Panty Dropper (Patreon)

“I don’t wanna sound weird, but you smell fuckin’ great, dude.”

Craig laughed and looked at the cologne again, still unable to make out exactly what the label read. The font was a scribbled mess of exaggerated, filigree letters in bright gold against a deep crimson background.  Even the bottle itself was tapered and distressed, like something out of an alchemist’s lab, not a department store cologne counter. The dramatic appearance had caught Craig’s eye, but he was already regretting the impulse to spray it on his wrist. The smell was acrid and harsh; musky, but in a “sweaty underwear” kind of way. “You think so?  I dunno man...smells kinda rank to me.”

“Fuck that,” Scott said, also trying, and also failing, to read the label. “Shit even makes me wanna hit it,” the brawny jock laughed, giving his taller friend’s tight rear a slap. 

Before Craig could respond, the thin, well-dressed man behind the counter walked over, his salesman grin stretched across his skeletal, plastic features. The deep, fake tan covering his skin-and-bones frame made the man seem even less human.  Like the bottle in his hand, Craig couldn’t make out what the small, ornate nametag on the man’s lapel said no matter how hard he stared.  “Ohhh, a bold choice,” the man cooed in a high, light voice, nodding enthusiastically.  “Only real men go for that one. Smell’s a little out there at first, but they always come back for more! A certified panty dropper from what they tell me.”

Craig’s expression was dubious.  “Really?”  The handsome blonde raised an eyebrow and looked over at Scott, trying to determine if his roommate was just fucking with him or not.  It wouldn’t be the first time the burly bulldog had lied in order to get Craig to do something embarrassing.  But from what he could tell, Scott’s interest appeared genuine.  “Why don’t you get a bottle then?”  

Scott rolled his eyes and shook his buzzed head, motioning to his tank-top, gym shorts and flip flops compared to Craig’s fitted t-shirt, expensive chinos, and spotless boots.  “Nah, you got that pretty boy shit covered, bro.”  He sniffed his armpits and grinned, seeming satisfied that he’d even remembered to put on deodorant.  “Just make up your mind already so we can get the fuck outta this mall.  I’m tired of holding your purse while you shop.”  

“Sorry, dear,” Craig said in a sing-song tone, batting his bright blue eyes at Scott before turning back to the tanned skeleton behind the counter.  Even the man’s raven hair was so thick with gel that it was practically reflective, looking as plastic as the rest of him.  “Looks like I’ll take it.”  

“Excellent!”  The man clapped excitedly and took the bottle, giving Craig a few quick sprays before wrapping it up.  The blonde jock was so caught off guard by the unexpected, pungent cloud that he’d paid and was holding a small bag before he’d even realized it.  

Craig wrinkled his nose as they climbed into his car, the confined space only magnifying the funky odor.  “You’re sure this smells good?  You’re not just fucking with me like last time?”  

Scott smiled at the memory of Craig’s muscled torso hanging out of a far too small, women’s shirt that he’d convinced him looked good.  “I’m being honest.  It’s weird, but like a good weird.”  

Craig sniffed at the air, still unconvinced.  “As much as I just paid for this shit I hope you’re right, dude.”  

**********

Sitting in his office the next day, the handsome blonde was more certain than ever he’d been the butt of another of Scott’s jokes.  No matter how long he’d been wearing it, the cologne never changed from the sweaty, musky stench.  He didn’t feel fresh and clean, or warm and spicy, like his cologne usually made him feel.  He felt like he’d just walked right off the gym floor after a workout and straight into his office clothes.  

“Think I’m allergic to something in this shit…” Craig muttered as he sat at his desk, tugging at his collar and trying to casually get a whiff of his increasingly moist armpits.  On top of smelling like a dirty locker room he was beginning to look like one, and it was driving him crazy.  

Unlike Scott, Craig was immaculate about his looks.  His short, styled hair was always expertly in place, and his precision-fitting clothes were always wrinkle free, hanging just right to show off his tapering, athletic frame.  And though he spent plenty of time at the gym, he never left without thoroughly scrubbing down and putting himself back together afterwards.  Part of it was the chance to show off his chiseled, perfect body to all the other guys in the showers, but mostly Craig just hated being dirty.  In the heat of a game or the intensity of his workout he could handle sweat-soaked clothes, but as soon as the opportunity presented itself the offending clothes came off and the shower turned on.  

