if you had told me. Like if I knew then it wouldn’t have felt like you were stealing something from me.”

I guess he had a point, it just wasn’t one I could understand in that moment. “What would I have said, ‘oh hey man when your done with your compression shorts could you give them to me I really like the fresh ball smell’? You would have punched my skull in backwards!”

“So, it’s fresh ball smell you like?” he said with a shit eating grin.

I punched him as hard as could in the arm. He reacted as he always did when we got physical and immediately pinned me to the floor. We wrestled for a bit before I got out of his grip, or more likely until he let me go, I was huffing and puffing, he wasn’t even phased at all.

He was laughing and leaning back on the side of my bed and said, “I’ll take that as a yes.” I punched him and again, with no retaliation this time and sat back.

We sat there quietly staring at the pause menu on the video game until he said, “Seriously you could have told me. You found me doing the exact same thing and didn’t judge me, I wouldn’t have judged you either.” The joke was gone from his voice. He sounded serious, and a little upset, but not angry. More hurt maybe.

I don’t know why, maybe I had had enough of this and wanted the embarrassment to be over, but I said, “Seriously? I would have told you and would have what? Said cool man and given me some of your dirty underwear to jerk it to? Don’t be fucking insane, you would have freaked out and told mom and dad and I would have gone immediately into therapy not only for being gay but a pervert too.”

That must have hit a cord. He said, “I would NEVER tell mom and dad. You fucking didn’t! Why would you think I would?! And who fucking knows! If you had come to me like a man instead of sneaking behind my back maybe I would have helped you out instead of this fucking mess you made. Like I trusted you, you couldn’t have fucking trusted me?”

He looked at me and we were quiet for a second. Something he said struck me. “Helped me out? How?”

“I don’t know man … maybe if you told me that you had the same thing I did with underwear but for guys I would have been freaked out at first but then I could have like … I could have like left some for you or something? I know that if I had some girl across bathroom from me and she knew I liked her panties it would be beyond amazing if she like … forgot to get them washed sometimes … you know? I get it, obviously, but like we’ve fucked that all up now”

I was stunned, but I couldn’t just let that hang there. “You would have willingly given me something of yours knowing I would beat off to it?”

“I mean I wouldn’t think of that way, that’s even more fucked up. It would have been more like helping you out. You’re my little brother and if you have the same kink as me that actually makes me feel like less of a freak about it, you know? But I get the real thing all the time and you don’t, so it would have been more like charity for my horny and sex starved little brother. Besides it costs me literally nothing. Not that I would imagine what you do with them. Is it any worse than when dad bought uncle Toby porno mags? And he was much younger than you and dad was older than I am. If that’s what you’re into, why not help you out?”

He was blowing my damn mind. I had no idea my brother could even think in that way. It made sense though. He was kind hearted and I knew he loved me, but that was some next level shit.

“It’s just a shame you ruined it by being a sneaky little bitch.” He said as a form of finale. He picked up the controller and said in a totally different tone, “Wanna play one more round? Then I really have to start that fucking final.”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling defeated but not knowing why.

A few minutes later we were playing a pretty intense game. My mind was finally starting to get away from the conversation we just had and he said, “So was it only fresh balls? Or are there other things?”

“What?” I said. I was trying to beat him but his question threw me.

“I know I like it when I get a girl really horny and she’s wet all over her panties. That’s the best shit ever. Is it only ball sweat or is it like … fuck,” he said as I got a pretty devastating blow against him, “or is it other stuff? I don’t really know what gay guys and straight girls like about men’s bodies honestly, I find them totally gross and hairy and gross.”

If his intention was to distract me he succeeded. He killed me and looked over with his victory face for a second and said, “Well?”

“Well what?” I said either not putting two and two together, or still too distracted by my loss.

“Well is it just balls or like butts and dicks and stuff? What were you into?”

I flushed again, bright fucking red and said, “You don’t want to know that man. That’s gross.”

“Yeah it’s gross but I want to know. What was so enticing that you had to sneak behind my back and rob me.” He looked serious, but again not angry.

I decided fuck it again and answered honestly. “It was ball sweat yeah. But I was like obsessed with it being fresh, like right off your body. It was the idea that that it had just been right there cupping your junk and stewing in your ball juices and dick leakage. Its fucking gross I told you,” I said as he made a disgusted face. “You asked asshole.”

“I did. So when you got my Nikes which I had just worn to practice, that must have been the best thing ever huh?”

