Chapter 5

Recap: Cody wakes up wrecked from the night before, only to find Brad in the kitchen acting way too casual. Turns out Brad knows Cody found his spicy Twitter and doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he’s amused. Maybe even flattered. And when Brad mentions a new jockstrap he’s supposed to model, he hits Cody with a bold offer: “Wanna help me shoot?”

Brad had said it so casually. Like we were talking about filming a TikTok and not a custom jockstrap video for horny strangers online. “Wanna help me shoot some content?”

I could have laughed. I could have made a joke, called him a slut, walked away. But I didn’t. I said, “Sure,” like it was no big deal. Like I hadn’t just spent the entire night rock hard thinking about his dick straining inside red fabric.

No problem. Just a little filming. Totally chill.

Now he was standing in our shared bedroom,, the curtains slightly parted to let in a soft stream of natural light. Brad didn’t say a word, he just turned his back to me, slid his trunks down slow, and kicked them off without a glance.

He faced the mirror and bent slightly, reaching for the jockstrap on the dresser. His bare ass filled my vision. Broad and solid. Perfect round shape, the kind that looked sculpted. Every muscle shifted when he moved. The lighting caught the dip of his spine, the curve under each cheek. He didn’t even glance back at me. Just bent over and stepped into the straps like I wasn’t standing three feet away, rock hard.

The blue fabric stretched as he pulled it up. Snug and unforgiving. The back straps slid under each cheek and pulled everything up. Tight. Full. My eyes locked on the way his ass sat inside the jock. High. Thick. Like he wanted me to look. Wanted me to get hard.

I was already there.

Brad adjusted the front pouch with a casual palm. The jock cupped his bulge perfectly. Thick shape pressing forward, the fabric just sheer enough to hint at the shape beneath. I saw the outline shift when he moved. The head of his cock nudged the pouch like it needed space.

“Start recording?” he asked, still not looking at me.

“Yeah. Got it.”

“Make sure it’s angled a little lower,” he said without looking at me.

My hands moved automatically. Adjusting the tilt. Lining him up in the frame. Trying not to look as flustered as I felt.

I tried to focus on the phone. But he was in the frame. Shirtless. Jockstrapped. Facing the mirror. Arms flexed slightly at his sides. He squatted once, slow and deep. His thighs stretched. The fabric tightened around his ass, digging in just enough to frame it. Then he stood again, glancing at the mirror, adjusting his waistband like it wasn’t doing something to me.

“Steven likes squats,” Brad said. “And ass shots. Said I’ve got the build for it.”

He wasn’t wrong.

He squatted again, slower this time. Feet planted. Back straight. His ass pushed back toward the camera. Toward me. The straps slid along his skin, tightening around the base of each cheek. It looked obscene. Way too good. My cock throbbed in my sweats.

“You’re quiet,” Brad said, catching my eyes in the mirror.

I coughed. “Just making sure it’s all framed right.”