Locker Thief

By Harry Rod

Published on May 30, 2008

Gay

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I guess it all started my senior year in high school. I was that nerdy guy with glasses that wasn't a member of anyone's clique. Well, maybe the clique of no-one-else-will-talk-to-us-so-we-might-as-well-talk-to-each-other clique. You know - your basic outcast.

I had held off taking P.E. as long as I could, until my senior year. Had to have it to graduate. So I gritted my teeth and took the damn class. And yeah, I was the kind of guy who sat in his bedroom on Friday and Saturday nights jerking off, while everyone else was out on dates. Not that I didn't jerk off every other night as well. And most mornings, and whenever else I could manage it. I loved the feeling! What a rush!

I am 5 feet 8 inches, but skinny. Reddish brown hair, that I keep kind of shaggy, trying to be with it. I don't tan well, so I am your basic freckled, pale, white-skinned kid. And I guess, from checking out porn on the web sites, my dick was about average - six and three-quarters of an inch long. I kept measuring to see if I couldn't get that extra quarter of an inch.

So any how, I was in the locker room changing. I usually waited as long as I could, so I didn't have to be seen naked by the other guys, who all looked like they came out of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog.

The guy at the locker near mine had stripped, showered, dried off, and dressed while I was still managing to take off my shoes and socks. One of his friends called him, so he quickly stuffed his gear in his bag and ran to catch up.

I looked over, and there was his jock lying on the floor. I don't know what possessed me, but I looked around, and then, when I saw that no one was around, reached down to pick it up . I quickly stuck it into my gym bag, and changed clothes. No shower for the geek; too many gawkers, and guys who would make fun of me.

P.E. was my last class, so I headed out and caught the bus home. On the way, I wondered about the jock I had, and what the guy would think when he didn't find it when he got home.

When I got home, no one else was there, as usual. I have no brothers or sisters, and my parents work. So I pretty much have the house to myself every afternoon until 6 pm. Sometimes I fixed dinner, but most of the time, they brought it home with them.

I went upstairs to my room and set down the gym bag, quickly unzipping it, and pulled out the jock, or THE jock. It was still damp from his sweat. And had a strong odor to it. I lifted it up to my nose and inhaled. Wow! What a great smell! It went to my head, like weed does. I had tried some when one of the other geeks offered to share. It was my one and only experience with it.

Man, this was wild. And then I looked and saw some pubic hairs in the pouch. That got me to thining that his cock and balls had been right there. Now, at this point in my life, I had no clue to my sexuality. I loved sex, and I loved porn, and I loved my fist. That was the extent of my sexuality.

But something about his sweaty jock got to me, and turned me on. I started squeezing my cock through my jeans, as I closed my eyes and inhaled more of the smell. There was a muskiness, along with the smell of sweat; strong masculine sweat.

I was rock hard now and eager to jerk my cock. I was never one for delayed satisfaction. When I wanted it, I jerked off. In school, if the urge hit, I would get excused to the toilet. I would go into a stall and start jerking. And in moments was shooting my jizz into the toilet bowl.

So I undid my jeans and pulled them down, along with my white briefs. I grabbed my dick in my left hand, and started stroking while I held the jock to my face with the other hand.

When I was getting close and could feel that wonderful overwhelming rush, I dropped the jock to my left and stroked my cock with it. Man, this was so hot! I was shooting in to some guy's jock! I blasted cum like I hadn't in a long time.

When I was done, and my breathing was returning to normal. I wiped up all the cum with the jock and put it in the top of my closet.

That jock became my talisman and my cum rag. I couldn't wait to get home in the afternoon to jerk off with it. I would think about it all day long and be hard by the time I got off of the bus.

But as more and more of my cum accumulated in it, it lost more and more of `his' smell. It just began to smell more and more like that bleachy cum smell. I still knew that it had cradled his cock and balls, but it didn't smell like it anymore.

That put me onto the task of trying to get another one. It took me a couple of days until the opportunity was just right. A guy near me had stripped and headed off to the showers; his jock was lying on the floor just a foot or so from my feet.

I bent down and scooped it up as I picked up my shoes and socks. Then I stuffed it into my gym bag and changed as fast I could, so I could be out of there before he returned.

On the bus ride home, I had to keep the gym bag over my lap, because I was so hard, thinking about jerking off with this new jock.

I ran off the bus, and the block to my house. Upstairs, I stripped off my clothes, while trying to pull the jock out of the bag. I was still hard from anticipation when I stuck it to my nose.

The smell was different, but just as heady. I jerked quickly and feverishly, inhaling as much as I could with each deep breath. Fuck! That was so hot!

I shot a huge load across my floor in a short time. As I bent to wipe it up with this jock, I decided to save it. I dug the other one out of the top of my closet and scooped up the cum. Then I ran downstairs, grabbed a plastic zip bag and ran upstairs, where I stuffed the jock in it, pressing the air out (inhaling of course), and sealed it.

