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bigdumbjock

Catching feelings

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athleticsupporter

The ball ricocheted off the batter’s elbow and shot straight past my catcher’s mitt, crashing right into my cup. The pain was instant and brutal—I dropped to the ground, rolling around clutching my crotch, gasping for air. To make it worse, the fans didn’t offer sympathy—they burst out laughing. I could hear them shouting things like, “You’re supposed to catch balls, not clutch them!” and “Did your cup crack and scramble your eggs?” and “Dumb jock!” As the trainers helped me limp toward the dugout, fans started tossing peanuts at me, yelling, “Here, take some new nuts!” Every step felt more humiliating than the last.

athleticsupporter

The dumb jock catcher, completely oblivious to the spectacle he was making. His white baseball pants, stretched thin over his muscular ass, were practically transparent. The stark lines of his jockstrap were perfectly visible, framing his ass and creating a clear outline of the straps and the cup underneath. He had no idea why fans in the stands kept snickering and pointing. He just thought they were intimidated by his stance, completely unaware that his pants were broadcasting the exact position of his jockstrap to the entire stadium.