I Found My Cousin’s Marked Underwear

My name is Marcos. I’m twenty-five years old, dark-haired, slim, and green-eyed. I’m finishing a postgraduate degree that’s going down harder than I expected, and I live in a university city, sharing a flat so I can afford the rent. The flat has three bedrooms. Up until that academic year, I’d lived with two girls who had already finished university, so I was looking for new people to split the expenses with.

The solution came by itself. My aunt called me to tell me her son was starting university in my same city, and to ask if I knew of anywhere he and a friend who was going to study the same thing could stay. I told her I had two rooms free. One Saturday the two boys came with their mothers to see the flat and divide up the rooms. My aunt thought it was perfect that I was there, because then, according to her, I could keep an eye on her son so he would study and behave himself. That was what I expected. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but as far as studying went, at least, she wasn’t wrong.

Let me introduce you to my cousin. His name is Dani. He’s a little taller than me, pretty slim, and very fair-skinned, with light brown hair that turns almost blond in summer. His friend, Hugo, is also fair-skinned, sturdier built, a bit more toned, and has dark hair. The two of them were exactly the age to start university.

At first I felt a bit uneasy about not living with girls anymore. Men have a reputation for being filthy when it comes to cleaning, and unfortunately, that’s usually true. But living with a family member had its upside, so I thought it couldn’t go that badly. The other thing nagging at me was the possibility that Dani might find out I’m gay. Hardly anyone in the family knows. It’s not that I hide it, but I don’t have any gesture or look that gives me away, so people assume I’m straight and I don’t bother correcting them.

They moved in in September, and we lived together without the slightest problem for several months. If there was any conflict, it was with myself: I kept getting hornier from spending all day surrounded by two eighteen-year-old guys who were absolutely gorgeous. Dani had always been cute, but once he started university, influenced by his friend and by current fashion, he began going to the gym. In a few months his arms and back became defined, and the trust between us grew to the point where we’d walk around the flat half naked without even thinking about it.

I learned his routine without meaning to. I knew what time he got up, I knew he left the bathroom door half open when he showered, I knew that on Sundays he stayed in his underwear until midafternoon going over notes on the sofa. I’d sit at the other end with my laptop and pretend to correct papers, but every time he changed position and the fabric tightened between his legs, letting me guess the shape of his sleepy cock against his thigh, I lost track of whatever I was reading. My bulge would show through my tracksuit bottoms and I’d have to set the laptop on top of it to hide it, clench my teeth, and force myself to look at the screen, repeating to myself that he was my cousin, that I couldn’t even think about that.

The funny thing is that the more I repeated to myself that it was forbidden, the more I thought about it. At night, in my room, I had trouble falling asleep. Through the wall I could hear him shifting in bed, the creak of the bed frame, and my mind would invent whatever he might be doing on the other side. Some nights I heard a different rhythm, a constant rubbing against the mattress, short breaths that grew faster and ended in a muffled sigh, and I knew perfectly well that he was jerking off two meters from my head, separated only by a partition wall. Then I’d slip my hand under my pajama bottoms, grab my already hard cock, and jack off in silence to the same rhythm I guessed he was using, biting my lip so I wouldn’t make a sound, imagining his cock in his hand, mine in his, the two of us cumming at the same time. I’d finish with a hot spill across my stomach and brutal shame the next day when I saw him calmly eating breakfast, suspecting nothing.

The worst time of day was mornings. One of them would come out of his room in his underwear to go into the bathroom, still half asleep, and the bulge of his morning erection would show clearly in the fabric, the tip of his cock outlined against the cotton, sometimes even a small wet ring where something had dripped while he slept. I’d eat breakfast in the kitchen pretending to look at my phone, and my eyes would drift straight to his crotch, to the balls I could make out hanging there, to the perky ass that stood out when he walked past with his back to the bathroom. I was dying of embarrassment, praying that, half dazed as they were, they wouldn’t notice where I was looking, with my cock pounding under the table.

