Gay Erotic Stories

When I couldn’t find an opportunity to look at him naked, I resorted to the next best thing. The clothes that he had worn. I was forever rooting through the laundry hamper - pulling out his jockeys and undershirts and eventually even his socks. Occasionally, though not often enough, I find things that were still warm from his body and I would be in heaven.

I started with Dad’s jockeys because they had held the things that fascinated me the most - his cock and balls. Holding them to my nose, I’d smell the pouch for a while and then stuff it in my mouth and suck out whatever treasure he had left for me. Usually it tasted like piss, which I loved because it was his piss--it had come from Dad’s beautiful cock. But sometimes I was rewarded with the same taste as I’d discovered that morning when I licked the white gob off his robe.

I loved to smell the armpits of his undershirts. Usually they smelled of his deodorant, which was fine, it was his scent too, but I wasn’t fond of the taste when I tried to suck it like I did his jockeys. However, the T-shirts that he wore on the weekend were another story. The pits of these smelled wonderful. Just as hint of deodorant combined with the odor of Dad’s sweat. If he had been working in the yard that weekend, I was in heaven on Sunday night as I lay in my bed with his T-shirt wrapped around my head breathing in the fragrance of my father and sucking the sweat out of the material.

I had to make sure that I got all his underwear back in the hamper before Mom started the laundry on Monday morning and I knew enough to mix it in with the rest of the family’s laundry so as not to be discovered.

One day, for some reason, I noticed a dirty sock in the hamper. They had always been there, I just hadn’t “discovered” them before. I held it to my nose, breathed deeply and felt a rush of exhilaration course through my young body. This was exciting because there were 2 socks for every set of jockeys and my “treasures” had just doubled. I would breathe in the slightly acrid smell of Dad’s feet and then stuff them in my mouth and chew on them, getting them wet with my saliva and then sucking Dad’s sweat out of them. And since Mom was forever complaining about losing a sock, I could keep them longer, allowing time for them to dry before returning them to the hamper.

Discovering the wonderful aroma of Dad’s just worn socks, added a new dimension to a once hated chore of mine. One of my jobs to earn my allowance was to polish Dad’s shoes each Sunday so that they would be ready for him to wear to the office the next week. This had never been one of the chores I enjoyed, but now I couldn’t wait for him to take his shoes off at the end of the day so that I could run to the basement with them and stick my nose in them.

As my pilfering of Dad’s dirty laundry continued, I discovered another treat. I had occasionally noticed a brown streak on the seat of his jockeys. Not a lot, just a smear, now and then. Realizing that this was his shit grossed me out and I avoided it. Eventually though, my curiosity took over. I remembered that day on the couch and the times in the recliner when Dad had repeatedly moved his finger back and forth between his asshole and his mouth before jamming that finger up his ass. So I figured it couldn’t be that gross. Maybe I should give it a try. I did and I was hooked. I could imagine my tongue replacing Dad’s finger as I replayed that couch and recliner scenes over and over in my head. From that point on, there really were just “traces” of the streak left on Dad’s jockeys. I had licked and sucked most of it off!

Sniffing and sucking on Dad’s dirty underwear, socks and shoes was exhilarating, but what I really wanted was to see him naked. Staying up to watch him as he watched the news often didn’t work out as I fell asleep before Mom went to bed.

So, I decided to make my own opportunities.

To be continued....