What to wear?

[sebbie]

Dreams are funny things, but particularly night-time dreams. The most interesting dreams are the ones that mix together things that went on in the daytime with elements of pure fantasy. And the rules by which a person operates during the day may get twisted and turned in all sorts of ways that would not happen in reality. That can be fun, but it also can be very scary. What if, for example, a guy who thinks he is perfectly straight during the day starts to have dreams that have him watching another guy jerking off to orgasm as the dreamer fondles himself. Does that mean that the dreamer is not as straight as he thinks he is during his waking hours? What if the male-to-male relationship goes even farther than that in the dream, as in having partner-sex. What does this all mean? Who knows?

Bill drifts off to sleep quickly after crawling in bed wearing his usual loose-fitting boxer-short sleeping attire. Joe has made it into bed too. Bill has said nothing to Joe about Sebbie’s paper and what he found. He is embarrassed to do that, for fear that Joe will think Bill is secretly interested in gay porn, and where that conclusion might possibly lead.

Almost immediately, Bill starts to dream. He is suddenly transported to a giant athletic field with green grass, but for what game? The field looks nothing so much as like a strange cross between a baseball field (or perhaps softball field) with a soccer field. Whatever the game is, there are players of both sexes, but everyone is dressed similarly. In the southwestern most corner of the field, a bunch of players, some male but others, interestingly, female, are lined up in what appears to be some sort of goofy batting order. The player up is clearly holding a bat, but it is a bat unlike any bat used in other games involving bats and balls. The bat is about the length of a standard baseball or softball bat, but at its widest appears to be six or seven inches wide. Think very fat baseball bat, but made out of the same stuff they make surfboards from. Heavy-duty foam stuff covered with a colorful layer of plastic material. Each player in the batting order is holding a different color bat, some with geometric and other patterns, but all the same general shape and size.

This, purportedly, is a game called Funchball, though some of the people watching from the stands are shouting F#@kball! F#@kball as each batter comes up to the plate. So Funchball or F#@kball, take your pick.

There is a pitcher, there must one for each team. The ball being pitched is unlike any other too, larger than a softball but a little smaller than a soccer ball. It’s tough to tell what the ball is made of, but clearly it has a leather or heavy duty vinyl over something that has some spring or give to it, maybe some foamy rubbery stuff.

Anyhow, the pitcher throws the ball toward the batter up. Bat strikes the large ball and the ball is sent over to a second group of players over at the north end of the court. There are apparently two basic kinds of players, the batter group and the soccer group, though they may have different names from that. Like so many dreams, this detail is never adequately explained.

Once the ball is lobbed from the batter to the soccer-like players, this new group treats it pretty much like a soccer ball. They start moving the ball back and forth between each other mostly with their legs and feet but occasionally get into something involving a move with their heads, chests or even groin areas. There is a goal with a net on the north end of the field too, and apparently scoring involves getting the ball into the goal which is protected by a a goalie that is dressed in colors different from either team. The goalie works against both teams, and the goalie’s objective is to keep either team from scoring, since there is only one not two goal setups.

Another interesting thing about the game is the costumes or garb that the players wear. Both teams are wearing snug-fitting shorts made of Spandex that look nothing so much as like a cross between a swimming jammer and a compression undergarment. They are shorter and fit somewhat higher on the leg than a true swimming jammer. The tops are really just snug compression tee shirts in school colors that match the compression-jammer shorts.

One of the teams is clad all in a steel gray color, top and bottom. The compression shorts have a triple bright red stripe that runs up the sides of the shorts and then continues up the sides of the compression tee shirt. So the school colors of this team are red and steel gray. The footwear is apparently Adidas, an outdoor soccer-style shoe in the same steel gray color.

The other team is clad similarly, except that the main color is navy blue and the white stripes are white, well actually a creamy off-white.

What Bill is watching is apparently the first game of an interschool Funchball tournament. Soon we learn not only that Bill is actually going to be playing Funchball, his school team will be up to complete in the next game.

