uncle-chucks-underwear-drawer-7

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Subject: Uncle Chuck’s Underwear Drawer (Part 7) Let me know if you like where this is going! Please donate to Nifty if you can. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Please do not read if you are under the legal age in your country or region. — I barely was able to fall asleep. In fact, even once I did fall asleep, I managed to wake up every time I rolled over. A few times I even got out of bed and went through my bag, making sure my briefs from the night before were still there. Indeed, each time I checked, they were there–still wet with my dad’s and my uncle’s loads from the night before. I would fall back asleep with a smile on my face. In the morning, I woke up and threw on a clean pair of briefs and a T-shirt. Given the events of the previous night, it seemed silly to have any pretense that we would be wearing clothes other than our underwear. As I walked downstairs, I looked at some of the photos Uncle Chuck had hanging in the staircase. There were some photos of him in exotic locations, then a few of him with my cousin Joey. Joey had just gone away to college and, in one of the more recent photos, was beginning to look just like a younger version of his Dad. I stepped around the corner and into the kitchen and it seemed like Dad and Uncle Chuck had felt similarly about getting dressed. Uncle Chuck was filling up his coffee mug, greeting me with the silhouette of his bulge. I didn’t need to look hard to see the upside-down Ys adorning the waistband–today was a Jockey day. On the other side of the kitchen, Dad was perched on a stool facing me, wearing just a pair of his stained Stafford briefs. Hanging off the edge of the stool was his cotton-covered bulge. He looked up from the newspaper as I stepped in the room. “Looks like you got the unspoken memo,” he said, noticing my attire. Uncle Chuck turned around and checked me out. “Not the whole memo, though,” he chimed in, stepping over to me and grabbing the bottom of my shirt. I lifted my arms up and allowed him to take it from me. “Better now?” I said, now clad in just a pair of tighty whities. “Much better.” Uncle Chuck said. He poured me a cup of coffee and I grabbed a bowl of cereal. The three of us sat at the end of the counter. If someone were to walk in and see us, it would have looked completely innocent. If they were to şişli travesti take a closer look, they would notice my erection already straining against my shorts. We talked a bit, catching up on non-underwear related things. Mostly. “So, how’s Joey?” Dad asked as he got up to grab another cup of coffee, his ass flexing visibly with each step. “He’s good. College is going well so far it seems.” Uncle Chuck said. “Actually, he was home for a few days last week.” “Oh, that’s too bad we didn’t get a chance to see him,” Dad added. “Did you have fun?” “Well, he brought along probably three months’ worth of laundry. I offered to help him out, so I was able to do a bit of recon.” I nearly dropped my mug. “I could’ve told you he doesn’t wear tighty whities,” I said. “One time he even made fun of me at a family party when he saw my waistband.” “Well, we’ve always been a Jockey family, so he’s been wearing these bright-colored Jockey boxer briefs for at least the past few years. As I was doing the laundry, I spotted some particularly messy ones and set them aside for us.” “Where are they?” I asked, rubbing myself through my shorts. “That’s not all. So, I was folding them at the table, I asked him about them. I asked him if he really liked having all that fabric rubbing up against his legs and he kind of agreed that it sometimes drove him crazy, but he couldn’t go back to his old Jockey shorts because he always remembered when he’d get excited, he’d pop right out of the fly.” “Just like his old man,” I said, looking over at my uncle’s crotch. His bulge was angled out in a way that, while he wasn’t poking out the fly, the fly was propped open for all to see within. Dad snuck a peek too. “You’re right. I told him that the same issue had been plaguing me and I’d switched it up recently. I told him I’d be happy to take him to the store and pick up some underwear that fit him better.” “What’d he say to that?” Dad asked, his hand now conspicuously absent from the table. “At first he didn’t want to and then he kind of came around. So, we went and took a stroll together down the underwear aisles. I showed him which Calvins I’d been wearing lately and he wanted a pack in his size, so we got those and headed home. We unpacked them on the table and I grabbed a marker to put his name inside the waistband of each so that we’d be able to tell the difference in the laundry.” And before either of you get any ideas, no, nothing else happened. We didn’t even line up to compare.” He then grinned. “The next day, before he left, he was in beylikdüzü travesti the shower. I went into his room and there on the floor were the brand new briefs. I took a close look at them and, sure enough, there was a fresh load in them.” Uncle Chuck