Subject: Uncle Chuck’s Underwear Drawer (Part Two) 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. — A week after the barbecue, I was sitting in my apartment watching TV when my buzzer went off. It was the sort of thing that usually meant some kids were pranking the building, but I still felt the need to go check it out. I pressed the talk button. “Who’s there?” I asked. “Hey, Ryan, it’s your Uncle Chuck.” Certainly not who I expected to hear on the other end. My heart raced. He’d come over once when I’d first moved in, but his house was far enough away that it wasn’t really like he’d just stop over for a beer. “Come on up,” I said, pressing the button that unlocked the front door. I quickly ran around the studio, tidying things up as best I could in the few minutes before he got upstairs. I then heard a knock at the door. When I opened it, there stood Uncle Chuck. He was about my height and had similar build to me, if maybe a bit bigger. “So are you gonna let me in?” He asked with a laugh, stepping across the threshold. “Come on in,” I said after the fact. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” he said, surveying some of my decorations. “It’s small, but it serves its purpose,” I told him, walking over to my bed and sitting down. “So what brings you over?” Uncle Chuck reached in his pocket and pulled out what I instantly recognized as his briefs. “Care to explain these?” They must have been the Calvins I’d filled. I decided to play dumb. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I tried. He shook his head and unfolded them like a gift. He then held the crotch in one hand and the ass in the other, stretching forth the spot I’d fucked. “Well, I didn’t use my own underwear to wipe up a mess. But, after I followed you up to my room during the party last week, I went in after you headed back outside. It didn’t take me long to figure out what you’d been up to…the underwear drawer wasn’t full closed and the lid to the hamper was off. And, to my surprise, şişli travesti these were on top, soaking wet.” I thought I could die right then and there. Even just looking at the briefs, you could see the way the fabric stuck together unnaturally. “How long have you been doing it?” He asked. When I barely looked up, let alone replied, he came closer. “And be honest.” I held my breath, unsure how to proceed. My mind kept saying deny, deny, deny, but I knew the jig was up. “Probably five years…” I finally uttered, a flush overcoming my face. My eyes watered. “Don’t cry! I’m only wondering how it took me this long to find out.” He sat down on the bed next to me. I looked up at him, his face had a smile on it. He’d put the briefs to the side. “I’m sure this time was a bit of a surprise to you, then.” “How?” I asked, before remembering the difference. “Oh, yeah…what’s up with the Calvin Kleins? You’ve always been a Jockey guy.” I asked him, in full disbelief that we were having this conversation. “Well, I love my Jockeys, as you’ve probably been able to tell. But lately, I’ve started falling out of that fly a lot more, so I wanted something that kept me a bit more covered up.” He shrugged, as this were the most normal conversation he’d ever had. . “Anything else in that drawer you wanted to ask about?” “Well you had the Jockeys and the Calvins, but there was a random pair in the back. The Staffords?” “Ah,” he patted my on the shoulder, “You discovered the holy grail. You see, you and I aren’t that different. But instead of going through my uncle’s underwear drawer, I’ve always gone through your dad’s.” I thought my jaw was going to fall off. “So, those were Dad’s Staffords?” “You never went through his stuff? I’m flattered.” “I’ve never really had the chance. The distance and all…I haven’t really seen him much since I got into all of this.” “Well, I’ve had a few decades of practice. That pair you found came when I visited him last month. Fresh out of the laundry…I hope you had a chance to try them out.” “I was a bit rushed.” I admitted. “Fair enough. Well, maybe someday you’ll get the chance…either at his place or in my drawers.” His face contorted into a smile. “You mean I’m not in trouble?” I asked. “Oh god, of course not. Help yourself beylikdüzü travesti whenever you want. However, now that you’ve gone through all of my stuff, I feel like I should have the chance to return the favor.” He got off the bed and walked over to my dresser. I sat there in shock, watching