Bill can’t help but noticing the costumes on the players, and in particular how the female players pack themselves and their curves and body parts that curve into those tight-fitting little Spandex tees and shorts. Bill says to himself this is a really interesting, and must be part of the reason why there are so many fans and the crowd is so big.

But something else also draws Bill’s attention. A couple of the guys look really fit and athletic, and Bill for some reason starts studying their bodies in detail. The shirts accentuate their upper-body muscularity, and the shorts really grip their thighs and butt muscles in an erotic way, at least Bill is secretly thinking that.

But Bill is studying something else. Under those tight-fitting compression shorts, Bill can clearly see that the guys are wearing athletic straps. He can easily see lines across the glutes where the leg straps go. Not only that, in the front there is a bulge that appears to outline a hard cup!

For the girls, you cannot see a leg strap line. They must be wearing some sort of athletic panty under the shorts, and the front bulge is not as prominent if at all. Bill surmises that the women might be wearing some type of protection, but merely a flatter, female-style cup. Bill's eyes return to the guys he has been studying.

……To be continued

[sebbie]

The first game of the tournament is over, and there is a 90-minute break before the second game. There seems to be some noisy dispute over who actually won that game, and the referees are huddled in the corner of the field trying to sort that all out. Some of the rules of the games still seem unclear, maybe even to the referees, but it seems that everyone, the crowd and the players too, are enjoying themselves immensely.

Bill’s team colors are what is called old gold with a forest green accent . The team uniforms follow this, as in a neat gold color in Spandex, with the vertical stripe in forest green. Interestingly, the shoes are forest green too, with a single old gold slash.

Bill has played Funchball with competing teams from his own high school, but this is the first time to play against a team from a neighboring school. In the inter-mural games, no one worried much about game dress or protection. But coach wants everything for this much bigger game to go just right He thinks the players need to have some protection in a game involving what could get to be rough-and-tumble with the neighboring school. He announces this conclusion in a bellicose voice, “all of you need to be wearing protection under your team suits for the big game in an hour” and then proceeds to toss out some straps and male cups for the guys and some pouch panties and female cups for the girls.

There is one small (or is it big) problem however. The straps the guys are being asked to wear look somewhat, errrr undersized, and the cups that go into the strap pouches do not exactly look particularly roomy, either. Then all of this has to somehow fit under the compression shorts, which are not exactly oversized, either.

The girls on the team seem less concerned with the protection garb and how it will fit. After all, they are all used to wearing some rather little panties under their clothes, and the female cup protection is no issue, largely because the women are not trying to cover a (what could be a giant) penis.

One of the players dare ask the coach how in the world he expects the "big guys" to fit into the straps and cups. The coach responds “very carefully, but that is your problem and the snugger the cup fits to your groin the better the protection. You do not want to have your hard cup sliding around as you play or perhaps even slipping out of place where it then can no longer protect you.

So, the players on Bill's school team all go off to their respective locker rooms to change into their team wear, straps, cups, gold compression shorts and tees with the forest green trim. Bill is still worried that his strap and cup is never going to fit. One of the guys hollers out “maybe you would fit better if you jerked off first”. Bill thinks about that option but decides that idea is out of the question, given all the guys wandering around the locker room also getting into their playing garb. Bill is starting to think that this situation has gotten “interesting” at some level given all the guys around him also trying to stuff themselves into straps and cups that are clearly undersized for the anatomy as well.

Bill manages to get his jock strap on over his thighs and in place. He slips the cup into its pouch and it fits every bit as tight as he feared it would. He struggles to pull on his tee, and finally the shorts go on over the strap and cup. Like most guys, Bill can’t resist trying to “adjust” the cup in an effort to move it into what he hopes will be a more comfortable position, but the movement of the cup he immediately senses as a feeling on his penis, and the adjustment only seems to make Bill feel still hornier with the cup bearing down on all around his penis, and he is getting really close to spilling his seed right inside the cup.

