My roommate had this infuriating habit of stripping down to just his jockstrap the second he was home, parading around like he owned the place. When I finally asked him about it, he just grunted that "real men wear jocks," claiming it let his junk breathe without being indecent. It was torture. I couldn't stop staring at the way the pouch strained to contain him, a dark, wiry forest of pubic hair escaping from the sides. I wasn't into dudes, it was just morbid curiosity, but my eyes were constantly glued to the heavy, swinging weight of it, wondering just how much cock was packed in there. I'd catch myself imagining what it looked like soft, what it looked like hard, and I'd have to adjust myself. It's normal for guys to compare, right?




















