I knew it was wrong.  I knew someone could walk in at any moment and catch me. But when I saw the black jock with red stripes on the floor, I immediately boned up. That was Steve’s jock. My teammate and friend. He had the biggest cock on the team.  In the showers it hung down a good seven inches, soft.  Not that it ever really got soft, Its natural, un-excited size was still thick and plump.  It was like he was always ready to fuck. 

I could not control myself, the scent of his sweaty crotch had permeated his used jockstrap. It smelled like Steve, masculine and strong, but still clean.  I started to lick the pouch, knowing my tongue was tasting the stretched out mesh that had recently supported Steve’s manhood. The moment I thought about Steve’s massive cock, I shot my load.

And that was the moment, Steve’s best friend Kevin, walked into the locker room, fresh from the showers.

“Damn Joe, I never would have taken you for a faggot.  Does Steve know your licking his lock strap?”