“Working early again today?” Dani would ask me, scratching his stomach just above the waistband of his underwear, tugging it down a finger’s width and showing me the base of his hair.

“Yeah, morning shift,” I’d answer, without looking up from my coffee.

I couldn’t look up. If I did, everything would show.

I suppose that’s why I ended up doing what I did during Christmas break. I stayed in the flat for almost the whole holiday period, because besides the postgraduate course I have a part-time job that helps me pay for my studies, and I only go back to my parents’ place on the special dates. In contrast, my two flatmates, as soon as classes ended, packed their bags and left, leaving me alone in the empty flat.

***

That loneliness, added to the frustration I’d been building for months, led me one afternoon to do something I would never have dared to do while they were home. I got back from my shift, arrived at the flat, and the silence felt strange. I poured myself a beer, turned on the TV, and after a while I caught myself staring at Dani’s closed bedroom door.

I didn’t even know what I was looking for. I pushed the door open and went in. His room was the typical room of any guy his age: the bed unmade, a pair of sneakers tossed in a corner, clothes scattered between the chair and the edge of the mattress. The first thing that hit me was his smell. That scent of his, a mix of cheap deodorant and something more animal, made my cock start hardening in my trousers, swelling against the fabric until I had to slip my hand in and lift it upward so it wouldn’t bother me.

I felt a bit ridiculous, a bit dirty, but I couldn’t stop. I rummaged through his clothes without really knowing why. I picked up a sweatshirt he’d left on the chair and smelled it, burying my face in the collar, where Dani’s sweat smell was concentrated. I moved closer to the bed in case he’d left his pajamas, but no luck. I lay down for a moment face-down on the tangled sheets, pressed my cock against the mattress where he’d slept, and rubbed myself slowly against the fabric, with my nose buried in the pillow, swallowing his smell of hair, sweat, and dried saliva. And in the end I opened the wardrobe. Between the hanging clothes and the piles folded any which way, I found a fabric bag where he kept his dirty laundry before putting it in the washing machine.

Since he was going to be away for a couple of weeks, logically it should have been empty. But I opened it anyway. Inside was one outfit from the last time he slept there: a pair of socks and a pair of black briefs. As soon as I put my head in, a much stronger smell hit me, more masculine, more cock and sweat-soaked balls after a whole day. I pushed the socks aside without thinking and took the briefs. I turned them inside out to expose the interior, and there it was: a couple of whitish, dried stains, the unmistakable sign that this garment had caught a load. The pouch that held his balls was more yellowed by sweat, and on the back, right where it stuck to his asshole, there was a dark streak, a thin mark that sent my pulse skyrocketing.

I brought them slowly to my nose, almost afraid. I recognized my cousin’s smell instantly: some sweat, a sharp acidic note, and beneath it the unmistakable sweetness of dried semen. It wasn’t much. He’d probably jerked off before going to bed and put the briefs back on, leaving that mark that now had my heart racing. I turned them around and breathed in from the back. The smell changed. There it was more intimate, dirtier, a warm trail of a young guy’s ass that made me close my eyes and press my thighs together, with my cock already completely hard and dripping pre-cum inside my trousers.

This is wrong. This is very wrong.

The thought flashed through my head and only made me even hornier.

***

I took the marked briefs to my room, knowing no one would bother me. I shut the door out of habit, even though no one was in the flat. I pulled my T-shirt off over my head, yanked my trousers and underwear down to my ankles in one motion, and sat naked on the edge of the bed. My cock sprang upward, hard as a rock, the tip reddened and a thick string of pre-cum hanging from the glans. It was so stiff it almost hurt, and I was sweating a little, more from nerves than anything else. Having something so intimate of Dani’s in my hand, a garment that had been pressed against his cock, his balls, and the hole in his ass, turned me on in a way I couldn’t explain.