So to be stuck at his desk in a dress shirt marked with large pit stains under each arm and damp patches on his chest and back was a nightmare.  The damp fabric did show off his bulging, proportional pecs and large, muscled arms, but not in any way that he wanted.  And he could feel it spreading to his lower half.  His boxer briefs were already moist, his heavy balls clinging to his sturdy quads as he rocketed towards swamp-ass territory.  

Most confusing, though, was everyone’s reaction.  The women in the office he normally caught checking him out all day wrinkled their noses or made a face as he passed, and while Craig hadn’t caught a single one of them eyeing him the way they usually did, nearly every man who got within twenty feet complimented him on his new cologne.  That was weird enough on its own, but if he didn’t know better, Craig was starting to think he was catching some of them giving him a thirsty look.  There were a few gay guys in the office who usually snuck a peak whenever he walked by, not every single man he came in contact with.  

“Whoa, hey, what is that cologne you’re wearing?”  

Craig tensed and bit down on a sigh when Patrick stopped him in the hall.  The middle aged, former jock was always dressing as if he had twenty fewer years hanging off his broad frame, and it always felt like he was trying a little too hard whenever he was around the younger hunk.  That behavior seemed suddenly magnified as Craig found himself fixed squarely in the older man’s hungry stare.  “Oh, uh, it’s funny, I don’t actually know the name.  I got talked into buying it by the guy at the mall…” Craig trailed off when Patrick stepped closer and leaned in to take a long sniff, his hand casually landing on the small of the younger man’s back.  

“Damn, whatever it is smells amazing,” he said, a dazed grin on his weathered face.  Craig didn’t know why he wasn’t pulling away, or at least taking a step back.  Patrick had clearly and purposely invaded his personal space, but all the tall blonde could do was stand and blush when the wide hand on his lower back slid down to give his solid bubble a lingering squeeze.  It wasn’t the kind of quick, playful swat guys normally gave each other, but an intentional exploration. 

“Th...thanks,” Craig stammered, trying to process the fact that he’d just been groped in the middle of the office by a supposedly straight coworker.  He’d gone out drinking with Patrick and knew for a fact the older man was strictly into women, but looking at his thirsty expression and twitching slacks it didn’t seem that way at the moment.  “Well, I, uh, gotta get back to work,” Craig said, finally pulling away from Patrick when he felt his own swampy cock start to twitch.  His ass tingled from his coworker’s grip, a sensation that lasted for the rest of the day as he sequestered himself in his office.  

By the time he left later that afternoon, the small box of a room smelled like the bottom of a football team’s dirty hamper and his shirt was almost soaked through from his incessant sweating.  Patrick had found a few more excuses to come by, eventually suggesting that he and Craig get together for a “workout” that night, though it was clear the exercises he had in mind weren’t the ones that usually took place in a gym.  Craig had politely declined, but he was more than a little confused by how badly he wanted to take the stocky man up on his offer.  

He focused instead on his anger towards Scott, weighing all the various ways he was going to get delicious revenge on his roommate.  But only after he took a shower.  

“Hey man,” Scott waved when Craig trudged into their apartment.  The shorter man paused and sniffed at the air, a broad grin on his face.  “Trying out the new scent?  How’d it go over?”  

“You are such an asshole,” Craig spat as he kicked his shoes off and immediately undid his damp shirt.  

Scott’s grin faltered, the other man seeming genuinely confused by Criag’s anger.  “Whoa...what the fuck is that about?”  

“Look at me!”  Craig spread his arms and motioned to his sweat-stained shirt before slipping it off and tossing it at his friend.  His chiseled torso glistened with enough sweat that it looked like he’d jogged home, not driven.  “Did you put that guy at the mall up to this?  I’m a fuckin’ sweat factory and I smell like a dirty jockstrap!”  

Scott caught the shirt and examined the damp fabric, especially the sopping underarms.  “I don’t know why you keep saying that,” he said, lifting the shirt to his face and taking a whiff.  “This smells fuckin’ great...so good…can’t believe it…” 

Craig’s confusion grew as he stood and watched Scott huff his sweaty shirt.  His friend wasn’t this good an actor, but if it wasn’t a prank that meant something else entirely was happening, and Craig had no idea what.  “Everything okay over there,” he finally asked when he started to see the front of Scott’s mesh shorts bounce and twitch.  