Suddenly, at this point, Bill awakens from his dream, and he awakens in the middle of a really powerful ejaculation, creaming his loose fitting boxer shorts and bedclothes all over the place. He did not have the time or the ability to use the “tissue condom” method to avoid at least some of the mess. Slimy semen is in all sorts of places, but thankfully, all under the blankets.

Bill looks over toward Joe’s bed, and it appears that Joe is still asleep. Bill needs to figure out some way to get up and clean himself and his bed up, without making any noise that awakens Joe, who will immediately wonder what has happened to Bill. This will be tricky. Will Bill have to admit to Joe what just happened? Let‘s hope not! This could get complicated.

Isn’t it just weird how elements of Sebbie’s story intermingled with the basic story line of the wet dream? That is the way dreams often are!

……..To be continued

[sebbie]

Sebbie, your story-writer, wants to once again remind you that both Bill and Joe think of themselves as straight-as-an-arrow 19-year olds, both interested in women of their same age for socialization, and, eventually, sexual relationships. Bill and Joe were placed together in the tiny dorm room by University housing, a room that offers neither space nor even a modicum of privacy. Given the normal college pressures of taking freshman college courses, designed in part, to weed out students who do not have the academic prowess for getting a college degree, and the tight living conditions do not exactly help matters.

Not that Bill and Joe after 6 weeks dislike each other or get into nasty fights over things like shared spaces and noise. Indeed, all things considered and given the minimalist dorm room setup, they are doing pretty well.

The University would like to update their dorms maybe with a few more amenities so the dorms didn’t have such a military-barracks feel to them, but putting in even semi-private baths that would be shared, say, with the room next door, would be an expensive remodeling task. The University does not have the money for that, and besides, once the remodeling is finished surely the University would have fewer rentable rooms. The financial numbers simply do not work for the University administrators, and the dorm residents are forced to use the big military-style bath down the hall, with little privacy either.

There are separate stalls for the johns in the big hall bathroom, but there is just one giant shower area with eight separate heads hanging down in a row, and then a long row of nine urinals without so much as even modesty panels between them. If a guy thinks he is going to easily be able to jerk off in the big bathroom, a lot of practical considerations enter in, none of which lead to a quiet or lengthy solo jerk-off session. This is worse than living at home with your parents and siblings always around from a jerk-off perspective. At least at home, you could always go to the bathroom and just close the door!

About 10 years ago, the University did decide to install WiFi in all the dorms, which meant running a computer line with WiFi antenna down the long hallway with the little antenna coming out of the fiber tile ceiling every 20 feet or so. You can imagine all of this must look, rectangular fiberboard ceiling tiles 2 x 4 feet interspersed with an occasional 2 x 4 ft fluorescent light fixture the same size as the tiles, and then these little black WiFi antenna popping out of the occasional tile as you go down the hall. The rooms themselves have a pretty good WiFi signal as they are lined up along both sides of the hall. You can even bring a tablet or iPad into the hall bathroom and get pretty good WiFi not that any guy would actually want to do this ROFL.

In the rental housing contract there is a sentence that says “the University launders bed linen”. Sebbie signed a similar dorm rental contract with the exact same phrase. Sebbie always thought this was hilariously funny, as it sounded as if the University was simply a giant washing machine. Sebby thought maybe university staff laundered the bed linen but not the University. The University was too busy teaching and doing research to take the time to launder bed linen.

What actually happened is that the University, or maybe its staff, thinks that sheets certainly do not need to be washed every day. This is a college dorm not a hotel or motel for goodness sakes. Each row of dorm rooms was designated a certain day for laundry, and early in the morning of that day the residents were expected to rip the sheets off the little twin beds and throw them in a pile outside the door. If the resident doesn’t do this the sheets simply do not get washed until the next week. There is also a once-a-week cleanup maid service. A cleaning lady comes in, sweeps the floor and drops off clean sets of sheets on the laundry day assuming the beds are stripped. Not the same set of sheets that went to the laundry mind you, but a different set of sheets, just washed, that were from another dorm room in the complex. Then the resident was expected to make up his bed with the fresh sheets after he got back from class on laundry day. As we will see, all of this University procedural stuff will enter into Bill’s “predicament” as he rises from sleep and comes out of his wild-ass wet dream experience involving the Funchball game, the jock straps and the cups that were in it.