as he opened my top drawer. “Oh, okay…no disappointment here.” He said as he pulled out a pair of my Fruit of the Looms. “Although I’m a bit surprised there aren’t any of mine in here.” “I always return them.” “Well, it’s always one clean and one dirty, right? Let’s see what we have over here.” He walked over to the laundry bin I had on the other side of the room. As soon as he bent over to look through, I remembered what I had in there. It was the cumrag Jockeys I’d been filling multiple times a day since the party. When he exclaimed, “Holy shit!” I realized that he’d found them. He held them up, a look of awe on his face. “You put these to good use!” I couldn’t even utter a reply. I just nodded. He walked back over to me, grabbing the pair of my clean briefs he’d taken out before. “Do you mind if I run to the bathroom?” he asked, holding my clean Fruits in one hand and the crusty shorts I’d stolen from him, gesturing his head toward to the door. I felt like I was going to throw up while he was gone. I’d just come clean about my dirtiest secret and, not only was it greeted with excitement, but my uncle was currently in my bathroom jerking off while sniffing my cumrag. My boner was uncontainable and itched to be released, but I knew it had to wait. He could be back at any minute. While I waited, I sat on the bed, running my thumb and forefinger along the waistband of the Calvins I’d filled at the barbecue. I pried them open and inhaled, imagining my load’s sweet odor was actually that of my uncles. I then placed them back down, just to be sure he didn’t walk in on me–as if that would even matter at this point. When Uncle Chuck returned, I was just sitting there. His face was a bit red, but he looked relaxed. He had two pairs in his hands. “How was it?” I asked him, my dick flexing in my pants. “How do you think it was?” He asked, lifting up his shirt to reveal the blue line I saw every day. “Like uncle, like nephew.” He smiled. That left the undies istanbul travesti in his hands. “Do you mind if we trade? I kind of want these Jockeys back, but you could have the Calvins I wore over here today.” He wanted back his shorts that I’d soaked with my jizz. I couldn’t even imagine what he was going to do with them. “Sure, that sounds good.” “Here you go,” he tossed the Calvins next to me on the bed. “And you can keep that pair from the other day. Maybe start a collection.” “Thanks Uncle Chuck.” “No problem. It’s getting a bit late though, so I’m going to hit the road.” I stood up to say goodbye and he pulled me into a hug. My boner poked against his leg and he jumped away in mock horror. “Better take care of that! I’m sure you’ll have no problem,” nodding his head at the pair of his tighty whities on my bed. “I’m sure. Thanks again.” No sooner had Uncle Chuck walked out the door than my jeans were on the floor. My cock had practically poked a hole in my Fruit of the Looms. I pulled them down to my thighs and got in the bed. I grabbed the fresh pair of Uncle Chuck’s briefs and, touching them for the first time, realized they were wet. I peeled open the fly and there were still globs of cum between the two flaps of the fly. I began jerking myself, holding the fabric to my face and letting my tongue take his fluid in. I pulled my own waistband down, tucked it beneath my balls, and began to jerk myself. Not only was the load Uncle Chuck had left still wet, it was still warm. I knew I would last long, so I switched my attention to the inside of the crotch, closer to where his balls had sat, and sniffed. It was the same scent I’d grown used to over the years, but stronger and more powerful–fresh. My dickhead was red and throbbing as I thrust it in and out of my fist. My nose was buried in cotton, with the wet top of his fly resting on my forehead like Uncle Chuck had blessed me himself. I could feel myself getting close, so I returned my focus to Chuck’s cum, spreading the fly again and sticking my tongue inside. I slurped down the last bits I could of the load he’d left for me and finally my dick exploded. Jet after jet after jet of cum sprayed forth, soaking my chest and stomach. I was tempted to wipe it up with the Calvins, but I knew I’d want to preserve his taste and scent for next time, so I grabbed some tissues from the side of the bed and cleaned myself up. I laid in bed for a moment before tucking myself back into my briefs and carefully folding up my uncle’s gift to enjoy again later.