The other man didn’t say anything.  He took a few slow, deep inhalations before dropping the shirt and lunging over to Craig.  “Uh...dude…?”  Craig stuttered awkwardly when Scott grabbed his arm and lifted it to get a better smell of his sweaty armpit straight from the source.  He blushed when he felt the stocky man’s prominent nose brush through the small patch of sandy hair, his eyes going wide when that nose turned into a warm, wet tongue.   Craig tried to twist away, but Scott had his arm in an iron grip, keeping him in place.  “Dude!  What the fuck!” 

“Fuck...smells so good...tastes good too…” Scott muttered in a daze, his tongue going from hesitant and probing to long, lapping licks.  

“Se...seriously man...this...this isn’t...funny…” Craig stammered, laughing reflexively as Scott’s strong tongue tickled his sides.  It wasn’t until he felt his friend’s hands begin to undo his pants that he realized he’d voluntarily folded his arm behind his head, his bicep flexing impressively as his bare torso broke out in goosebumps.  The ripped blonde didn’t know why he wasn’t resisting.  He felt like a passenger in his own body as he watched Scott fumble his pants open and push them down, unaware that at some point he’d gotten hard until he saw his tented, sweaty underwear.  That view didn’t last long before Scott sent those to the floor with his pants, giving his long, thick cock a few tugs before pausing to huff his stroking hand.  

“Can’t get enough...fuck...need it….” Scott mumbled to himself while manhandling his naked friend.  He sniffed around Craig’s athletic body like a dog meeting another dog for the first time, his rough hands glued to the blonde’s trim waist as he held him in place.  Scott dropped to his knees, his nose working its way lower and lower until it eventually buried itself between the blonde’s round, muscled globes.  

“WhooOOUUHHAAAAHhh!”  Craig yelped and went up on his toes at the unexpected sensation of Scott’s tongue probing his sweaty crack.  He’d never felt anything like it before. Even with girlfriend’s he’d never let them play around back there.  That was his job with them, not the other way around.  Now, his hands locked on top of Scott’s, he regretted his decision.  Bolts of pure pleasure rocketed up his spine as his friend’s stubbled cheeks scratched against the insides of his thighs while the other man’s tongue covered every inch.  Scott was voracious, working his way down the shallow valley between Craig’s perky cheeks and around to sniff and lap at his sweaty, sour balls.  

He stood in shocked, embarrassed wonder, his frantic mind racing to process what was happening.  Craig couldn’t let himself believe that his best friend was actually on his knees, eagerly giving his pungent hole a tongue bath anymore than he could let himself accept how much he was loving it.  He desperately tried to keep himself from cumming.  He couldn’t let himself give in and explode while being eaten out like a girl.  

It was a losing battle.  Scott’s relentless tongue against his hole and the sensation of his scratchy cheeks scratching through his sensitive valley pushed him over the edge.  “HHOOuuuhhhnNNNHHH!” Craig howled, his cracking whimper only adding to his embarrassment while his untouched cock spasmed and sprayed wildly.  Scott kept going, seemingly unaware of his friend’s explosion until Craig finally forced himself away.  “I gotta...I gotta take a break...man…” he panted as Scott stared up at him with dazed, glassy eyes.  

“Still smell so good…” the beefy jock mumbled, pushing a surprised Craig down onto the couch.  Scott was on top of the naked hunk before Craig could squirm away, pinning him down with raised arms and going to town on his sweaty pits all over again.  

“Fuuuuuuuuck...come on, man,” the prone blonde moaned, though he didn’t attempt to escape.  Confusing or not, everything Scott did felt amazing.  He had no idea why his straight friend was suddenly so desperate to explore his every nook and cranny, but he was starting not to care.  “Oh...oh fuck...dude...did you get some of this on you?”  Craig lifted his head and sniffed at Scott’s wide neck, his nostrils suddenly full of an intoxicating ambrosia.  