Both Bill and Joe have separate closets with little chests of drawers for storing clothing items such as socks and underwear. A basic problem Bill now faces is that these little chests are not right by the twin beds, but in the opposite corner across the room. Bill knows he has some clean boxer shorts in the drawers of his chest, if he can figure out a way to get to them without waking Joe in the process.

The dorm does have washers and dryers for use by the residents in the dorm basement. Bill has done laundry only a couple days ago, so he has 5 pair of clean boxers waiting for him in the drawer. Like so many dorm students, Bill just uses an old pillowcase as a laundry bag, and that pillowcase with the soiled items to be washed downstairs just gets filled up during the week as dirty clothes accumulate and tossed in the bottom of the closet.

……….To be continued.

[sebbie]

Bill is now awake, lying in bed, wondering how he is going to get out of the predicament that he has managed to get himself in without embarrassing himself or adversely affecting his currently decent roommate situation with Joe. Bill comes out of the belief that jerking off is best done at night, and under the covers, and between the age of 12 and 18 at home, he honed his skills in surreptitiously jerking off without drawing the attention of others, specifically, his parents, his older sister, but in particular his younger brother, to what he was doing on a regular basis nearly every night.

He had honed his skills at using a facial tissue much like a condom, to catch semen before it messed up his bottoms or got on the sheets in significant amounts. He had actually gotten pretty good at the techniques, as in reading his mind and body as to almost the exact moment he was going to ejaculate, and then collecting nearly all the semen in the tissue. The only real clue was the little plastic waste basket that had somehow migrated from the opposite corner of the bedroom to right next to the upper left hand corner of the bed, and the tissue box sitting right there too. Bill never worried a lot about this, however, because if anyone asked he could always plausibly say that sometimes he needed to blow his nose and clean out stuffy sinuses during the night.

Sometimes his sister helped his mom with the cleaning, and on occasion the boys got dragged into this work too despite their distaste for a lot of it. The convenient thing was that the tissue containing the semen looked almost exactly like a soiled tissue containing whatever you call the flemmy stuff you blow out of your nose. Neither his older sister nor his younger brother were going to try and unravel that. Frankly, it did not even dawn on them that the soiled tissues could contain something a lot more interesting. It was all just soiled tissue that needed to be put in the trash. So the tissue condom was a near–perfect under-the-cover-jerk off cover,…except that….

Except that the wet dreams did present something of a problem, being so unpredictable. If the wet dream ended with a full-scale orgasm and ejaculation while the dreamer was still fast asleep or even awake but drowsy, there was no time whatsoever to get the tissue in position for collecting the semen. So would then end up with cum-stained pajama bottoms (he did not sleep in just boxer shorts at that age) not to mention cum-stained sheets too. This created quite a mess, at least until the cum from the jerking off had thoroughly dried.

When Bill was 13, he initially thought that the only real strategic issue was to wait until the wet semen dried, which usually took a few hours of laying in bed. But Bill quickly learned that dry cum stains leave a very odd starchy patch on his pajama bottoms when dry. Odd not only because these patches felt like a little area that appeared like a small patch of laundry starch, but also because they stained the pajama bottoms with off-colored yellow stains. You could see a pattern on the pajamas where every drop of cum landed. Bill had actually heard the terms, cum-tracks cum-stain trails or even penis tracks.

Even worse, there would be similar stains on the sheets. Starchy little discolored patches landing here and there about a third way down on the bottom sheet. All was ok so long as the bed wasn’t being stripped, but if the bed were opened up, there would be all these stains that clearly indicated that something involving a liquid had happened while Bill was in the bed. Bill never did figure out a plausible explanation that he could use except to say that whatever it was that caused the stains must have happened while Bill was fast asleep. Mom seemed to get used to the notion that the sheets from Bill’s room were always going to be soiled within the week. Pajama bottoms too. If mom had figured out what was really happening and how much Bill was involved in creating these stains, she had the good sense to never confront Bill or even say a word about te laundry issue. Bill always thought that was to his mom’s credit for sure. Were other guys so lucky?

