Occasionally posters mention seeing underwear lying around in public, changing rooms/gyms type of thing. I think I’ve seen Tumblr blogs where guys tell of picking up some guy’s unguarded goods for at-home abuse! I did it once after an encounter with a young uncut guy who obviously didn’t bother to dry his elephant-trunk foreskin, judging by the piss stains in the front of a pair of Hanes dumped just inside his apartment’s door. I grabbed them when letting myself out in the middle of the night when he turned down a second suck.
But has anyone ever had theirs stolen?
Pushing 30 years ago, I lived in a large rental high-rise apartment complex with retail on the major street-side ground floor... and indoor rec facilities extending into a large backyard behind, with the residential units in a tower above. One side of that back complex had separate male/female dry saunas with a fairly large (mebbe eight-person) jacuzzi accessed from either M/F sauna change/shower area... and with the jacuzzi location opening up in warmer weather onto a patio with a plunge pool outside in a walled garden.
One Saturday evening, I decided to hit the facilities – I’d been out partying on Friday night and needed a rest. Protocol demanded proper swimwear for the shared jacuzzi -- cutoffs were banned as loose threads and lint were blamed for plugging the circulation pump. I had an old pair of Speedos for such a visit as hot water and chemicals weren’t kind to new stuff. Mixed use of the saunas was banned so I usually chose to go naked, though the few residents I occasionally shared with covered up with swimwear. Still, I always kept a loose towel handy in case.
Entering the outer hallway, I could hear the jacuzzi running so I opened the door into the wet area to check how many people might be there. A young guy and presumably his girlfriend were, well shall we say, spread longitudinally on the seat shelf mostly underwater, she on her back, head just above water, and he on top. I guess the noise from the pump and their ‘activity’ masked the door opening, as I was able to take the scene in before he glanced up towards me and immediately took on that startled ‘deer in headlights’ look of surprise. As far as I could tell from the agitated water barely covering his rear end, he had nothing on.
Discretion or whatever won over to the urge to keep watching (!) so I went back into the men’s sauna, turned on the heater, stripped off... T, jeans, and underwear... my usual Jockey Classics... and had a shower. I filled the wooden bucket for steam and went into the sauna itself with my towel. The room wasn’t nearly hot enough... but I settled in for the wait. After about ten minutes, I’d just poured several ladles of water onto the rocks to intensify the heat when I heard the door to the changing area open... and silence for a couple more before the toilet was flushed followed by the door banging shut again. Just as I decided I’d cooked myself enough with two other waterings, the noise of the jacuzzi pump stopped – it was on a timer if left to run. There’d been no clothes in the men’s area so presumably the dude had wandered down in a towel (and maybe swimwear) but neither had he come in for a shower afterwards which to me was strange.
I went out to cool off in the shower. Drying off, I suddenly realised my briefs which had been hooked on top of my jeans weren’t there! Alarmed, I checked the pockets... phew, my apt keys were still inside the 501’s... but the thought of my Jockeys going home with someone else was a turn-on, and I boned. Back up in the apartment the thought kept festering. It was bedtime anyway so my regular nightly jack took on extra fantasy.
The next morning, I headed across the street for the Sunday newspaper from 7-Eleven using an emergency door between the retail stuff which let you out but not back in. Coming home, I had to walk around to the side street for the main entrance down a garden walkway beside the high brick fence hiding the pool and patio. (Incidentally, I walked by the complex this weekend after a couple of beers with buddies in a nearby Gay bar and the same wall and facilities are still there.)
Close to the front door, I could see something white on top of a small shrub... aw, yeah... up close, Jockeys. Nah, they can’t be, surely? But I immediately confirmed they were mine; they were only a couple of months old, and true to my frequent routine, I’d masturbated into each pair in the three-pack before washing them; on some occasions I don’t even make it home without first ripping a pack open and doing the deed in the car. With that pair, I must have eaten something or my semen might have been heavily sperm as I knew there were two dime-sized splotches where dried cum hadn’t been completely washed out and the dryer heat had baked the stains in.
My mind went into overdrive... again. I wondered what the dude had been thinking, grabbing the briefs after taking a leak, then probably throwing them over the wall from the poolside patio? I guess he was pissed off that I’d interrupted their play in the jacuzzi, and likely as I was still nearby in the sauna, they couldn’t risk getting caught once more. Sunday morning jackoff was discharged into the wandering pair!
