Brief

by robert craig

Running out of socks and underwear. Roy's collecting laundry and he picks up Bruce's briefs off the floor. He sets his armful down on the bed and checks out the tightie-whities. They're cotton low rise. The fabric is soft and well worn. There are some piss stains and the seams are slightly stained from sweat. Roy lifts the briefs to his face and inhales where Bruce's balls were tucked away. The taut cotton pouch that kept them tight. A musky smell. Seed and sweat. 

Roy takes off his jeans and underwear and slips Bruce's briefs on. They're tight in the waist and snug in the crotch. His bigger balls hang full. He stands there and rubs himself.

Then he slides his hand down the underwear and cups his balls. Aggressively squeezes. He pulls out and smells his hand. No shower this morning. A secret sweet smell. 

Roy pulls up on the waistband, snugging the fit more and bulging his balls. His pubes spill out. He starts to stiffen and stretches the thin fabric.

He hears a creaking floorboard behind him and turns around. He sees Bruce in the doorway. Watching. Hard and waiting. Slowly stroking.