Bill brought all of these teen-age jerk-off and wet-dream experiences and cover ups right along with him to college. Obviously he knew that some of this could easily be an issue with a male roommate sleeping right next to him in a tiny dorm room. But what was he to do, just not go to college? That wasn’t an option.

So, at this point we have Bill still under the covers, still wearing the same pair of boxer shorts he wore to bed, but now the boxer shorts are covered with big spots of wet cum, ejaculate from that wild-ass funchball wet-dream sequence that he just awoke from. Bill THINKS Joe is still fast asleep in his own bed, and knows nothing. Bill NEEDS to get the cum-stained shorts into his laundry bag in the closet in the other corner of the room, and Bill would like to put on a clean dry pair from the drawer in the chest in the same closet. How to pull this all off without awakening Joe?

The sheets have cum on them too, and that is a problem as well, because it is Tuesday and laundry pickup day is on Friday. What a mess!

Bill decides that with respect to the sheet issue, the best strategy is to just let the cum stains dry to their starchy spots of discoloration. Live with the cum-stained sheets until Friday. After all this isn’t the first time in Bill’s life that he has ended up sleeping in sheets stained with cum!

Bill then decides that what he really needs to do is get up in a hurry, quickly drop the soiled, cum-stained boxers he is still wearing to the floor, and then make a fast dash to the opposite side of the room stark naked, grab a clean pair of boxers out of the drawer there, and pull them on as quickly as possible. At that point Bill can nonchalantly carry the pillow-case laundry bag back to the bed edge and stuff the cum-stained shorts into the pillow case. Finally put the laundry bag back into the closet. Bill thinks no one will be the wiser and he implements the strategy.

Bill thinks Joe is still asleep. Of course Joe is not asleep. In fact, Joe has one eye open but only pretending to still be asleep. Joe sees Bill making this wild dash naked cross the room and gets a glimpse of Bill’s naked butt moving in a hurry. Joe is starting to wonder about this, in part because Bill was not exactly completely quiet during the funchball game dream. Bill actually talked, or at least mumbled, in his dream sleep, cheering the opposing teams out loud and making what sounded like nothing so much as like somewhat lewd comments about the uniforms both the guy and the girl funchball players were wearing. What really confused Joe is that he heard Bill mutter what sounded like F@#kball! F@#kball! Several times during the night. To Joe, Bill seemed to be having, at best, a confusing night or a really wild dream.

Bill pulled off his boxer sacking maneuver thinking that Joe knew nothing at all. Shortly thereafter Joe got up and dressed for class. bill did not say anything to Joe about what had happened during the night, nor did Joe mention that he thought Bill was behaving a bit “odd’, to say the least. Both Joe and Bill quickly dressed and were off to their early morning classes.

……..To be continued

[sebbie]

Bill went on to his classes, but, quite frankly, his mind was not very much on the class contents. Bill was thinking about stuff, weighty stuff. He was still replaying the funchball dream over and over in his mind. Bill started thinking about stuff. Really weighty stuff.

The part of the dream sequence that kept going over and over in Bill’s head was about the costumes the funchball teams were wearing. The girls looked really cute in the snug Spandex shirts and shorts. But Bill’s dream focus had been on the hunky guys dressed out similarly, and he was particularly focused on seeing those jock straps clearly outlined under the guys’ tight compression-jammer shorts. Funchball was nothing if not sexy fun, appealing to “arousal central”.

If Bill was really this ruler-straight guy, why did the dream head off in such an unexpected direction? Was this an indication that Bill had a gay streak and a special interest in and appreciation of guys he didn’t fully appreciate or even realize was there? Bill was starting to struggle with what all the stuff that happened in the dream sequence really meant for his real sexual orientation.

