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Subject: Uncle Chucks Underwear Drawer (Part 4) Your feedback makes this all worth it. Thank you so much. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Please do not read if you are under the legal age in your country or region. — Uncle Chuck and I woke up next to one another. I couldn’t believe what had happened–we had fallen asleep in the pull-out mattress in my Dad’s living room, each of us in a pair of Dad’s dirty underwear. My boner was straining against the cotton of the Staffords and, upon shifting the sheet, Uncle Chuck’s was poking up as well. As the sunlight hit the fly, the yellow hint of Dad’s cumstain that had driven Chuck over the edge last night was even more visible. He rolled over and opened his eyes. “Time for round two?” I asked, groping my dick through the cotton. I still couldn’t believe Uncle Chuck had orchestrated this whole getaway–visiting my Dad for the sole purpose of us raiding his dirty briefs–let alone that I was visibly hard in front of my uncle who, just a couple weeks prior, had no idea I’d been raiding his underwear drawer for years. Or that he was clearly hard in front of me. He checked his watch. “We’ve got to hide the evidence,” Chuck said, getting out of bed. “Your Dad will be up any minute.” He turned his back to me and slid down the Staffords, revealing his ass to me. Quickly realizing our suitcases were across the room, he grabbed the Jockeys he’d discarded last night. The waistband quickly brought up a curtain of white fabric, once again hiding the view. He tossed me his pair of Dad’s undies. “Quick, you’ve got to change and get those back where we found them.” My eyes were drawn to his crotch, the fabric clinging together where he’d deposited his load last night. He quickly grabbed his sweatpants and began to pull them on as well. I turned around and dropped the Staffords–less because of modesty than embarrassment that my dick was already leaking again–and pulled on my Fruit of the Looms from the previous night. The fabric of the crotch felt stiff against my stiffness, the texture against my boner doing nothing to alleviate the pressure. I also grabbed my sweats and tossed them on, before grabbing my pair of Dad’s briefs. I stepped into the bathroom and leaned down by the laundry basket, hiding our loot back where we’d found it. Pretty much as soon as I stood back up, I heard Dad’s door open şişli travesti and his voice. “Good morning, Chuck!” My heart stopped. I flushed the toilet and ran the sink for a moment for stepping out. Uncle Chuck and I were both shirtless in our sweatpants. I noticed a bit of Chuck’s Jockey waistband poking over, but not too much. Dad, on the other hand, was in a white tanktop and a pair of gym shorts. Through the shirt, I could make out his nipples the curvature of his body. He and Uncle Chuck had similar frames, but Dad was certainly more built, likely thanks to his work outdoors. My eyes lingered at his waistband, hoping for a glimpse of the signature black and gold stripes, but the lighting was too dim to allow for it. We talked a bit and had some coffee before Dad headed out for work. Uncle Chuck and I both got ready and headed out for a hike. I wish I could tell you something exciting happened on the hike, but it was pretty standard. I stole a few glances at Uncle Chuck’s bulge, but the conversation was overall quite boring. On the way home, Uncle Chuck mentioned that he needed to run and pick up some beer from a nearby brewery to take home with us that night and asked if I wanted to be dropped off at Dad’s place to maybe take advantage of some time there alone. Of course I agreed. Uncle Chuck let me out and my heart was already pounding. I couldn’t wait to go into Dad’s room and see his underwear drawer for myself. I approached the front door and slid in the key, opening it quickly so I could get to the prize. Instead, there on the couch sat my dad just in his Stafford briefs. His right hand was gripped around his cock, which was sticking through the fly along with his balls, while his left hand held a ball of white cotton to his nose. As I stepped into the room, he jumped from the couch, using the fabric from his face to cover his erection. I immediately spotted the blue lettering on the waistband–they were my Fruit of the Looms from last night. “Ryan,” Dad’s voice faltered on the word, “I didn’t expect you home for another hour. I, uh…I’m not sure what to say.” “I think I have a sense of what’s going on,” I said, letting the image before burn into my brain. “Have you spoken with Uncle Chuck? Because I feel this turn of events would interest him.” “No, what about Chuck?” he asked. “So, for the past few years I’ve been…enjoying going through Uncle Chuck’s underwear…” “Go on.” Dad sat back down on the couch, still using my dirty undies to cover himself, but there was a little bit of motion in his grip. My mouth ran dry. “And sometimes beylikdüzü travesti his laundry too. And after the last family barbecue, the one you couldn’t make it down for, I…well, I…” “You what?” “I kind of left my load in a pair of his dirty underwear and he found it and