First I put the whole garment in my mouth, sucking the fabric where the stains were, tasting a salty-sweet trace on my tongue, imagining I was licking directly the tip of my cousin’s cock the day he came inside it. A low moan slipped out of me, meant for no one. Then I rubbed the tip with the fabric, slowly, right over the stained area, making small circles around the glans with the cotton scraping the frenulum. The roughness of dried semen against my sensitive skin sent a shiver up my back to the nape of my neck. I closed my eyes and imagined it. I imagined his cock, which I’d never really seen in full, only guessed at beneath the underwear fabric on those mornings. I pictured it white like the rest of his skin, slightly curved upward, with a thick, red head and big, smooth balls hanging underneath. I imagined what it would feel like in my hand, closing my fingers around it and feeling its weight; what it would be like to take it in my mouth, rest it on my tongue, suck the tip slowly until it started leaking; what it would be like to spread my legs for him and feel him work his way inside me, pushing into my ass all the way.

I started jerking off slowly at first, stretching it out, with the briefs pressed to my nose so I wouldn’t lose even a trace of his smell. Every two or three strokes I stopped, squeezed the base so I wouldn’t come too soon, and started again. I licked my fingers, took them behind me, and began rubbing my asshole with my fingertip, pressing now and then, imagining it was Dani’s finger entering me. My hole opened on its own, swallowing the finger up to the knuckle, and in front my cock twitched by itself every time I pushed in. I switched hands so I could jerk off harder. I spit into my palm, wrapped my hand around myself properly, and started pumping up and down, squeezing the glans hard when I reached the tip, while the other finger stayed inside my ass, touching that little spot within that made me see stars.

Then I started speeding up. The bed creaked a little and I breathed deeper and deeper, caught between guilt and a desire I had never felt so strongly. I put the briefs in my mouth, bit down on the most marked part, sucking them like a wet handkerchief. I was thinking about Dani coming out of the bathroom with that obvious bulge, about his new gym-built back, about his perky ass going down the hallway, about his smell filling my head. I imagined he opened the door at that moment, caught me naked in bed with his dirty underwear in my mouth and two fingers in my ass, and instead of leaving he came closer, pulled his trousers down, took the fabric out of my mouth, and replaced it with his hard cock.

“Dani, fuck, Dani,” I whispered, voice breaking, unable to hold back anymore.

I came with an intensity that left me shaking. My thighs clenched, my asshole closed around my fingers, squeezing them hard, and I shot four or five hot spurts that landed all over me. The first hit me up to the neck, another painted my chest, and the last ones hung from my fist and slid over my balls, while I kept breathing in the scent of that pair of briefs marked by my cousin. My cock kept throbbing for a good while after that, spitting thin threads that mixed with the semen already spread over my stomach. I stayed like that, stretched out, soaked, breathing raggedly, with the garment still in my hand, feeling the guilt slowly creep back as the heat faded. I took Dani’s briefs and wiped myself with them, smearing my load across my belly and my softened cock, mixing my fresh semen with his old stains, as if it were a way of touching each other.

It wasn’t the first time, and it wasn’t the last, that I did that during those holidays. I went back to his room more than one afternoon, and a couple of times I even put on those briefs myself. I pulled them up slowly, feeling the used fabric close around my already hard cock and my balls, feeling on my skin the same cotton that had hugged my cousin’s cock, and then I’d lie face-down on his bed and rub myself against the mattress until I came into the fabric, leaving my own mark too. One night I even put one of his socks in my mouth while I was jacking off, biting it so I wouldn’t scream, and another afternoon I pushed two fingers into my ass with spit and imagined it was him opening me for the first time, swearing under my breath that one day I was going to suggest it for real.

I don’t know if Dani noticed anything when he came back from the holidays. All I know is that, when he unpacked and put those briefs back into the laundry bag, there were more marks on them than the ones he’d left when he went away. And that every morning, when he came out of the bathroom again in his underwear and scratched his stomach half asleep, with his cock once more showing through the fabric, I kept lowering my eyes to my coffee, knowing something he didn’t know, and with the taste of his dried load still lingering somewhere in the memory of my tongue.

To be continued…