Until the dream took place, he thought sexual orientation was rather simple to understand. Sexual orientation basically divided human beings into two groups, straight or gay. Whether you were straight or gay, as in one or the other, depended entirely on who you engaged with for partner sex. Straight guys always had partner sex with women. Gay guys always other men. This, Bill had always thought, was all very simple.

Bill got to thinking, however, that if this were true, what of all the people floating around that did not seem to be having partner sex with anyone? Are they neither straight nor gay? But then Bill concluded that sexual orientation was not determined by the gender of the person you are having regular sex with. But rather by the gender of the person you would most want to have sex with if you were in a relationship. So a lot of people not having partner sex with anyone at the present time could be classified as being either straight or gay simply based on the gender of their primary sexual longings. That seems straightforward, at least at first.

Of course there are asterisks and footnotes. With sexuality, there always seems to be asterisks and footnotes. For starters, what about those who claim to be bisexual, as in attracted to, desiring, and perhaps even engaging in partner sex with people of both genders, perhaps over a period as short as a few months or even days? These people must fit into a third category of those who are neither straight nor gay, but somewhere in the middle place between the first two categories.

But then what about what is sometimes called asexual people, people who seem not to be interested in having partner sex at all? Even this gets complicated. We all have met spinsters and single males who claim to be completely disinterested in sex at all. These are the men and women who cannot remember the last time they had a sexual orgasm, alone or with a partner. Bill is not sure he wants to toss this group of people into the space with the people who claim to be bisexual if the bisexuals are regularly engaging in partner sex with people of both genders and the asexual are not engaging in sex with anyone.

This gets more complicated still. It suddenly occurs to Bill that some people (Sebbie maybe as an example?) seem to enjoy solo sex immensely to the point of continuously dreaming up new and interesting ways to jerk off. This thought had never occurred to Bill before. But these solo-sex episodes almost invariably end up being private, solo sessions, not sessions with a partner of either gender. Bill gets to thinking that there are plenty of people who do not have a sexual partner, and plenty more who are of the mindset that they are no longer even interested in having a sexual partner. Are these people somehow denied orgasmic pleasure simply because of their relationship status?

Bill thinks about this. He considers himself heterosexual, but for right now a regular sexual relationship with a certain girl could create more problems for him (and her) than it resolves. The girl might soon get to thinking because Bill’s actions with his penis that she is the one for eternity, and Bill is not ready for that, at least not yet for sure. Probably not the relationship for ANY 19-year old to get into, regardless of how much he thinks he is “in love.”

So, what is the other option? Bill certainly does not want to deny himself the pleasures of having powerful orgasms at age 19, but, without a female partner, Bill is back to jerking off, in private. Finding a place to jerk off in private under the circumstances has become quite a problem still to be resolved. Bill thinks that in a few ways things are better in college than they were at home, but in other ways the current situation is far worse in this regard. Bill cannot go into a jerk-off session in front of his roommate, Joe, or he might have to rethink his belief that he is a straight-as-an-arrow heterosexual. Joe too!

But the hormones are raging, and Bill thinks jerking off is great fun, maybe almost as much fun as real partner sex. The orgasm Bill had at the end of the funchball wet dream, Bill thinks, was the most powerful of any that he has ever had. What gives? There was no partner. Only a strap, a cup and a bellicose coach.

……..To be continued.

[sebbie]

Sebbie is a “mean” writer. He doesn’t intentionally set out to twist his readers’ heads in all sorts of different ways, but sometimes he ends up doing that, inadvertently. Well, maybe not so inadvertently.

Bill has gone to a lot of hero-and-villain movies. In some of these movies, the hero is captured by the villain. The villain then attempts to gain control over the hero, and then to help the villain in his wrongdoing.

An interesting way of accomplishing this involves having the villain inject the hero with a brain-controlling microchip, something that looks halfway between a little insect and a mechanical beast containing a microchip. This mechanical insect then goes in and migrates to the hero’s brain, and starts to force the hero to do the villain’s biding.

