I was never much of a sportsman and at 17, in our small farm community, if you did not play ball something or run track, there was not much room for you. I did swim and enjoyed that almost as much as the locker room. At 17 I stood 5'5" had hazel eyes and bleached blond hair. I also knew I liked boys more than I liked girls. I lived with my brothers on a bit of acreage close enough to my grandmother's farm to say I lived on a farm, so I usually sported a nice tan, at least from the waist up. When I was not swimming an event, or dreaming about what was hiding in those Speedos, I help the coach with the split sheets. I had a thing for numbers and usually had the sheets done before the team was out of the locker room. One of the other swimmers, Jason, suggested I help the football coach as well. It usually took him almost a week to get the stat sheets done for the football team and the players didn't like that much. I talked with the coach and soon found myself with a job of sorts. I was the student 'manager' and started that week. Besides keeping the stats, I was responsible for doing laundry, keeping towels in the locker room, and helping the trainer do the pre-game and post-game wraps and unwraps. More time in the locker room so I wasn't complaining. Dad was happy as well, I wasn't playing, but I was at least working with the football team.
I wasn't complaining I got to see all those naked boys, Big linemen, slender running backs and all those in between. Not to mention all those cocks, big, small, slender, mostly small and shriveled, but some were more than just plump. Not plump enough for 'fag' jokes, but plump enough I noticed. Then when the locker room filled with all the usual talk, what girls had big tits, which ones put out, which ones gave the best head, etc. Most of the cocks got bigger anyway; I had more than enough JO material. At the end of the season, I had to inventory all the equipment and that meant everything. He handed me the list and keys and wished me luck. I had dreams about being alone in the locker room, but this wasn't exactly what I imagined.
I started with locker 1, which belonged to our quarterback, James. He stood almost 6 feet tall, wavy blonde hair, nice defined body and a nice set of balls and a dusting of fur over his 40" chest. His cock was usually small and stayed that way even with all the girl talk. Let's see, helmet, check, pads, check, 2 practice jerseys, check, 3 game shirts, check, cup and jock, check and check cleats, check. Locker 2, back-up quarterback, wait I have not done laundry yet, the QB jock was worn for practice today, I went back, picked it up, sniffed. Oh that wonderful smell of male sweat, fresh teen jock smell. I turned it inside out, and tasted the inner pouch, sweat, piss, and cum? Maybe, but probably just wishful thinking. I rubbed my stiffening cock, I thought about jacking off real quick, sniffed and tasted the jock again, and thought better of it. I had to get this stuff counted, and if I stopped and jacked off when I felt like it, I'd never get done. Ok back to locker 2, pads, jerseys', cup, jock, helmet, cleats, all there. Locker three, same routine, locker four, locker five, locker six, locker seven, locker eight, all the same all there. This wasn't so bad, just keep my mind on the task at hand, ignore the jocks and I'd be done before the teams was finished with their study hall. Then I hit Jason's locker, he had everything and an extra jockstrap. The number indicated it belonged to Robert, one of the running backs. Suddenly I was back in fantasy world again. Jason and Robert looked like brothers and hung out like brothers. They did everything together; they took the same classes, double dated, and even showered together. However, so did the rest of the team. However, I took things one-step further, those double dates, the girls got ignored and they did each other. Their study time was more than bookwork, and well I imagined the things those two were up to. Now I had their jocks, I turned them inside out, and stuck them in my mouth. I closed my eyes and imagined them forcing me to suck on their balls while they stroked their cocks. I rubbed my stiff 7" cock, pulled it out and gave it a stroke. I spit on my hand and rubbed it around my head, fished my balls out and gave them a good squeeze. I closed my eyes and went back to my fantasy. Jason and Robert now had their asses in my face, and were making my lick and suck their sweaty holes. I was getting close, I could smell their fresh game day sweat on the jocks, I could taste their balls on the pouch, I imagined them ordering me to lick their pits, suck their balls, and ... Oh God here I cum ... Then
"What the Fuck man!!" my fantasy world collapsed. There stood James. I hadn't heard the door or him until it was too late. There I was one hand wrapped around my cock, the other squeezing my balls, and two jockstraps in my mouth. I pulled the jocks free and tossed them into the locker. "Nothing's going on, I needed to get off." I replied.
"Dude, there's getting off and then there's weird. This was defiantly weird."
"Sorry I thought I was alone and..." that's when I noticed he was staring at my still hard and exposed cock. "So, James, you like looking at my cock?"
"Huh? What? NO. Well not in that way, it's just different than mine, and I don't usually get the chance to see another guy hard. You're not as thick as I am, but a lot longer"