Jack in Y-Fronts and his Landlady

She had not been shocked, having seen other lodgers in this house reduced to a similar state and she said nothing to Jack. But, as he steered her to the parlour, he felt her eyes scanning his every inch and certainly the horizontal jutting in the Jockey underwear.

He went wet and gooey inside.

Now they were seated drinking tea which Jack had been tasked to keep refilled. The jutting had subsided but he worried that the Y front had flared open and the females might be catching a glimpse of his dense black bush...and something else. Certainly the visitor kept looking over the top of her spectacles towards Jack's midriff.

He nodded, trembling about this fraught and febrile subject. He was indeed slated for a medical exam. Sometime soon. There was a note from the personnel department on his bedside table. This had agitated him. Swept him with waves of excitement. Troubled his sleep. Had his landlady seen the note?Had she and Julia discussed it? Is this why this visitor is with them tonight?

"Miss Kerr Sutherland was a nurse and specialised in exams. Schools, army, navy, police."

"Oh yes," the mean faced spinster agreed. "I ended up doing the doctors' work for them. Busiest time was the war. Since then there's national service recruits. And final year students at boarding schools, the 18 year olds. And, yes, I get to check the apprentices at North Works..."

"That's where Jack works!" declares Julia.

"Well, I'm there next month for the new intake!"

"Well, Jack," opined Mrs Ellroy. "Isn't that nice? You will be medically examined by someone we know."

Miss Kerr Sutherland stared intently at the shy young man, sitting opposite. He drew his thighs together.

Julia, driven by her demon, burst out.

"Miss Kerr Sutherland, do you examine them in the nude?"

Jack, shocked, looked to Mrs Ellroy. But his landlady just beamed. The elderly nurse took up the notion with vigour.

"Of course. That was laid out in a 1938 booklet called, Regulations for Medical Examination of Armed Services Recruits. On page three, 'All recruits will present themselves to medical staff in a condition of total clothing deprivation. Divestment of all clothes including undergarments will be supervised by nursing staff at the beginning of said examination...' That is the template for all examinations."

Jack swallowed and lowered his eyes. Julia looked him over, triumphant. Mrs Ellroy assumed a sympathetic expression, as if to say, "poor boy."

"I always insist on it," added the mean old lady, and took a sip of tea.

That meant, she- this dried-out old boiler- would see me next month without a stitch. Full bollock naked. And see me stiff, 'cause that's what happens when young fellas strip in front of nurses. At "full salute." Would she get to touch me down there...and what was that word? Yes, "palpate" my jigger? Would this old witch be in charge of "palpating" all our tent poles? And would she tell me to cough and look around while she presses those long, skinny fingers into me, just next to my ball sack? Staring at my stiffie, close-up? Oh, Jesus!

Julia was pressing clenched hands into her lap. Her eyes were on fire.

"Are they embarrassed?"

"Always! But it's good for them!"

"I agree with that," said the landlady, decisively.

"Why's that?" asked Julia, insinuatingly.

"Teaches respect for women!"

Both Mrs Ellroy and Miss Kerr Sutherland said it. Giving voice simultaneously to the wisdom of women.

Julie and her aunt laughed. Even Miss Kerry Sutherland smiled. They all looked over at Jack. Sitting there in just those Y fronts, the picture of misery.

He looked comic, crest-fallen and confused.

To complete his grief, he felt sure his Y front had become agape but couldn't bring himself to look down.

"Jack, you might refill our cups."

And there was no alternative but to rise. And to let them see his tightly clad globes as he collected the tea pot and then attended to each, knowing his midriff with a bold outline of his "meat and veg" was close to each of their faces...especially the silhouette of his bellend.

"His...glans!" thought the old nurse. "What a splendidly developed glans!" The eyes of each were aglow and far-off and dreamy at the close-up view.

Later Jack was enduring Julia giving his back scrub. Jack had shuddered with shame when she had stood at the door and he had passed his clothes item by item, especially the Y fronts. Julia was not skilful like Mrs Ellroy. She pressed the bristles too deep into the flesh of his V-shape. But she reverentially and tenderly circled the curves of his bottom, as if in awe.

And she spent a lot of time inside his cleft, moving slowly up and down and then around his pouting hole. Ever so slowly. He thrilled to that, even if he didn't like the ugly, cruel girl.

She asked him to bend over. She told him, gulping down her excitement, to open his bottom so she could inspect it. Swallowing with prurient awe, she said she would like to see his "balloon knot." And she giggled. Hell, he wondered, where had she vacuumed up that slang? He declined. She did not trespass into looking at his front, as if her aunt had set limits and the girl feared going too far less she lose all privileged access.

