Alex Bralmy
Jockstrap lover / Bulge worshiper
Hey guys-
My guiding fetish has always been—and happily remains—one for men’s underwear: white briefs and tee-shirts, tube socks and wifebeaters. Not very advanced or experimental, but it runs deep. Think summer-camp bunkhouse mixed with the underwear pages from a Sears catalog and you’ve got my number.
It wasn’t until the 9th grade that I saw my first jockstrap in the flesh. And man, it was grade-A. I don’t remember his name, but I’ll never forget the sight of him. He was a senior, dark haired and athletic. A stacked young man entering his prime with a fine, full pelt of brown chest hair that trailed down to and below the waistband of a Bike-type jockstrap. He was the first true, real man I ever saw naked, or nearly so. I stared a split second too long. He caught it and returned it with sharp, sideways head tilt and air kiss. I knew he was being dismissive, but he was also being kind at the same time. He could have outed me in a locker room full of older boys, but instead he privately acknowledged my worshipful gaze with a nonchalant and unspoken “yeah little fucker- I know you want this and I don’t blame you one bit”.
That experience, which lasted literally just seconds, branded me a jock lover for life, and continues to be batefuel for the more than 30 years after.
It wasn’t until I was maybe 18 or so that I bought my first jock. I remember getting up my courage and stopping into a number of sporting goods stores in a single day, looking at all the options, and selecting one from each shop. I certainly didn’t want to draw attention to myself by buying two at a time. But I’m sure in each case my less-than Cool Joe demeanor (not to mention a raging, seeping hardon) signaled what my true intentions were when I got home. Sure, it was a workout, but nothing like the kind the sales clerk could ever have imagined.
Anyway, that’s my story. It’s been great fun sharing smutty photos with you guys, and hope to do more. Everytime it kind of brings me back to being a 14 year old kid, with all the excitement of seeing my first fully packed jock, and wondering just what kind of mess we could get into.
My guiding fetish has always been—and happily remains—one for men’s underwear: white briefs and tee-shirts, tube socks and wifebeaters. Not very advanced or experimental, but it runs deep. Think summer-camp bunkhouse mixed with the underwear pages from a Sears catalog and you’ve got my number.
It wasn’t until the 9th grade that I saw my first jockstrap in the flesh. And man, it was grade-A. I don’t remember his name, but I’ll never forget the sight of him. He was a senior, dark haired and athletic. A stacked young man entering his prime with a fine, full pelt of brown chest hair that trailed down to and below the waistband of a Bike-type jockstrap. He was the first true, real man I ever saw naked, or nearly so. I stared a split second too long. He caught it and returned it with sharp, sideways head tilt and air kiss. I knew he was being dismissive, but he was also being kind at the same time. He could have outed me in a locker room full of older boys, but instead he privately acknowledged my worshipful gaze with a nonchalant and unspoken “yeah little fucker- I know you want this and I don’t blame you one bit”.
That experience, which lasted literally just seconds, branded me a jock lover for life, and continues to be batefuel for the more than 30 years after.
It wasn’t until I was maybe 18 or so that I bought my first jock. I remember getting up my courage and stopping into a number of sporting goods stores in a single day, looking at all the options, and selecting one from each shop. I certainly didn’t want to draw attention to myself by buying two at a time. But I’m sure in each case my less-than Cool Joe demeanor (not to mention a raging, seeping hardon) signaled what my true intentions were when I got home. Sure, it was a workout, but nothing like the kind the sales clerk could ever have imagined.
Anyway, that’s my story. It’s been great fun sharing smutty photos with you guys, and hope to do more. Everytime it kind of brings me back to being a 14 year old kid, with all the excitement of seeing my first fully packed jock, and wondering just what kind of mess we could get into.