confronted me about it. And when he did, I asked him about something I’d seen in his underwear drawer. Something unusual.” There was no mistaking that Dad was jerking himself off in front of me, using my own cumrag as cover. “What was it?” “A pair of your dirty briefs. He told me they were amazing and that I needed to smell a fresh pair–” “Which is why you two planned a trip up here this weekend,” he nodded. “And why I found a pair of each of your underwear with cumstains on them.” “Exactly.” “Well, I think you’re able to make your own assumptions that this desire might just be genetic. And it seems like you’re just about ready to burst there…” he gestured at the crotch of my jeans, which were dangerously stressed out by my erection. Dad tucked his boner away into his shorts and strolled across the living room and into the corner. He lifted open the top of Uncle Chuck’s suitcase and bent over to search, giving me a prime view of his cotton-covered ass. When he stood back up, I recognized his findings immediately. It was Uncle Chuck’s cumstained Jockeys. He handed them to me before returning to the couch. He patted the cushion next to him. “Come on now. I was in the middle of something.” I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down, revealing my white expanse. I sat next to Dad and watched as he brought my dirty shorts to his face, his tongue greedily greeting my cumstains. With his other hand, he fished his cock and balls back out of his Staffords and began stroking again. I did the same with my dick, revealing my own six inches to my father. I then began my ritual, first sniffing the front of Uncle Chuck’s shorts, then tasting the stiffer parts. Side by side, Dad and I stroked ourselves through our respective flies. To his face, he held my cum-stained briefs. To mine, I had Uncle Chuck’s. I looked over at Dad’s dick. The shaft looked a bit thinner than mine, but the head was huge and glistening with precum. His fist glided with ease over it, hiding it momentarily before revealing it again. I tried not to stare too intently, but even when I wasn’t looking there, I was watching him tongue-fuck the fly of my tighty whities. At one point, the inner flap was entirely within his mouth and all I could hear was the suction of his mouth. I did the same with Uncle Chuck’s, bringing his istanbul travesti dried seed back to life on my tongue. Finally, I felt the same familiar hip thrusts as Uncle Chuck, and I watched as Dad’s dick released. While he didn’t shoot far, he made up for it in volume. His dick spewed out white cum, covering the front of his underwear. After his last shot, he squeezed out any remaining jizz and wiped his hand clear across his waistband. The sight burned into my eyes–my Dad’s erection sticking out of his fully-saturated underwear. My cock throbbed and I began to shoot. From the corner of my eyes, I caught Dad eying me, his hand lazily squeezing the remaining cum from his own softening cock. The first jet hit me in the chest, the second on the stomach, before they began to just volley up and land all over the front of my underwear. I mimicked Dad and used my hand to wipe up all of the excess onto my briefs. We sat there for a minute, our erections slowly shrinking, with our cum beginning to soak through the cotton. Dad slapped me on the shoulder. “Well, that was a good one!” He said. “Let’s get dressed though… I’m not quite ready to talk about this with Chuck.” “Well, the things is…this was my last clean pair,” I told him, gesturing at the pool of cum at the base of my still-hard dick. “Oh, we can sort that out,” Dad said with a smile. “Come with me.” I followed him into his bedroom, the forbidden kingdom that even Uncle Chuck had never managed to enter. He gestured toward his dresser. “Take your pick.” I opened the drawer. It was a spitting image of Uncle Chuck’s, but instead of a sea of upside-down Ys, my eyes were greeted by black and gold stripes. My hand shook as I grabbed a pair and unfolded it. The white was vibrant and new, with just a hint of where Dad’s dick called home. I brought them to my face and inhaled the scent, clean but detergent could only do so much. I slid down my soaked briefs, picking them up and using the back to wipe off any leftover cum. I then slid on the clean pair of Dad’s underwear, fresh from his drawer. We stood side-by-side in the full-length mirror next to his dresser, looking like twins right down to the matching briefs–mine dry, his still holding a fresh load. He then followed my lead, slipping off his cum-drenched undies and grabbing a fresh pair from his drawer. “I’ve got an idea for these,” he said, grabbing his and my dirty shorts off the floor. He took them and put them front-to-front, smearing our loads together. He then began to fold them up and gestured for me to follow him. Back in the living room, he undid Uncle Chuck’s suitcase and slid the pocket of our filthy underwear into an inner pocket. Somewhere he wouldn’t see until he was home. He zipped it back up and we both put our pants back on. We weren’t dressed more than a minute until the door opened.

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