Rather than getting into a bad habit of oversleeping I was regularly up around 6 am. Today was no different but Dad was already at the job site. A potentially violent hurricane was expected to hit our town sometime later that morning and he wanted to get an early start in case the weather shut everything down. The sky was dark gray, and the heavy dark clouds were on the move. I stepped outside in my pajamas, which were basically my striped Jockey bikini briefs (it was the '80s, after all). I felt the intense weight of the air. It was about 85 degrees with 98% humidity. I was sweating just standing there. Instead, I did what any red blooded college athlete would do. I decided to go for a run.
As a college wrestler I and my teammates wore masks when working out. It restricted the airflow and made you concentrate more on getting the most out of every breath. It was supposed to improve endurance. Running in this weather would have the same effect without the mask. I went inside to get ready, but before going to my room I decided to be ultra responsible and throw in a load of laundry.
I went to my dad's room and started gathering his underwear from his bedroom floor and dropped an armful of briefs into the hamper in his bathroom. Something hanging in his closet caught my attention. I clicked on the light and looked around for more laundry. I picked up two towels and a pair of shorts. Hanging on a hook, on an upper closet rod, in between his suits that he never wore, was a jock strap. It was hanging upside down with the crotch draped over the hanger hook. I felt my cock swell. No one wore these anymore. I wondered if he even knew it was here. I took it down and inspected it. It was a well worn white Champion swimmers/runners style, medium. The pouch was stretched, the white material was now grayish brown with some yellowish spots. Like his briefs, apparently dad liked his jocks two sizes too small.
While I had no intention of washing it, I threw it in the hamper and headed to the laundry room. I threw in a load, dropped my briefs and threw them in the machine. Everything but the jock. That I held out before me and stepped into it. The elastic pouch stretched across my balls and hugged my erect cock like a glove. God, why was this so exciting? My cock snug in the material that also hugged my dad's cock left me breathless. I headed to the back door and stepped outside again. The air was warm, still, and thick. I went back inside to my room. I thought about jerking off in it, but I thought it would be more exciting to wear it on my run.
I pulled out a pair of black shiny, loose fitting nylon running shorts. They were a small so they were very tight, and the sides were split open to allow for maximum range of movement. They were good shorts for me because I had thick, muscular thighs. When running, they looked like a small bikini. Not gonna lie, they were great show-off shorts. The leg straps of the jock were clearly visible as I moved. That was even more of a turn on. Whoever saw me running would see my jock, too. My dad's jock. If they only knew.
I pulled on my running shoes and headed out the door. After 1 mile I was drenched in sweat. 2 miles, even worse. Every step I took pushed my body through the thick, humid air that summer morning. At mile 5 I was almost home. It was a loop path and there was less than a mile to go. Normally I could do this in under an hour, but conditions were oppressive. I was probably closer to an hour twenty. The wind was picking up now and the black and gray clouds in the sky were moving rapidly, like they had a life of their own. With half a mile to go, the sky opened up and the rain fell hard. I was glad to make the turn into our driveway.
The rain continued and the wind picked up. I was home just in time. I went to the laundry room and moved the clothes and towels to the dryer and then went to my room. I stared at myself for a few minutes. I probably put on a few pounds at home this summer, despite my workout discipline. I could still see my six pack. My biceps and pecs popped, my shoulders and triceps were nicely defined. My thick legs made it look like the shorts were straining to keep me contained. The leg straps of my dad's jock were clearly visible and framed my meaty glutes nicely. I noticed I was covered in short dark hair. It was about midway through summer break and I hadn't trimmed anything since my last competition and that was two weeks before school ended. Too much hair for my liking and in wrestling season I would be completely buzzed. I decided that today was the day I was going to trim...everywhere. I dropped my shorts, squeezed my terminally swollen cock and headed to the bathroom.
I opened the medicine cabinet to get my buzzer and adjusted the mirrored door so I could see myself as I stood in the shower and trimmed. I started at the top of my chest and worked my way down. Tufts of dark pubic hair tumbled down my body to the shower floor. I gave special attention to my quarter-sized nipples. The pink areolas were a stark contrast to my olive skin. I cleared my shoulders and my torso, and then pulled down the front of dad's jock. As I was trimming my pubes, the bathroom door swung open. It was my dad, standing there in his white soaking wet tank and jeans. The ribbed cotton wife-beater clung to his pecs. He looked kind of like a superhero.
"Job site shut down 'cause of this damn storm. Supposed to be bad." He looked me up and down and I think was distracted by my trimming to notice I was wearing his jock. "What are you doing?" A blast of thunder clapped down hard outside.
"Ah, the coach wants us always to buzz our body hair. He requires it. He says hair makes us look sloppy." The truth was that I honestly liked it.
"Oh damn. That's right, I remember. Well, make sure you throw your hair in the trash. It will clog the drain. And I mean in the trash, not down the toilet. My blue eyes locked on his. I could see he noticed the jock."
"Got it. Will do." He left the bathroom without closing the door for some reason. I saw him head to his room. I dropped the jock and stepped out of it. I continued buzzing my pubes, shaft and balls. I looked so much bigger, even half hard, without the hair. I stepped toward the door to close it when he reappeared.
"Hey.'
"Yeah?"
"Is that my jockstrap?" My blood went a little cold and my cock went soft.
"Yeah. It is. Sorry."
"Why are you wearing my jock?"
"I don't know. I saw it in your closet when I was gathering your laundry. I was curious. I haven't worn one since Little League. So I tried it on and went for a run. I didn't think you even knew it was there."
"Oh I did. I wear it sometimes when my balls are chaffed and I need extra support. That happens too often. I only have one and that thing is like 20 years old. Make sure it gets back in my closet."
"I will. I'll wash it and put it back." I was standing there naked and hairless in front of him for the first time ever. The only body hair left was on my legs.
"No, no, no! You don't throw it in the wash and definitely not in the dryer. It wouldn't have lasted 20 years that way. The heat from the dryer destroys that material. You just wear it in the shower and wash it with soap. Where is it?" I gestured toward the floor. We both bent to pick it up but he got to it first. "Eww why is this so wet? Did you shower with this already?" He sniffed it, grimaced and threw it at me. Did my dad just sniff my ball sweat?
"I went running. I was just about to shower and I decided to trim down."
"Okay, well, do the right thing with it, and that hair. And by the way. Your back is still hairy. Want me to get it?" Loud thunderclap, and the rain was really crashing down against the windows. The trees outside were starting to scream in the wind. The lights flickered briefly.
"Sure. I was gonna let it go, but it's always better to keep it even." I stepped in the shower. He picked up the buzzer. He started at the top and worked his way down. I could feel the tufts of hair tumble down my back.
"Looks like it was too small for you. I can see the waistband marks,"
