I filmed my straight gym bro in just his jockstrap

*Everyone in this story is 18+*

*Recap: Cody helps his straight roommate Brad film content for Brad’s spicy Twitter, featuring him in a tight jockstrap. Watching Brad confidently own the camera leaves Cody unexpectedly turned on. The shots look incredible, and Brad notices Cody’s reaction. With a sly grin, Brad breaks the tension and asks, “Do you wanna be in the video?”*

Brad nodded toward the phone in my hand and took one last step closer. His voice dropped even lower. “You ever thought about being in one? Wanna help me make my content better?”

I didn’t answer. My mouth was dry. My cock was rock hard in my sweats. And I couldn't stop looking at him. His body. The straps digging into his ass. The thick outline straining in that pouch like it was begging for space. “Sure, man,” I said finally. “I’ll help you out. No face though.”

Brad grinned like that sealed the deal. “Yeah, yeah, Cody. Bro, totally. No face. Just start with your hand.”

He looked me over, still standing there in that damn jock like a walking hard-on. “Touch wherever you want,” he added. “I don’t mind. As long as the content turns out good.”

That did something to me.

I had my phone in one hand. My other hand was already moving. I ran it down his chest, slow, tracing the slope of his pec. Then over his abs. Cut. Perfect. Every ridge flexing under my palm. His whole body felt hot and hard, like it had been carved to be touched. I kept going lower, past the waistband, just until I was hovering over his jock again.

Click.

One photo. Just his body with my hand trailing down it.

My cock throbbed. I think I even started leaking right then. Just from touching him. From how casually he stood there and let me. Like it was no big deal. Like he knew exactly what it was doing to me.

“You good?” Brad asked, eyes still on mine.

I nodded. Swallowed.

“Wanna get something wild?” he added, already turning, showing off his ass again like it was part of the script. “Put your fingers under the strap.”

“What?”

He didn’t look back.

“C’mon, bro. Just slide ’em in under the band. My followers eat that shit up.”

I moved closer. My fingers found the strap on his right cheek. Hesitated. Then slowly, I hooked under it. Tugged gently. His skin was warm. His ass lifted with the tension. It felt good. It felt wrong in the hottest possible way.

“That good?” I asked, voice shaky.

Brad smirked at the mirror. “That’s perfect. Don’t move.”

He grabbed the phone from my hand, flipped the camera around. I didn’t even realize he’d started recording again.

“Smile for the thumbnail,” he joked.

I managed to lift the phone, aim it with one hand while the other stayed glued to his body, still under the strap. Brad posed, smirking over his shoulder like it was just another gym selfie.

Click.

Then he reached down and adjusted the front of his jock. “Okay now grab it.”

I blinked. “Grab what?”

“My bulge, dude. Go on. Give it a squeeze. Make it look like you want it.”

I hesitated. “Are you sure?”

Brad grinned. “Yeah, bro. Help your bro out.”

I moved closer. My fingers hovered over the fabric. Hesitated. Then I slid them in under the waistband. Right into the pouch. Right against his skin.

Click. Another shot. My hand half inside his jock, touching cock.

His cock was warm. Thick. Pressing into my fingers. The fabric stretched tight around both of us. My whole body buzzed.

“Bro,” Brad said, looking down, cock twitching in that tight pouch, “don’t just keep your hand in there. Hold it.”

I didn’t even flinch. I gripped it.

Fully.

Click.

Another shot. My hand wrapped around Brad’s cock inside his jock, the outline way more defined now. My fingers barely closed around it.

Brad looked at the screen, then smirked. “I got an idea,” he said. “Here. Get yourself more comfortable.”

I blinked.

He pointed down. “Get on the floor, bro. It’ll be an amazing shot.”

I didn’t even hesitate. At this point, if he’d said “Bro, blow me for the content,” I might’ve done it. Hell, a guy like Brad? I'd do anything he asked.

He took the phone from me while I dropped to my knees in front of him.
“Bro, put both your hands on the waistband,” he said, aiming the camera down at me. “I’ll take a video. Slowly take it off.”

I nodded. My cock was throbbing in my sweats, leaking again. I slid my hand out from inside his pouch, the warmth still lingering on my fingers. Then I placed both hands on the waistband of his jock.

Deep breath.

And slowly.....so fucking slowly....I started pulling it down.

The camera caught everything. Top POV. Brad’s hard abs flexed above me. His hips didn’t move. I peeled the fabric down, inch by inch, watching the pouch stretch before it gave up the fight.

Then I saw it.

Right in front of my face. Brad’s cock. All of it. In its full, fucking glory.

He couldn’t have been any harder. Thick, veiny, curved just slightly upward, like it was built to be shown off. And long. Long enough that if he slapped it against my face, it’d hurt. That kind of big. That kind of thick.

I just stared.

Brad looked down, voice low but steady. “Bro, grab it properly now. Right hand on my dick. Cup my balls with your left. It’s gonna be an amazing shot.”

I did exactly that.

My right hand wrapped around his cock, slow and firm. My left cupped his balls. Heavy. Warm. His skin was so soft, but his cock was steel-hard in my grip.

He groaned under his breath. Then added, “Now touch the tip with your thumb.”

I raised my thumb and pressed it gently against the head.

And that’s when I felt it.

A drop.

Warm. Wet. Right on my thumb.

Brad was leaking.