A Customized Jockstrap Part 2
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This story is partially fiction and partially fact. Play safe out there. Needy subs who get off on thinking about an alpha's jockstrap can contact me with their own needs and offers of submission or ideas for how the jockstrap can be used.
The jockstrap preparation for the bottom submissive continues.
My jockstrap was still wet from pissing through it earlier in the day for the online faggot I had chatted with who told me he just had to have my jockstrap that I had pissed and cum in. I told him for what he paid me, I'd wear the same one four days straight, piss in it once or twice a day and shoot a load of cum in it every night. I wasn't even going to shower for those four days either.
Might as well really get it all ripened up for him.
I had an email from the faggot after I had eaten supper. He told me his cock had gotten hard all day thinking about holding my dirty jockstrap when it arrived. He could not wait to rub it all over his body and get my scent all over him. He hoped it arrived slightly damp. I emailed him that I would send it as fast as I could--overnight mail if he could up his payment by $50. I had the money in my account within two minutes. Submissive must have been sitting right there waiting for me to email him.
Finally it was time for me to go to bed. I wore my jockstrap (still damp from the total piss I took through it outdoors and the dribbles I never shook off the other times I pissed), and a pair of sweats to bed. I needed to shoot a load of cum in the damp white jockstrap. While I liked to watch submissive porn, my mind returned to a trip I had taken a few years ago to a suburb of Atlanta.
After checking into the hotel, I decided to go down to the fitness center and get in a workout before ordering something to eat, finishing some work and looking for a submissive online that I could fuck before bed. I only wore a very loose fitting pair of fairly short shorts and a jockstrap. It was hot, had been hot all day and I didn't see the need for a shirt. I was only going to work out. I didn't look bad for my age and really didn't care who saw me anyway. The shorts barely covered the straps of my jock, but I didn't care. My buddy told me I looked like a bottom in those shorts. I told him that I liked to feel the air around my crotch--need to air the boys out in my jockstrap I told him.
So I got on one of the running machines to start my workout. I was alone in the room to begin with but before long another guy came in and started using the treadmill. I was on the weight bench, giving him a show no doubt. It aroused me to be seen. It was even more arousing to be watched. The guy took fleeting looks at me as I went through my routine. He wasn't looking at what I was doing as much as he was looking at my crotch. It motivated me to get through the workout.
I had to piss like no other when I was done and I went in the men's room and stood intentionally at the middle of three urinals. I felt like pissing through my jockstrap instead of pulling my cock out. To make less mess--although I'm not certain why I even cared--I pulled my skimpy shorts up and exposed my jock pouch. Just as I was pulling the shorts up so I could piss, my workout buddy came in and stood at the urinal next to me. I was 500 miles from home. I didn't care how this guy saw me piss.
So with one leg of the shorts pulled up, I started to piss right there through my jockstrap. I was standing close enough to the urinal so most of my piss would go into it, but I was far enough back that a wondering eye would see what I was doing. I was standing a little further from the urinal than usual, so that anyone walking in could see that my cock was not out. The guy took his cock out to piss and then I saw him look down at my crotch.
Faggot.
I had to take a wicked piss and a second later I started pissing my jockstrap. I wanted him to see and I pulled back slightly further than I had to start with. It didn't really matter to me if the piss got in the urinal or not at this point. The warmth on my cock and balls felt so good and my stream was slightly blocked by the jockstrap's pouch that was holding my cock and balls. Some sprayed out into the urinal, but a fair amount dripped down from the bottom of the jockstrap's pouch onto the floor. Good thing I was standing with my feet far apart. It was then that I noticed the guy next to me was still looking at my crotch and how I was pissing. I looked at him and smiled. As I finished, I grabbed my pouch and shook off the piss that was dripping.
The guy standing next to me wasn't intimidating at all. He looked down every time I caught him staring at my crotch. I asked him "like the show?"
He smiled.
I said "come over here."
"I know you want to. You want to."
He stepped over to me. Putting my hands on his shoulders, I pushed him to his knees.
"Open your mouth."
He did. This was too easy.
"Clean my jockstrap."
The minute his mouth hit my jockstrap, my dick stiffened a little more and twitched. I rubbed my cock against his mouth and some of the piss dripped on him and some to the floor. I grabbed his head and rubbed the pouch of my strap on his face to mark him. "Suck the piss out of it."
And he did. Faggot. I was so hard standing in front of a urinal with a guy on his knees getting the piss out of my jockstrap. He teased the head of my cock with his mouth. This was not his first time. I pulled my dick out and shoved it down his throat. I needed to get some work done and didn't have time for a leisurely blow job. This guy was serving a purpose as I grabbed his head and started facefucking him right there in the hotel's fitness center restroom. The next thing I knew I was blasting a load down his throat. I pulled out, wiped my cock on his face, put my cock back in my still wet jockstrap, put my shorts back down and said "good job faggot." I left him there on his knees with a face smelling like manpiss and a streak of cum on his face.
The memory of the event had my own cock stiff in my jock now as I lay in bed. Remembering how easy it was to get that submissive to suck my cock had me so hard.
As I remembered the hotness of the somewhat public blow job I started stroking my cock through my jockstrap. While I wanted to pull my cock out, I didn't. I knew that when I blew this load it needed to be in the jockstrap I was preparing to mail to the faggot who had paid me for my cummy pissy jockstrap. It was a sacrifice I would have to make. The memory of the blow job had me so aroused--not just because I blew a load down a random guy's throat but because of what I remember happening afterwards. My thoughts returned to the events of that night after I left the men's room in the hotel fitness center.
We'll see what memory made me finally lose my nut in that jockstrap I was preparing for the faggot and what I was planning on having him do when he finally got my jockstrap in the mail. Submissives who feel the need can email me at derrick1968mwm@gmail.com