The pretty jock started resisting then, but only so he could get a better vantage.  The pair was a writhing mass of muscled limbs on the couch until Craig just barely gained the upper hand and flipped them over so that he was on top.  He could feel his solid cock grinding against Scott’s firm, tented bulge as he straddled his friend and pulled Scott’s baggy tank-top free, but he didn’t care.  Like the other man, all he wanted was more of the delicious scent.  

“Fuckin’ that’s right...that’s what you want…” the burly bulldog grunted, flexing a meaty bicep as Craig scooted forward and buried his face into the hairy armpit.  He stroked his friend’s tapering back and flexed his hairy pecs against the side of Craig’s head, his hand sliding lower and lower.  

“MMMMM!”  Craig’s half-closed eyes shot open against Scott’s dense patch of fur when he felt one of his friend’s wide, rough flingers slip inside his recently bathed hole.  He squirmed and writhed but only succeeded in working the digit in deeper, unable to pull his face away from his Scott’s delicious underarm.  The handsome adonis was trapped.  He couldn’t bring himself to cease his voracious tongue bath anymore than he could escape the fingers stretching his virgin hole.  He had no other option than to explode all over Scott’s torso, this time while licking another man’s pit and getting fingered like a girl instead of being eaten out.  He didn’t know which was more humiliating, or which felt better.  

“Looks like you’ve got a mess to clean up,” Scott barked, pulling his hand away and folding it behind his head with his other arm.  

“Right!  Sorry, sorry!”  Craig stammered, too flustered to even think about Scott’s unusually commanding tone.  He reluctantly lifted his face from his friend’s hairy pit and worked his tongue over every bare inch of Scott’s burly, hairy chest and muscled gut, going until every last drop of cum had been licked clean.  

Even then he didn’t stop.  As soon as he’d made it to Scott’s navel, Craig could smell the lovely scent wafting up through the tented mesh of his friend’s shorts.  He pulled them open and took a long breath, his naked muscle breaking out in goosebumps as the powerful aroma sent a shiver down his spine.  He tore the shorts and briefs free in a frenzy before dropping his face and running his nose along Scott’s wide, rigid cock like he was doing a line of coke.  

Craig’s tongue went back to work, exploring every crack and crevice around Scott’s girthy package.  The sour, salty taste was like nothing he’d ever experienced, and he couldn’t get enough.  Before he knew it, Craig had Scott’s cock in his mouth, his tongue gripping the pulsing organ like a third hand as he bobbed his head up and down.  

A part of the handsome jock was aware of what was happening and the impossible strangeness of the situation.  On a logical level, Craig knew he shouldn’t be desperately blowing another man, let alone Scott of all people, but on a gut, physical level, he couldn’t even think about stopping.  He needed more of the delightful, musky aroma.  He needed it deep in his lungs and all over his body.  He needed it to fill him until he couldn’t smell anything else.  

Scott needed it too.  “Get...get up here…” the beefy man groaned, having to lift Craig’s head free to get his friend to stop.  Even then the pretty blonde went for another few, last licks before sliding back up Scott’s torso as instructed.  

“Dude...what the fuck are we...doing…” Craig managed to ask, his hands kneading the furry lumps of muscle that were Scott’s pecs.  The only answer he received was a blur of motion from his friend when Scott abruptly sat up, and a bright, quick stab of pain that quickly turned into a deep, throbbing pleasure.  “FFFFUUUUUUuuunnnnnnhhh….” he moaned, squirming reflexively against Scott’s broad torso when he realized the other man was inside him.  

“That’s better,” Scott grunted, lifting one of Craig’s arms so he could resume his own oral exploration of the wonderous pit.  

The impaled blonde groped blindly along the back of the couch with his free hand, gasping and whimpering with every pump of Scott’s hips, until he found what he was looking for.  His rigid cock grinding against his friend’s muscled stomach, Craig held the other man’s underwear to his face and breathed through it like an oxygen mask.  His tongue flitted against the pungent fabric while he sucked in breath after breath, the underwear’s normal contents currently probing his previously unexplored insides.  

Craig imagined what he and Scott must look like, the pair of handsome young jock’s desperately attacking each other’s most aromatic regions.  He wondered what people would think of the prettyboy blonde inhaling his friend’s sweaty underwear if they could see him now, his useless cock oozing wildly from the dual assaults to his ass and armpits.  