As she scrubbed inside his parted thighs she said, "I suggested Miss Kerr Sutherland save time and give you an examination here at home, in the parlour..."

Jack started.

"...and aunt and I could help..."

She turned the brush over and started scrubbing the space between his anus and his ball sac.

"...but she said it would be against regulations."

The bristles now stubbornly worked the rear of his ball bag. Should he tell her to go easy, he wondered, to be careful of his "nutmegs?" He preferred the old lady doing the scrubbing even though he was also appalled by it, sometimes when he thought about it, but thrilled by it too, this business of an old lady making him get around in his briefs, catching glimpses of his dangly bits and giving him scrub downs.

The long handle of the brush was between his legs and the upturned bristles were gently tickling the bottom of his sac.

In fact now he was very stiff. His excitement was building.

"When you left us she gave us a lot of interesting stories about nude examinations of young men. Some were very funny."

His mind raced.

Did she say nurses loved seeing the males naked? Did they especially like stripping the good looking ones? Young fellas, like him? Did they look forward to seeing erections? Did they talk among themselves about the different sizes and shapes?

The bristles moved gently- enticingly- back and forth on his knackers.

And what would they think of his dick, these nurses? His fawn-coloured stem...the silky foreskin...the big round hat on top...and all the veins that stood out as if to burst? Would they like his eight and a half inches...or want more? And his plums?

He gripped his erection with one hand, and covered it with the other. His nutmegs were electric with the teasing of the bristles.

And again the sense of unreality took over.

I can't believe what's happening. I'm nude...in the bath...with my back to this ugly girl...who's scrubbing my goolies...and she's making me think about being nude being looked at by nurses...nurses taking swipes at my stiff dick...and I'm about to erupt...

"I'm going to study nursing next year," Julia said. "Miss Kerr Sutherland said she will get me a job in charge of medical examinations..."

And added unnecessarily, "...of young males."

"Look what I've found for you," Mrs Ellroy said one evening. It was a pair of denim shorts with frayed hem, cut from an old pair of Davey's jeans. Jack's eyes widened. He liked them and wanted to wear them. They excited him. Inside the Y front briefs he was wearing, his cock twitched.

Taking the shorts from Mrs Ellroy and handling them, his stem lengthened. He caught Mrs Ellroy looking down at the sudden jutting and lowered the denims to shield his embarrassment. She seemed to note his sudden engorgement and appeared to be thinking about the role of clothing in the boy's life. Like his fondess for the Bike brand jockstraps she had discovered in his drawers. "Interesting, Jack suffers an erection...so easily."

But Jack began to notice with their rough cut hems they looked...well, very short. Too short for the gym, and in fact most of the fellas there worked out nude anyway.

"Make them your gardening shorts," she decreed, reading his mind, and added cunningly, looking at the tenting in his fronts, "I think you'll savour them." Jack had taken to working the vegetable patch in summer twilights. These would be an improvement on Y fronts- especially as Mrs Lacey, the young housewife from next door, had appeared to have been peeping on him through drawn-back curtains from an upstairs window.

About a week later Jack was working in the garden wearing just these shorts, excited at his virtual nudity and the sun, and with his dick half erect. In fact the stem of his penis was poking out of the left leg of the cut-offs. When Julia came from the house he laid the rake aside and squatted to give himself some cover.

"Auntie wants you to come in and meet our good friend, Mrs Byrne."

"Now?" Jack gasped, kneeling at her feet.

Blimey! I'm in no condition to be seen by females. I got my bellend jutting out of these terrible teensie little shorts. This bitch is staring at my upper leg because my fat end piece is squashed on my thigh. Yeah, Julia loves it. She's staring right at it. She loves it because she loves looking at mens' knobs- just loves it- and also 'cause she knows I hate it so much. And she's got that superior little grin.

"Yes. Now."

Jack mumbled something about finishing off two weeds.

"Don't be long, " she snapped, and Jack wondered how long it might take for her to start spanking or caning him.

The fear helped his cock beat a retreat. He stood and dusted off. His body glowed with sweat. He adjusted the denim shorts. If he jerked them downwards he had some chance of hiding his prick...well, the stem, at least. His end bit kept jutting. He couldn't cover it. If he tugged the shorts lower he put on display a good half an inch of thick pubic curls. And, he guessed, at the rear, showed off a lot of bum cleavage.

He felt his insides melt again and that gooey submissive thing in his tummy.

He had no alternative but to obey Julia.

Jack walked up the back steps.