So the two of them lasted me the rest of the year. I would lie in bed and fantasize about the guys putting their jocks on in front of me. Or I would think of them removing them, and then shoving my head into their crotch.

Just before the school year ended, I managed to snag another one...and I knew I was hooked. I 'made' my parents get me a gym membership for the summer - they thought it was great that their introverted son wanted to work out. Little did they know.

I was scared shitless the first couple of times at the gym. These weren't high school kids. These were men, and they could beat the shit out of me, if I was caught. But I was cautious, and managed to snag three over the summer. That, along with the smell of sweat that was redolent in the work out rooms, kept me horny all summer long.

My freshman year at college, they assigned me a roommate from hell. The only thing that was good about sharing a room with him was that he was a jock, sweated all the time, and was not often in the room. So I would scavenge through his clothes when he was gone, and find the sweatiest to jerk off with.

I visited the men's locker rooms at least once a day, scouting for abandoned jocks, and I managed to score several. I now had a collection that I kept under lock and key. It contained sealed bag after sealed bag with sweaty jocks in them.

I developed a classification system for them, based on a smell rating of 1 -- 10 - dinginess, rankness (hash marks on the straps or the juncture of the straps and the pouch), number of pubic hairs, cum stains, piss stains, etc.

In my sophomore year, I expanded. I started taking whole gym outfits: shorts, shirt, jocks, and socks. I would wear the outfits while I was smelling another one. I now had a room to myself, so I would sit at my desk with a jock over my face, surfing porn and jerking. My tastes in porn had naturally switched to men in jocks, sports attire, and underwear.

Soon, I was stealing underwear as well.; I tried to get a wide selection. Every time I saw a new brand or style, I had to figure out how to steal it.

By my junior year, I was taking everything. I would wait until guys headed to the showers, leaving their lockers open, and scoop up everything. I would leave wallets, watches, cell phones, and money wrapped up in a scrap of t-shirt or something.

I would get a hard on, wondering how the guys were going to get home without any clothes. Sometimes I would sit outside the gym and see if I could spot them. Most of the time, I would see some guy heading toward the locker room, carrying some clothes, and then he would come out with my victim.

Twice, I saw guys come out wrapped in a towel, and head to their dorm.

I started putting the cell phones at the towel desk. The owners would eventually get it, but it created more chances of seeing near-naked men departing the locker room. One creative guy came out wearing a t-shirt. He had his legs through the arm holes, and was holding it closed at his waist.

Sometimes I would nonchalantly walk back through the locker room while the victim was searching his lockers for his clothes.

I now had a trunk full of clothes, and would dress up in them, sleep in them, wear some guy's underwear to class, etc.

Then I discovered naughtybid.com and found out I could sell the used underwear at great prices. That only fed my need for more and more.

I felt like a clepto; I just couldn't help myself. I got to where I was hiking the locker room two or three times a day.

And of course, that was my downfall. They set a trap. They left a locker open with all the clothes piled on the floor in front of it. When I went to scoop it up, 8 guys came around the corner of the lockers -- four from each end. There was no place to run.

"So you are the asshole that has been stealing our clothes! What are you? Some pervert who likes to smell men's underwear?" They said it with such disdain in their voices, that I felt terrible. I was caught! I was embarrassed and ashamed.

They grabbed me, and held me down while my clothes were stripped from me. When I was naked, they held me up and walked up and down each aisle of the locker room shouting, "Here is the locker thief." Over and over, and everyone now knew who the thief was.

Then it was out the doors of the locker room. I was kicking and thrashing to no avail. They carried me out at shoulder height and continued their chant.

On and on through the campus, gathering quite a crowd of laughing and jeering students. In the center of the quad, they dumped me in the fountain. It was cold, and I was huddling in the shallow water, trying to hide my crotch.

The guys stood around and the crowd gathered. "Now you have to walk back to your dorm. When you get there, we'll give you your keys, wallet, and cell phone. But we are keeping your cash and a credit card. You'll get it back once we have all replaced our stolen clothes."

I couldn't believe this was happening to me. I was dying. I couldn't do this, but I didn't have a lot of choice. I climbed out with my hands clasped over my crotch and started back to my dorm. A corridor opened in the crowd, and they continued to line the path all the way back to the dorm.

There were hoots, jeers, and laughter as I ran along. I saw cell phones up taking pictures.

Several people reached out to pull my hands away from my crotch, so everyone could see me completely naked.

Just as I was about to reach the dorm, a guy stepped out, tossed me his jacket, and told everyone to fuck off. I nearly cried as I wrapped his jacket around the front of me and tied the arms behind me.

There was an uproar as the crowd complained, but I guess they felt they had gotten justice, because they drifted away.

"Thanks," I said to the guy who had handed me the jacket.

"Hi. No problem. My name's Jay." Then he leaned in and said, "And I like to steal jocks as well!" He smiled, and I knew I had found a friend!

Comments, suggestions, sharing your experiences and photos are always welcome -- harryrod575@yahoo.com

Have fun

harry

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