Up until now, Craig had thought he’d known what it meant to feel good.  He’d had plenty of sex with plenty of very talented women, but all of those experiences paled in comparison to the sensation of bouncing up and down on Scott’s rigid pole while the other man’s tongue under his sensitive arm sent darts of pleasure coursing through him.  Scott’s hairy, meaty thighs against his ass weren’t revolting as Craig thought they should be; they were tantalizing in the damp, delicious aftermath that awaited him when his friend was finally done.  

Craig took a deep breath of the underwear and groaned.  He hoped Scott wouldn’t be done any time soon.  

**********

“I’ve got your stuff if you’re ready?”  

Craig shot a quick glance down the hall in each direction to make sure no one was watching.  This late in the afternoon, most people had gone home for the day but he couldn’t always stay quiet, so the fewer people around, the better.  His cock ached as he stepped inside and looked at the small bag sitting on Patrick’s desk, shutting the door behind him.  “Yea...yeah, yeah, I’m ready if you are,” he said in a quick, nervous tone.  His normal, confident bravado had fled weeks ago when all this started, leaving his muscled exterior a sharp contrast to the anxious, eager to please man he’d become.  It was the ultimate irony.  While his pungent scent made him irresistible to other men, Craig had no control over what happened once he’d caught their attention.  

He didn’t even need the cologne anymore.  Scott had made him run through his bottle in a matter of days, and when he’d gone back for more, not only was the strange salesman not there, no one knew who he was talking about or what cologne he was trying to find.  He described the odd looking man in detail, but none of the other employees could ever remember anyone by that description.  And when he described the bottle, the best they could offer were the standard fragrances that couldn’t even come close to the potent elixir.  

It ended up being a moot point.  The strange liquid appeared to have seeped down to Craig’s bones, merging with him on a genetic level.  Instead of the clean cut, put together hunk he’d been, now Craig walked around with the constant funk of musky body odor filling his nostrils while a sheen of sweat constantly clung to his fit frame.  Despite his still-handsome looks he was more repellant than ever to women, but after being exposed to his blissful new world of sensation, Craig was okay with letting that piece of himself go.  It had been hard to admit to himself that he no longer desired a woman anymore than they desired him, the admission making the former ladies man feel like a failure.  Craig had never realized just how large a part of his identity his bed hopping habits were, until the people in those beds changed significantly.  He still found himself on the receiving end of plenty of attention; the only difference was that he didn’t call the shots once he was in the spotlight.  Craig still remembered the man behind the cologne counter telling him the strange liquid was a real panty dropper.  He just never imagined the panties would be his.  

Which isn’t to say that he didn’t enjoy it.  Difficult to admit or not, Craig loved being stripped down by another man.  He loved being manhandled while some strange hunk breathed deep of his natural bouquet, letting the dominant new partner have their way with him until he could take his turn.  They all seemed to love his pits, the furry nexus of his chiseled biceps, broad shoulders, and protruding pecs.  But what Craig wanted was lower.  He couldn’t get enough of the heady stench wafting out of another man’s pants, the ache-inducing perfume of sweaty balls and savory cock.  

He quickly learned that he had to be careful.  A trip with Scott to the gym in those early days had resulted in an hours-long locker room romp that had almost gotten them all arrested.  Craig barely remembered it.  His only recollection was a blur of sweaty muscle and the overwhelming aroma that brought him so much joy.  It was only later, as he reluctantly scrubbed the layer of dried cum off his aching body in the shower, that Scott filled him in on just how many men he’d gotten to explore, and how many had sampled his unique wares in return.  Since then he’d started going to a personal trainer, and while he was in the best shape he’d ever been in, he’d had to build in almost double the usual time for his workouts.  The sculpted stud who trained him needed time to get his fix, and they inevitably got distracted in the middle of things.  Craig was still surprised by how much he’d come to enjoy working out naked, and his chest looked better than ever since he’d learned that the bench was the perfect height for getting his trainer’s balls in his mouth.  

It was a lifestyle that required a significant adjustment for the formerly preening adonis, but one that Craig was quickly warming up to.  Before all this, the last thing he’d want to see was a bag of Patrick’s underwear.  Now, his lengthy cock was hard just thinking about it.  