In the spirit of honesty, and maybe to see if I could either end this by grossing him out, I said, “Yeah they were amazing. But no, not the best. The best were when I would find ones you used as clean up after busting.” It was my turn to smirk. If he wanted to torture me with this shit I would go ahead and give him what he was asking for.

I didn’t expect the face he made, kind of like he wasn’t surprised. “Yeah I can see that. Shame I only cum in my underwear when I’m not home.”

“How? What?” I didn’t expect that. I never knew the mystery of his loaded underwear but cumming in them while not home was not what I was expecting. What were the circumstances for that even? If he was with other people why not finish in the condom or their mouth or whatever?

Before I could say anything else, and without answering me he got up and said, “Alright Mr. Cumstain, I gotta go do that fucking trig final. Don’t let me catch you beating off thinking about your big brother’s sweaty balls” He grabbed his full package, bit his lip and walked through the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I was left totally stunned. Not just by his mystery cums, but by the whole nature of the conversation we just had.

I had barely recovered by the time I heard the garage open signaling that one of our parents were home and dinner would be soon served. I was still fucking around on the video game, but I wasn’t really paying attention, mostly replaying the conversation we had when he walked back in my room.

“Enjoy,” he said and threw something at my face before disappearing out of my room into the hallway and downstairs.

I took what he threw at me off my face. It was warm and kinda damp. I looked at it and my heart stopped. It was a pair of his underwear. Presumably from the warmth they were the ones he was just wearing - filled with his semen. I pulled it open to see the white mess barely setting into the fabric. My penis had never gone from flaccid to erect so quickly. I brought it to my face and inhaled, yup that’s his ball smell. But it was overcome with the scent of fresh flowers I knew was his load. I darted my tongue out quickly to taste it. It was so different from mine. It was the first semen that didn’t come from my own dick I had ever tasted. I proceeded to eat as much of it as I could before it soaked into the cotton. I fucking loved it. So did my cock. I didn’t waste time contemplating what it meant, I just went to town on myself. And finished in less than a minute.

The rest of the night was totally normal from an outside perspective. We ate dinner and hung out with our parents for a while before my dad went down to the basement to watch TV and my brother and I went upstairs to do homework and play video games or on our laptops. I couldn’t do any of it. I wanted so badly to talk to him about what the fuck happened earlier. I didn’t need to wait long.

He came in my room and sat next to me on my bed and said, “Alright, not that you deserve it, but I’ll help you out, you sick little fuck. I’ll blow all my loads in my underwear and leave them for you. If you’re around and I get the itch I’ll give them to you right after. I’ll even wear the same pair to practice or weight room or working out for a few days and let you know when they’re ready. But here’s the deal, don’t bring it up to me, ever. I’ll bring it up to you if I think I need to. Don’t ever ask me for something, if I’m not in the mood or trying to save up for a girl or something it’s a no-go, period. You’ll get them when I decide. If you so much a suggest it with a fucking glance I’ll punch you in the neck so hard you’ll need a breathing tube. But you’re in luck because I jerk off at least once a day, and most of the time more. If I bust and you’re sleeping I’ll leave them under your pillow. Ok? Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

I went to say thank you, or like any-fucking-thing at all when he said, “What did I just fucking say? Do not ever mention this to me, at all. It will happen when it happens, totally up to me. Just shut up and wank off until you move out and find yourself a man who’s jizz stained boxers you can nut over that’s not related to you.” He smiled, punched me and left. And that was that.

I never mentioned it to him again, but the next morning I found a wet pair of boxers under my pillow. I love getting off in the morning, really starts the day off right. That was followed by him coming in my room after dinner and tossing me a newly wet pair with a “Here,” before he was gone again. That became our routine. Most nights he would give me his freshly soiled underwear, or would tell me that there was one drying upstairs if I wasn’t there to receive it presently. He would also tell me off the cuff, “Day two of three, look for them tomorrow,” in reference to the ones he would wear for a few days straight. I loved the cum more, but would never want to lose his glorious ball smell. I would never respond as per the agreement, only act on his prompts when necessary.

This went one until I left for college. He lived at home his first year because he didn’t apply for housing in time and his school was close enough to commute. Which was great for me as all the girls from high school he would hook up with were gone, and he wasn’t around his campus long enough to meet new ones. That year was absolutely overflowing with his jizz and ball sweat soaked briefs. It was amazing. It was a shame it had to stop when he got a dorm room the next year. I still got his crusty stuff and fresh ones when he would come home though. The same went for when we were both home for holidays when I finally got to college.