I never saw the guy again but maybe he had been visiting the young woman, and I hadn’t seen her face, looking from behind at the time.
Even after several decades, the episode (like many other personal sexual recalls) still injects a boost to my solo fun.
But has anyone ever had theirs stolen?
Pushing 30 years ago, I lived in a large rental high-rise apartment complex with retail on the major street-side ground floor... and indoor rec facilities extending into a large backyard behind, with the residential units in a tower above. One side of that back complex had separate male/female dry saunas with a fairly large (mebbe eight-person) jacuzzi accessed from either M/F sauna change/shower area... and with the jacuzzi location opening up in warmer weather onto a patio with a plunge pool outside in a walled garden.
One Saturday evening, I decided to hit the facilities – I’d been out partying on Friday night and needed a rest. Protocol demanded proper swimwear for the shared jacuzzi -- cutoffs were banned as loose threads and lint were blamed for plugging the circulation pump. I had an old pair of Speedos for such a visit as hot water and chemicals weren’t kind to new stuff. Mixed use of the saunas was banned so I usually chose to go naked, though the few residents I occasionally shared with covered up with swimwear. Still, I always kept a loose towel handy in case.
Entering the outer hallway, I could hear the jacuzzi running so I opened the door into the wet area to check how many people might be there. A young guy and presumably his girlfriend were, well shall we say, spread longitudinally on the seat shelf mostly underwater, she on her back, head just above water, and he on top. I guess the noise from the pump and their ‘activity’ masked the door opening, as I was able to take the scene in before he glanced up towards me and immediately took on that startled ‘deer in headlights’ look of surprise. As far as I could tell from the agitated water barely covering his rear end, he had nothing on.
Discretion or whatever won over to the urge to keep watching (!) so I went back into the men’s sauna, turned on the heater, stripped off... T, jeans, and underwear... my usual Jockey Classics... and had a shower. I filled the wooden bucket for steam and went into the sauna itself with my towel. The room wasn’t nearly hot enough... but I settled in for the wait. After about ten minutes, I’d just poured several ladles of water onto the rocks to intensify the heat when I heard the door to the changing area open... and silence for a couple more before the toilet was flushed followed by the door banging shut again. Just as I decided I’d cooked myself enough with two other waterings, the noise of the jacuzzi pump stopped – it was on a timer if left to run. There’d been no clothes in the men’s area so presumably the dude had wandered down in a towel (and maybe swimwear) but neither had he come in for a shower afterwards which to me was strange.
I went out to cool off in the shower. Drying off, I suddenly realised my briefs which had been hooked on top of my jeans weren’t there! Alarmed, I checked the pockets... phew, my apt keys were still inside the 501’s... but the thought of my Jockeys going home with someone else was a turn-on, and I boned. Back up in the apartment the thought kept festering. It was bedtime anyway so my regular nightly jack took on extra fantasy.
The next morning, I headed across the street for the Sunday newspaper from 7-Eleven using an emergency door between the retail stuff which let you out but not back in. Coming home, I had to walk around to the side street for the main entrance down a garden walkway beside the high brick fence hiding the pool and patio. (Incidentally, I walked by the complex this weekend after a couple of beers with buddies in a nearby Gay bar and the same wall and facilities are still there.)
Close to the front door, I could see something white on top of a small shrub... aw, yeah... up close, Jockeys. Nah, they can’t be, surely? But I immediately confirmed they were mine; they were only a couple of months old, and true to my frequent routine, I’d masturbated into each pair in the three-pack before washing them; on some occasions I don’t even make it home without first ripping a pack open and doing the deed in the car. With that pair, I must have eaten something or my semen might have been heavily sperm as I knew there were two dime-sized splotches where dried cum hadn’t been completely washed out and the dryer heat had baked the stains in.
My mind went into overdrive... again. I wondered what the dude had been thinking, grabbing the briefs after taking a leak, then probably throwing them over the wall from the poolside patio? I guess he was pissed off that I’d interrupted their play in the jacuzzi, and likely as I was still nearby in the sauna, they couldn’t risk getting caught once more. Sunday morning jackoff was discharged into the wandering pair!
I never saw the guy again but maybe he had been visiting the young woman, and I hadn’t seen her face, looking from behind at the time.
Even after several decades, the episode (like many other personal sexual recalls) still injects a boost to my solo fun.