Bill is starting to think that Sebbie’s papers seem to work on him much like a mechanical insect microchip would. On first reading, these seem innocuous enough, and hardly even that sexy. Certainly they contain no descriptions or videos of raw partner sex like so many of the Internet porno sites do. The stuff Sebbie seems to like to write about seems pretty harmless and even a little boring at times.

When Bill read “Spending the night in a Cup”, something must have clicked in his head. Bill was not even aware of what was happening to him. But then he went to bed, and the funchball dream almost immediately started up.

The funchball dream plot by no means followed the plot of the “Spending the Night in a Cup” paper, not anything close. But some of the ideas contained in Sebbie’s Cup paper showed up in different contexts in the dream. It was almost as if Sebbie had inserted an insect-like microchip into Bill that then traveled into Bill’s brain and took over during sleep to then write the dream script. And here Sebbie was just having fun writing about his experiences in wearing a strap, cup and compression shorts to bed. Interestingly, a combination much like the funchball uniform in the dream, the storyline that got Bill so hot and bothered.

Bill did not quite know how to deal with all of this. He was suddenly in a strange place. He loved the funchball uniforms, all the slinky Spandex, the tight straps, the look and probable feel of a snug hard cup bearing firmly down on his penis. He was struggling to not keep thinking about all of this. Bill was in a different place now, psychologically and sexually. Sebbie had crawled into Bill’s head.

Bill knew well what he wanted to do. He wanted to go out to a real sporting goods store, a store that had a wide selection of snug-fitting compression tees and shorts all in bright-and-sexy colors. He knew maybe he couldn’t find exactly what was in the dream costumes, the triple vertical stripes in a contrasting color. Old Gold compression wear was going to be tricky to find too, but probably not Navy Blue or Steel Gray. Those would be easy.

Another issue would be to find the right strap and cup to wear underneath. Sebbie provided some guidance on that, but some of what Sebbie said is clearly out of date. This will take some serious research for sure.

Bill decided that what he really wanted to do is find the pieces he needed to look as close as possible to the male funchball players he thought were so sexy in the dream. So he decided that as soon as classes were done for the day he would take a quick trip out to the big-box sporting goods store in an effort to come as close as he could to what the guys in the funchball game were wearing.

Bill still has a potentially big problem. At some point Joe is going to see some of what he is up to, and will start asking questions about what is going on with him, which even Bill thinks has gotten bizarre. Intensely aroused guys sometimes do bizarre things. What is Bill going to say? Is Bill going to reveal to Joe why he is behaving in such an awkward way? What details does Bill tell Joe and what does he leave out? Does Bill tell anything to joe about his seemingly sudden infatuation with solo sex methods? What will Joe think once he sees the costume Bill bought? Will Joe react by angrily putting in for a different roommate concluding that Bill has suddenly gone completely “off the ranch” so to speak?

There is a lot more going on here than Bill merely needing to get his cum-stained wet dream sheets picked up in the Friday laundry pickup for sure!

These are all interesting questions and questions that surely deserve an answer. How does the shopping trip go? Does Bill find any clothing remotely similar to what he saw the funchball players wearing in the dream? My readers surely deserve answers to all of this.

But, quite frankly, I do not know the answers to any of these questions right now. I am as confused about what is happening with Bill as Joe is. Well, almost as confused. I can relate to Bill and know what Bill must be feeling right now. Sexually, Bill is being tugged in all sorts of different directions at once.

I am hoping to figure out where this is all going from here by tomorrow morning, and in the meantime you will just have to wait. At this point you think that what is about to happen is that Bill gets his funchball uniform purchased and then crawls into bed wearing it, with Joe wondering what in the world is up with his roommate.

For now, that is a good place for my readers to be. If you want to jerk off while reading all of this, that is quite OK with Sebbie and approved too, but you might need your own funchball uniform to make that work for you.

As I said at the start, Sebbie can be a “mean” writer in messing with his readers. I dare you to try keeping from reading the next episode with Bill, Joe and the new funchball uniform. I think you are having trouble staying away. Something is calling for you to read on as Sebbie is setting you up.