I moved out a few years later. He came to visit alone after he saw the place with my parents. Within 10 minutes of getting there he excused himself to use the bathroom. When he was done he passed by me and said under his breath, “Under the sink.” There was a pair of his with a fresh white load. He was gone after I blew my own and came back out.

It was our new routine that has continued to this day. Every time he comes over he leaves a pair for me. When I go over there he lets me know a color and how many days. For the life of me I don’t know what he gets out of it. But I am not complaining. College football, and post-college gym sessions have done amazing things for his body. He finally got those 6 abs he always wanted. I have never once said a thing though, and I never plan to either. I just want to keep enjoying my brothers cum stained underwear. It’s his idea after all.

 

[cuck72]

Re: Sniffing underwear

Am addicted to str8 teens used boxers and boxer briefs, but with this COVID crap, I havent stolen from any mates sons laundry baskets in over three weeks....

I too really get off on those young18+ yo dirty soiled boxers, or briefs. I've found and sniffed out a couple of my nephews pissy skid marked boxers. I fantasize about being on my knees sucking those super rock hard young cocks and eating their assholes.

 

[cuck72]

Re: Sniffing underwear

When all else fails, and I can't get some guys stinky underwear, I soil my own underwear. During the day when I piss, I like to leave a few piss drippings in my underwear at the end. And after I shit I make sure not to wipe it all, and I use the back of my underwear to wipe and get a nice shitty skid mark. I'll save those underwear for a few days, and sniff out the stale piss and shit marks in them. I have a few guys that I think about sucking and eating their assholes. So I really get off sniffing my own stinky underwear sometimes, and thinking it's their stinky unwashed cock and shithole.

 

[dougdc]

Could someone please tell me how to set up
Private Messaging on here? I cannot find it...

 

[dougdc]

Re: Sniffing underwear

Cuck72, can you please tell me how to set up Private Messaging on here? I’ve looked everywhere on my profile and can’t find it...

 

[paulad39uk]

Could someone please tell me how to set up
Private Messaging on here? I cannot find it...

Look at the top right hand corner of the page it says Welcome dougdc next to it Notifications click on it another screen will come up on the left hand side it says Send Message click on that and you can send a PM like you would do an email. Hope it works for you.

 

[dougdc]

Thank you very much paulad39uk.

 

[denverguy2020]

Re: Sniffing underwear

I love sniffing the armpits and soiled underwear of hot guys. Not just random guy at the gym weights 300 pounds and has a hairy ass/back.

 

[dromie]

Anyone interested in trading dirty underwear let me know

are you still interested in trading some underwear I have a jock that I wear a couple of days at a time. Back in the drawer never washed it what do you say

 

[Mockingbird29]

Been sniffing my step fathers underwear for years, I've even got a old pair of his boxers that he used as a cum rag. He threw it away one day and I retrieved it!! I sniff it and wank at least once a day! He used to have a small sock that was so filled with cum it was molded to his cock shape every time I would get it it would be wet! I never managed to get it when he threw it out, I so wish I could have it! At the moment his cum rag is some kitchen roll, its crusty and yellow and smells insane!

 

[cuck72]

Re: Sniffing underwear

I love sniffing the armpits and soiled underwear of hot guys. Not just random guy at the gym weights 300 pounds and has a hairy ass/back.

OH YES! I bet that hairy fat ass crack smells really good, would make me squirt. I also LOVE! the arm pit manly smell.

 

[angelosup]

My cousin used to live in our basement and when I was 14, he was about 27. I would find his used boxer briefs in his laundry bin while he was out at work (did a job that required a lot of labor/physical movement) and just inhale. To this day those were the best undies I ever sniffed. They were so strong. He was extremely manly and masculine and even tho he wasn’t the hottest in a traditional sense, his manliness and the way he moves (sounds odd, but like he takes up so much space) makes him so hot. He has like a thick hunky body. I still don’t understand how the scent was so strong and musky, so maybe he had worn them for several days at work. But yeah that’s basically my experience with this fetish.

 

[dudedirt]

Love sniffin dude ass. Love sniffing straight guys the best but never have the opportunity, so I enjoy digging into
My own ditch here. No limits on my end. Enjoy getting nasty with another dude over stink and natural
Shit (if you catch my drift)

31 yo here and looking for like minded chat and cam, etc.
Add me on KIK - cjbody07

 

[Thekid]

Re: I love to smell men's underwear

I have to agree and very interested.

 

[Thekid]

Looking to trade underwear with other hot guys. I am into sniffing underwear with cum, sweat and some non-deliberate skids. Anyone interested, hit me back.

I have to agree and very interested.

 

[macc23]

Thekid: I would love to sniff your underwear