Bent Fiction – Cheap Pants by CK Love

I’m an underwear nutter. For as long as he can remember I’ve just loved my underwear. As a child I’d spend most of my time wondering about the house in just my little cartoon-character briefs.

My mum told me that ever since I was a tot I’d always pulled off my clothes and shoes and paraded around almost naked. Firstly it was in a nappy, then trainer pants, then my briefs… for some reason I was only comfortable in my underwear.

As a youngster I’d beg my mum to buy the items I’d seen in her catalogue alas, as the family was struggling financially, we’d take a trip to the local market for her to buy her growing lad all his schoolboy needs from one of the cheap stalls. Usually it was just a few pence for a pair of briefs…. although sometimes she bought several pairs of multi-coloured boy’s cotton trunks or nylon briefs for around £2. The colours and designs were often awful but I realised that I could obtain masses of undies for the same price that one pair in the catalogue cost. That schoolboy revelation has stayed with me to this day and although I enjoy and appreciate all the tight, gleaming, sexy, shiny, Lycra, branded styles… I refuse to pay more than a couple of quid for any pants.

Now as a twenty-five year old, things have changed…, although nothing has changed in my desire for underwear. Although I wear trousers to work, the minute I get back to my flat, off they come and the rest of the time I pad around, make my meals, watch TV and sleep in nothing but my underpants. The chest of drawers in the bedroom is weighed under by all the styles of cheap pants bought at the market. Boxers, trunks, briefs, skimpy thongs, nylon flowery knickers, lacy panties, rough cotton pants, polyester shorts… if they haven’t cost much over £2… they are usually added to the collection. I’ve got more colours and styles than anyone else I knew and often spend night after night playing around in them… either alone or with some guy picked up at a bar, in a cottage or off the net.

 I’m OK looking so hopefully it’s no surprise I do well in finding partners. Everything’s in the right place and I don’t suppose the horny underwear pics that adorn my online profile do any harm at all… my sex life is buzzing. I have a system. All the guys who visit the flat are stripped down to their underwear first before anything else happens. Once I’ve found out what they are wearing under their jeans my interest soars… mainly because I want to get them out of what they have on… and into a style from my own collection that I think will suit them. Yes, I’ve become a sort of Gok Wan of underwear – the number of times I’ve talked some horny, hairy hulk out of his pristine white CKs and into a pair of lacy women’s nylon knickers is unbelievable. Not being modest here but my own substantial cock is usually permanently hard at this point and forms a terrific outline in whatever style I’ve got on. Even my cheap drab, baggy paisley nylon y-fronts, which for some reason I’ve developed a recent passion for, seem to come alive (and well tented) when I’m in shagging mode. Very rarely do visitors refuse to join in the underwear fun… in fact, the sessions are always so hot that more often than not a few like to swap what they’ve arrived in (expensive or not) and go home in their cum-filled, stinky ‘cheapo’ pants. A hairy arse framed by a piece of sheer nylon or a throbbing cock trapped inside a satin g-string desperate for escape… I’m sure I’m not alone in thinking it is the best of sights. Visitors often seem to appreciate what this first ever taste of pant pleasure gives them. Spurting into and over the fabric and not having to worry about ruining an expensive £20+ pair of designer pants helps lose silly inhibition and eases guys into just having a great time… creaming, screaming, dreaming, humping, pumping, laughing and loving getting off in their newly found cheap pant heaven.

 

 

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