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Bookmark Sign Up Log In. Recently Viewed Videos. Institutional Encounters. Claud A and Jacob A awesome g Welcome to LA Episode 8, Sant Master Dirk Caber. He asked a nurse for a plastic Ziploc bag, the transparent type used to transport laboratory specimens. He had been in hospital for two "pain-filled" weeks. Pungulwa's uncle and brother were to visit him for the first time the next day. He had something to show them — something that required careful storage. He remembered a nurse trying to comfort him. Free Boy Twinks Videos. You have entered the site full of free twink boys getting srewed in various positions. Some of them are gays by nature and some are real first-timers seducted by experienced gay . ›› All Gay Video All Gay Video ›› Boy anal sex gay fuckers anal sex ›› Fucking Boy young gay porno ›› Gay Porn Now! the home of gay sex ›› Hot Men Fuck hot men fuck ›› Gay Receiver high quality gay porn movies to watch online.

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Email Drew here. When I was in college, I called a phone sex line one night this was pre-internet, so phone sex was a somewhat-viable option for the horny teenager and, after navigating through 18 different voice menus promising me hot action, I got hooked up with a live lady on the other end.

I asked her what she was wearing. Of course I did. That's standard phone sex etiquette. And then, when she was done revving me up with an imaginary teddy, she asked ME what I was wearing. Thirty seconds later I was hanging up the phone and cleaning myself off. After that, any time I wore a jock in the locker room, I thought about phone sex.

It was an awkward place to be thinking about phone sex. But that's the thing with a jock: It's a nut bra. If you wear one backwards, it's a dickless thong. There is no other piece of athletic equipment that is as vital to your well-being that is also that silly looking. It's an instant reminder that, like all other guys, you are hairy and pasty and have a zitty ass.

Pretty much every other piece of athletic equipment is cool. Pads are cool. Cleats are cool. Jerseys are way cool. But before you put that shit on, you gotta sheepishly step into a jock, hoist your nuts up, let your ass hang out, and hope no one doused the thing in Liquid Heat. When I was in high school, the equipment manager was in charge of the jocks. You threw your dirty jock in the bin, and then he washed all of them together possibly using battery acid as detergent , and then issued you a new one.

So every jock got worn by every guy. Unless you re-used your jock, which I occasionally did, because I am gross.

But you gotta wear one. You can't just let your dick and balls dangle down for an entire football or soccer or baseball game, exposed in the field of play. Every man's worst fear is to take a line drive to the nuts. A jock lessens the risk of that happening, whether you wear a cup with it or not no one I played with used a cup; they tend to dig into you.

It keeps your balls out of your way, which is good because balls tend to get in the way of everything. Anyway, I was thinking about this because I got a vasectomy a couple weeks ago and post-vasectomy recovery requires that you wear tight undies or a jock for a full week afterward.

And because I had… complications getting better! I am never not conscious of the fact that I have one of these things on. I walked outside the other day and my ass felt cold as hell. There are two elastic straps digging in under your cheeks, like the least sexy garter belts in history.

Every time my old lady sees me rocking the jock, she has to stifle her laughter. It's not a dignified way of going about your business. But for the task required, a jock is still the best tool for the job.

No one has come up with a better way of protecting the male anatomy from typical male behavior, and they probably won't. Athletes will continue suffering the indignity and mild delusions of sexiness! I asked readers to submit their worst jockstrap horror stories. Here now are a few of them:. We had to take a jock to gym class, even though at the time I had absolutely nothing to strap.

Sitting behind me in Latin class was Lou who went through puberty at 8 and probably had been getting laid since he was He reaches into my boy scout back pack, pulls out my jock strap and shouts "Hey, What's this? A pea shooter? I didn't. Oh yeah, my mom was the teacher. During high school football training camp, we buddy started chaffing from his jock strap and developed some raw skin on his taint and balls.

He went to the trainer looking for anything to provide some relief. The trainer wasn't around but he found a bottle of skin lotion and applied it generously to the effected area. What my buddy didn't know was that the trainer had packed bio freeze icy hot in an empty lotion bottle for his travel bag of supplies. Our training camp was 45 min away at a prep school and we lived in dorms for a week.