…….To be continued.

[sebbie]

Classes are over, and Bill has spent the entire day just thinking about how much fun the wet dream last night was. He had never had an orgasm that powerful before. And Bill is starting to get the entire sequence of events back into perspective. He feels fine all over, in fact kinda warm inside, in a way that he had never quite felt before. It is just a little more confused than he was before about sex, and maybe a few more unanswered questions about his own sexuality and sexual identity as a human being, questions that had never even occurred to him before.

Bill was still deeply engaged in the funchball game dream but especially the uniforms the guys were wearing that showed jockstraps and even the outline of a hard cup under the skin-tight compression shorts and shirts.

Truth is, Bill was much more a pointy-headed student than an athlete in high school. What this meant was that he had never even played in a sport where straps were required equipment, let alone a contact sport that would require a hard protective cup. But then Joe hadn’t either, but we will get back to that part of the story line a few chapters from now.

Still, Bill as a non-athlete, was always curious about, and perhaps just a bit envious of, the guys in high school that wore straps and cups to play their sports. That meant the football players and the baseball players in Bill’s school. Secretly, he always wondered how being in a strap felt, particularly a strap that held a protective cup. In particular, he wondered what happened if a player should accidentally get an erection while wearing a strap and cup, Where would the erection be able to go? That could be painful. Just thinking about having your penis in a confined space seemed to be at once a bit scary but also in a strange way, erotic and stimulating.

Bill could feel his penis stiffen just a little even as he thought about all of this. Just thinking, he suddenly nearly had a real “semi” coming on, complete with a few drops of precum, and he was not even thinking about sex as such and not the least about sex with a partner. That was certainly unexpected, but in an odd way, a little bit fun too that Bill’s body was “messing” with his head that way. After all, Bill was still wearing just boxer shorts under his jeans, not exactly something erotic, and it was only the images in his mind that were doing this to him.

Bill was always quite curious about how jock straps would feel on his body, but he had no reason to own a strap given his non-athlete status in high school. He could not just go out and buy one for no particular reason. How would he explain this to his parents? Now Bill was in college, on his own more or less, and he was free to own any clothing that fit his college-student budget, including stuff that could best be classified as athletic garb he wanted. His parents were no longer looking over his shoulder with respect to every detail about how he spent his money. He still had to figure out an explanation if he planned to put on the athletic-looking garb right in front of his roommate Joe, but coming up with that seemed simple relative to explaining exactly what he was up to to his parents. Bill decided not to worry about the excuse he would make, for now.

Bill’s reaction to the funchball uniforms in the dream seemed to indicate that Bill ‘liked” practically anything that would grip his penis and nads and provide a sensation of containment. Some of this is psychological and some of it is physical, as Sebbie had said. Bill sensed the same thing when thinking about stuff surrounding his penis. It was only partly the physical sensations of your penis being contained inside something, but it was also the psychological knowledge that this was the case that was so interesting, and, at least to an extent, driving him bananas. Sexual feelings can be loopy in that regard. Loopy maybe, but in an odd way, also terrific fun.

Of course, a strap and cup is not a real female vagina, nor even close to that. Bill knew that only too well. He wasn’t fooling himself in that regard at all. Still, for a 19 y/o single college student not in a sexual relationship of any sort with another person, the combination still apparently provides something that is sexually interesting and stimulating. At least that is what Sebbie said in the cup paper, and it seemed to be verified by the male funchball players in the wet dream. Maybe being a high school jock rather than a pointy-headed know-it-all had its advantages, too. And for a horny, single freshman college student not in a partner relationship, what was wrong with that? He wasn’t going to get VD, HIV or a girl pregnant from just wearing a jock strap for goodness sakes. This seemed like completely safe, cheap, at least mildly erotic fun. An in human sexuality, given the alternatives for horny 19-year old college freshmen, the other options frequently cannot say that.

So it’s off to the sporting goods store as Bill pondered all of this, while replaying the funchball wet dream over and over in his head!

…….To be continued