Straight A's E2 | I'm obsessed with the way the hot jock smells

Everyone is over the age of 18

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I sat there, tapping my foot to the same beat of the clock as the seconds go by. In front of me was Troy’s shirt that he left behind yesterday. It’s a shame that I had to wash it, because the smell of him is completely gone now. I had to. Mostly because the big load I blew in it really stained the black fabric. In fact, I took care to first scrub it by hand before throwing it in the wash. The last thing I want is for Troy to find any traces of my jizz on his shirt.

And now he’s late. He was on time for the first session, but I guess I’m not too surprised at his tardiness either. The study session went average at best yesterday and I’m not sure if any of the information actually registered behind those pretty brown eyes.

“Hey.” Troy’s bag comes in before he does. His large gym bag lands with a thud into the corner of the square room. “Sorry I’m late. Coach held us back for laps.”

I couldn’t think of a reply because the sharp stench of his sweat was overwhelmingly present in the room. It stung my nostrils in a way that was impossible to ignore. It’s funny how smells work huh? If it was someone that I wasn’t attracted to, I might want to leave the room immediately. With him?

I’m going to tug myself to it afterwards.

I must have made a face anyway at the pungent odour because Troy took one look at my face and then lifted his right arm to sniff under it.

“Fuck. Sorry dude. I didn’t want to be more late than I already was.”

I shake my head to reassure him. Then I push his folded shirt towards him. “You left this.”

Troy takes the shirt and gives it a sniff. “Did you wash this?” I nod in response, observing every part of his neck that’s glistening from his training. “Why?”

“I...” I say in a fluster. “I just had...”

“Well, at least I can return the favour by not hot-boxing you with my BO,” Troy says with a shrug. He grips the bottom of his jersey and pulls it off his head, revealing once again his beautifully hairy pits and chiseled abs. He then leans towards the floor to look in his bag for something.

Do it. Do it! My brain shouts at me. I lean forward on the table and slide his jersey to the right, slipping it off the round table and onto the empty chair. A millisecond later, Troy sits up straight with his stick of deodorant. I watched him apply the white streak over his dark pit hair thoroughly, one arm after another. After that, he takes the clean shirt from the table and slips it on.

“Flowery,” he says while taking a sniff from the inside of the shirt. “Cinnamon?”

A chuckle escaped me before I realized he was being serious. “It’s lavender.”

“That’s the orange one right? I thought it was called cinnamon.”

I shake my head and turn the computer towards him. “So yesterday, we got up to the conclusion. Any ideas?”

“It’s the closing, right? Why don’t I just say “Thanks for reading. Peace out”? Troy flashes me a smile like he’s expecting me to laugh. I give a weak chuckle to humour him and then pull up a website that I found with possible conclusions. “You’re not very fun huh, Joseph.”

“Don’t you want to pass the course?”

“Yeah, I have to. Minimum pass for me to keep my basketball scholarship.” Troy’s eyes drift to his phone as he talks. There’s a lot of notifications coming in, lighting up his phone non-stop. “It’s just hard because Coach wants us to practice 7 days a week and...ho ho...” His thumb presses on one of the notifications.

His big brown eyes light up at whatever he’s looking at. Troy turns the phone to me and shows me what he received; a picture of a woman naked from the shoulders down.

“She’s hot right?”

“Sure.” I raised an eyebrow and forced a smile. “Anyways.”

“Bro.” Troy narrows his eyes at me. “You a homo?”

“What if I am?” My heart pounds rapidly and I fake confidence even though my knees tremble. I never know how these situations are going to go. Either he’s cool with it or I’m about to get the shit kicked out of me.

“Huh. Wouldn’t have expected that.” Troy scans me from the top of my head to the table. “Aren’t gays supposed to be fruity?”

“I’m of the non-fruity variety.”

“Original flavour. The classic. You a pitcher or the glove?” Troy’s eyes burn into me. Thankfully, I didn’t have to respond because another notification caught his attention. “DAMN. Alright man, I gotta go. She’s in heat.”

I sat there in disbelief as he quickly got up and pulled his large bag over his shoulder. The paper is literally due tomorrow.

“Can you write it for me? I’ll owe you one. Anything you want.” Troy taps the table with his knuckle twice before he leaves.

Anything?

I sat there daydreaming of all the things I could ask him for if I wrote this paper for him. Lord, the nasty things that I would do to a hunk like him if I had free range. I can already see him with his legs up while I stick my tongue in his hairy hole. He probably didn’t mean it like that and meant that he would buy me a beer or something instead.

But…

The image of his hairy hole stuck in my mind, and my nose suddenly reminded me that I hid his sweaty jersey on the chair. I shove it in my backpack and quickly make my way back to my place. As soon as I get in, I take off all my clothes and take out his jersey.

It smells so much like him.

I hold it up to my face and take deep huffs of his musk. With each deep breath in, I get harder and harder. I  must’ve taken at least 10 deep breaths before I look at the closet mirror reflecting the depraved image of myself sniffing this almost stranger’s shirt with a full erection.

Holding the shirt against my face with my left hand, I stroke myself with my dominant hand, making eye contact with myself while breathing in his scent.

His ass would smell like this but stronger. I would bury my nose deep in his crack and inhale the natural way that he smells. I’d lick up all the sweat that he collected in his crack from the beginning of the day. Or maybe I can ask him to come over after practice so that it’s extra potent.

I love playing with my nipples while jerking off, and I couldn’t while holding his jersey up to my face. Slipping his jersey over my head, the smell intensifies in the enclosed space.

“Oh fuck....” I take in his stench through my nose, letting the stink sting deeply in my nostrils while I play with my body. To keep the shirt from falling down further, I tilt my head up and am blessed with a wet spot that must have been where his pits are. 

Because it smells fucking primal.

Breathe in

Breathe out

I want to lick his pits clean so badly

Breathe in

Breathe out

Clean every part of him with my tongue.

Oh fuck...oh fuck...OH FUCK....

Breathe in

I sniffed his pit stain desperately as I ejaculated freely onto my bedroom floor. Troy’s scent sent my body into overdrive as I wondered what the other parts of his body would smell like. His feet! His soles! His crotch!

I stayed in that position for the next minute, dizzy and sweaty from breathing in nothing but his essence. I need more. A lot more.

What am I going to ask from him?