“You can have them when we’re done,” Patrick said, his tone condescending as he followed Craig’s eyes to the bag on his desk.  “I put some extra ripe ones in there for you.  I wore the purple briefs for three days...twice to the gym,” he said, laughing at the desperate look in Craig’s eyes.  The older man undid his belt and opened his slacks just enough to show off a patch of orange fabric underneath.  “If you’d hurry up and take your shirt off you can get a hit straight from the source.  Wore these when I went for my run this morning.”

That was all Craig needed to hear.  He had his shirt unbuttoned and pulled free by the time he’d crossed the room and made it into Patrick’s burly arms.  His smooth skin broke out in goosebumps as he pressed against the soft fabric of the stocky man’s tight polo, folding his arms behind his head as he felt the familiar rush of air from his chinos and boxer briefs being pulled down.  He stepped out of the pile, loving and hating the rush of adrenaline he still felt at being naked in the other man’s office.  It happened regularly, but Craig still expected to be caught at any moment.  

Until then, he stood naked and obedient with his arms behind his head, his impressively useless cock rigid and leaking, while Patrick buried his face in Craig’s sweaty armpit.  The beefy, older man casually undressed as he devoured the pretty blonde, his rough, stubby fingers working Craig’s hole for what came next.  

“Still the best thing I eat all week,” Patrick laughed, adjusting his thick, dark hair that had been messed out of place while rooting around Craig’s underarm.  He stopped only long enough to spin the younger man into position and line his wide beast of a cock up.  “Oh, right, I promised you these,” he said, shoving the orange briefs into Craig’s mouth as he plunged inside.  

The sweaty fabric muffled most of the ecstatic moan as Craig writhed in Patrick’s grip.  He loved how the wiry hairs on the older man’s round slab of a chest felt pressed against his back as Patrick lowered his head and resumed running his tongue up along Craig’s side and along the underside of his arm.  The groaning blonde hated just how good the other man was at this.  He’d always thought Patrick was a blowhard, an aging jock who couldn’t let go of the past.  He’d since learned that the buff wall of muscle hadn’t been all talk, and he was happy to benefit from Patrick’s ample experience.

He didn’t care that it meant he was getting fucked.  He didn’t care that it meant he was gnawing on the brawny man’s smelly briefs like a starving man with food.  He didn’t care that when Patrick was finally done with him he’d drop to his knees and lick the older man’s softening cock clean.  He didn’t care that he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have his dick inside someone else.  He didn’t care that he spent his days sweating through his clothes and smelling like a jockstrap.  He didn’t care that any man he came across could order him around like his boss.  

None of that mattered.  As long as Patrick could make him feel the way he felt at that moment, he was content.  As long as Scott would let him lick him clean after a workout, he was happy.  As long as there were men who wanted to get a taste, Craig knew he’d never have to worry about anything.  The young blonde howled against his musky gag when Patrick clutched his pecs and gave a deep jab, still nuzzling the back of his armpit.  

“Fuck’s sake, kid...this...tight ass...is still...the best...pussy I get…” the older man laughed, sending ripples of motion through the young stud’s muscle as he pounded.  

“MMMmmn..mmmnnMMMMM!”  Craig whimpered around the wad of fabric in his mouth and nodded excitedly, his untouched cock leaking like a faucet and sending strings of sticky liquid against Patrick’s desk as it wagged and bounced.  

The older man just gave a smug grin, leaving the underwear in Craig’s mouth as he gave a few, final thrusts before erupting.  Craig bucked and spasmed in Patrick’s grip, grunting, wide-eyed, as the stream of fluid seemed to flow through him and back out when his own cock exploded.  

Craig panted, struggling for breath around the wadded briefs while Patrick gave his armpits a final going over with his tongue.  He loved the deluge of liquid that ran down his thigh when his brawny coworker finally pulled out, his mouth watering and his every, ample muscle bristling with anticipation for what came next.  

“Well?” Patrick said, pointing to the spattering of cum against his desk and to his softening monster of a cock.  

Craig gave the briefs in his mouth one last squeeze with his jaw before pulling them free and dropping to his knees.  He didn’t know whether to start with Patrick or the desk, but the older man made the decision for him.  Craig’s stomach fluttered when he was pulled forward, his face pressing against Patrick’s heavy package.  “Get to it, kid.  This mess isn’t going to clean itself up.”