My buddy missed the remaining practices that day while nursing his balls in the ice bath and spent that night in agony. In retrospect, his nickname might have been based on the fact he: We seriously had to line up and pull open the front of our gym shorts while he walked down the line to make sure we were good to go. He'd snap them once in awhile for good measure. My dad ran track in college, and was running the m this particular day. Hurdles were set up in the outside lanes in preparation for the next event and when he went wide to pass a guy on the second to last lap, his shorts caught the edge of a hurdle.

His shorts ripped completely off and he ran the last m in only his jock strap - bare ass and everything. He said he just kept running past the finish line to the locker room, changed, and went back to his apartment without talking to anyone. Cup checks were a frequent practice ritual. They were administered by a grown-ass-man kicking a child in the nuts. I was the runt of the team, so they never picked on me, which was good because I rarely wore a cup due to the fact that I was 11, and that kind friction would usually give me a totally-unwanted boner.

Since I didn't want anyone to notice my boner, I usually tucked it under the cup and between my legs. I eventually got kicked in the nuts, with a boner tucked under my cup and clenched between my butt cheeks. The boner broke, and I cried like a girl for a solid minutes. I never played organized football again. One of my goalies seems normal, even well-adjusted, at least outwardly: He is not.

He plays goalie on our shitty beer league team without a cup, because "he moves better without it. As a teenager, he took a slap shot that shattered his cup. One of the shards impacted his scrotum, causing a Testicular Hydrocele.

He has never had it drained, so his sac is still the size of a large grapefruit, 20 years later. The league wisely required that I wear a cup while playing this position, so I headed off to the sporting goods store with my parents to purchase my first jock strap and cup.

Because I was one of those overgrown kids who always looked about two grade levels older than my classmates, I had mostly grown out of kids clothing and was starting to wear adult sizes already. So sticking with this pattern, my parents bought me the adult sized jock strap and cup combo. My chubby waist and legs did, indeed, require the adult jock strap, which fit perfectly. The cup, was another matter altogether, though.

Crouching into position was wickedly painful, as the cup would lodge between my legs and pry them apart, rubbing on my skin the entire time. It was awful. I nonetheless played a quarter of a season in remarkable discomfort before finally breaking down and asking my parents to take me back to the sporting goods store to buy a different sized cup.

Why did I wait so long? Because no male—apparently not even a year-old boy—wants to admit that he needs a much smaller device for protecting his genitalia.

If someone happened to forget their uniform after taking them home for a washing over the weekend they would have to borrow "community" gym clothes from the teacher. This included a bright yellow shirt, gray usually short shorts, and the required jock strap. If someone were to forget any of these things, they had to be borrowed. If someone had PE at a later hour in the day, there were slim pickins in the community basket.

This meant as a 6'5" teenage giant I was stuck wearing small shorts that barely covered my undercheek and a jock that squeezed one nut out of the side of the pouch. This seemed like a worse situation for my testicles, than not wearing a jock strap.

Gym Teacher made sure nobody got around the jockstrap requirement by doing jock checks on a regular basis. This involved pulling out the side strap from the leg hole to prove a jock was being worn.

I guess year old kids prefer to have their balls free while doing physical activities, or they just didn't want to wear a jock strap that cupped the balls of other pre-pubescent boys. Every week the Seniors on the Varsity would pick some guy on the JV to give an atomic-wedgie. Two of them came up to my friend and me.

I must have had more fear in my eyes because they decided that I was going to get my peaches sliced that day. I tried hard to resist the scrambling hands finding and yanking on the jockstrap. The fun continued with the one fellow dragging me around the room by my jock strap yelling and laughing with those around him laughing and yelling too.

Back when I was about 12 and in little league baseball, I was the catcher for my team. One day, I couldn't find my cup, and it was getting close to game time, so I asked my older brother if I could borrow his. He said no, because he had a hockey game later.

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