pulled a plastic bag out of the drawer and emptied it out. The three of us stood up to get a better look at the three pairs of underwear that came out. Two were boxer briefs with a black waistband with JOCKEY in massive print. One pair was red and the other was a pattern of alternating stripes in different shades of blue. The third pair had the same Calvin Klein waistband that Uncle Chuck had, but inside the waistband I saw JOEY written in black marker. All three had pretty clear white stains on them. I grabbed one of the pairs of boxer briefs and brought it to my nose. The scent was a bit stale, but unmistakably manly. My dad grabbed the briefs and licked the yellowing patch on the front. I looked down and spotted the full glob of precum that had seeped through the fabric of his undies. I then looked to Uncle Chuck who, upon standing, had inadvertently forced his boner out of the top of his Y-front fly. I reached into my shorts and began to stroke myself. “What if we headed over to the couch?” I asked. “Looks like we’ve all got some pressing issues to deal with.” I started walking to the couch, followed by the men. I sat in the middle and they quickly took a spot on either side of me. Without saying anything, I handed Dad the shorts I was sniffing and he passed over the Calvins. Meanwhile, Uncle Chuck hadn’t bothered tucking his dick away and, instead, had clearly begun jerking himself. Dad took this cue to pull his waistband and tuck it beneath his sack, framing his goods in black and gold stripes. I also pulled the front of my Fruit of the Looms down, slipping the waistband beneath my own balls. We were now all three exposed, Uncle Chuck’s boner out the fly of his Jockeys and Dad and I with ours propped up by our waistbands. My left thigh was pressed into my Dad’s and my right was pressed into Uncle Chuck’s. I lay my cousin Joey’s dirty briefs across my face and inhaled. Damn, he smelled just like his dad. I began to stroke myself, looking over to watch Dad and Uncle Chuck do the same. After a few minutes, I felt a hand around mine and looked down to see it was Dad’s. I removed my hand and let him take over. Uncle Chuck took his hand from his own cock and began to grope my balls. I used opportunity to extend both of my hands and grab each of their dicks. istanbul travesti So that’s how we sat there: Dad with his nephew’s cumstained boxer briefs on his face and his son’s dick in his hand, Uncle Chuck with his son’s dirty shorts on his own face and his nephew’s balls in his hand, and me with my cousin’s filthy tighty whities in my mouth and my hand wrapped around my Dad’s and my uncle’s huge dicks. Pretty soon, both of my hands were gliding with ease as Dad and Uncle Chuck leaked equal amounts of precum. Dad and Uncle Chuck were trading off between stroking me and caressing my balls. I took my thumbs and rubbed them all over Dad and Uncle Chuck’s dickheads, causing them both to moan. Uncle Chuck was nearly choking on the pair of his son’s underwear that he had stuffed in his mouth. Dad wasn’t doing too much better, hyperventilating with each huff. I kept up my pace, knowing they wouldn’t be too far off. Finally, they let out sort of matching groans. I slapped my hand up and down each of their shafts one more time and, on the downstroke, they both burst. The first few shots volleyed up and splattered on them–Dad’s on his stomach, Uncle Chuck’s onto the waistband of his briefs. The rest of their loads sort of drooled out, slipping down their boners and pooling in my hands. In the heat of the moment, they’d both slowed down on me. But, as they came down from their high, they got back to work. I slipped my hands up each of their shafts, getting a generous portion of Dad’s jizz between the forefinger and thumb of my left hand and Uncle Chuck’s on my right. I brought them to my mouth, licking at them each separately, both still hot on my tongue. Dad’s hand was flying up and down my shaft as he watched the show, proudly jerking his own son off as he sipped the load that had created him. I finally licked the last of each and thrust into my dad’s fist. Uncle Chuck brought his mouth near, catching the first shot right in his mouth. I kept spraying and Dad did the same, getting so close to my dickhead as he got some of my cum on his lips. He licked them, continuing to stroke every last ounce out of me. Finally, I was done. He took his hand, soaked in his son’s jizz, and wiped it on his Staffords, pulling up the waistband to cover up his softened cock. “Damn, boys. That was good.” Dad said, “Thanks for scoring up some of your son’s shorts, Chuck.” “Any time!” Uncle Chuck responded, pulling the front of his fly up to get himself contained. The bit of his cum left on his cock left a print on the front of his undies. “Now that that’s over with, want to head downstairs? I was thinking we could go for a swim this afternoon.” Sitting on the couch with my cock and balls still on display and my mouth still sticky from my dad’s and uncle’s loads, I spoke up. “A swim would be fantastic.”

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