The three were sitting at the kitchen table with a pot of tea and slices of sponge cake. Smoke from their cigarettes wove designs in the air.

Mrs Bryne was a good looking lady, Jack guessed the age of his mother. She had a long elegant nose and her somewhat blond hair was swept into what even Jack could recognise as a fashionable style, under a tilting designer hat. Her eyes were a luscious brown.

A waft of her perfume mixed with the scent of hot tea and their smoke.

Jack shuddered and stood, presenting himself. He felt very, very exposed.

Mrs Bryne's eyes widened and dilated as she took in Jack's torso and focused on the decorative pattern of his body hair. She seemed very interested. In fact, Jack could almost feel her eyes peel across his chest...then lower to take in the stem of hair that narrowed to his navel...and the fine fuse from there that ran into the timberline of glossy black pubic hair...

Hell, he thought, she's looking at it! This attractive lady, in her spreading floral frock and her little hat and gloves, is looking at my sweaty bush.

His hands dropped and instinctively pulled the shorts up.

But he immediately exposed a length of his prick- some of his veiny stem, all of his bell end. He saw three pairs of eyes start at the revelation, bulging with interest.

He forced the shorts downwards again. But knew the glans- the end bit- was still sticking out.

"Jack, this is Mrs Byrne, our good friend. And Elvie, this is our young man, Jack, who's staying with us while he works as an apprentice building planes. And finds time for our garden. I think it's so important for youngsters to get out in the sun. Jack loves exposing himself out there. I fitted him out in Davey's shorts too..."

"Well, Jack seems very fit..."

Her sensual brown eyes zig zagged down his legs.

"...and I seem to remember seeing Davey in those shorts too. Although they weren't so tight on him..."

A smile flickered at the corners of her mouth.

She means his John Thomas didn't peek out from them!

"Yes, Davey was shorter. But I don't think they are too tight on Jack, do you, Julia?"

"No Auntie," and her niece's eyes swelled as they focused on what was sticking out of the hem. Jack's big, fat, pink glans. She smiled and her tongue touched her lips.

That did it. His stem pushed out, a snake emerging from his hideout.

The three were hypnotised by the display at the hem of the cut offs.

"They're nice shorts..." said Mrs Byrne, more for something to say.

And she asked Jack about how he liked Manchester and whether he would do national service. Mrs Ellroy answered for him. His cock was stretching. He knew the females were getting an eyeful.

What would they think of the veins or the bunched-up foreskin? My "lace curtains," which was what my mates called the foreskin...

"I think it's wonderful that he keeps himself so fit," said Mrs Byrne looking at his torso again, and exhaling a filigree of smoke.

His landlady took this up, also breathing out smoke.

"That's an idea. Jack, why don't you go and get those dumbbells of yours and give Elvie a demonstration. I'd love her to see how your veins stand out and your arms pump up..."

Jack blushed and stammered and tried to say no. His landlady was firm. And with four inches of penis stem sticking down his thigh he had no choice.

She then shocked him.

"And, Jack, I want you to put on your sweet little Bike jockstraps..."

Holy shit! She's been poking around in my things! She knows about my jocks!

"...I think you will find them neater."

He crept away and mounted the stairs and in his room stripped off the cut offs and went naked to the drawer, a full erection pointing the way. Inside, the two jockstraps were lying on the very top of his garments. Carefully arranged. He had secreted them among his gym clothes and took them out on some of his gym days and slipped into them in the change room where they had drawn very interested looks from some of the tough old body builders. Nuggety former sailors or miners with hardened physiques, they might be glimpsed themselves slipping on delicate posing straps as an alternatice to exercising nude.

On weekends when the females were out shopping or at church Jack had washed his jockstraps in the bathroom. And dried them on the clothes line where, once he noticed, they had drawn the attention of George Lacey, the fireman next door- shirtless as usual, his huge pecs on display- looking over from his back steps. Plainly curious about the young neighbour's exotic underwear. Perhaps wanting some himself.

Jacked pulled on the Bike jocks.

He felt the surge of excitement as the tight bind of the three inch waistband- with its red tracer line and Bike branding- gripped his middle like an embrace. Then he felt his cock bulge into the mesh pouch, thrusting the knitted cup forward. The elastic bands snapped into place and held the whole apparatus firmly. Looking over his shoulder in the mirror he saw them define his arse cheeks.

And position them perfectly for the females to admire. His excitement surged once more.

He picked up his 22 pound dumbbells.

With mixed feelings he descended. He faced the three females at the kitchen table. Silent, eyes wide as saucers, they glared in prurient awe at his erotically covered groin.

He raised one dumbbell to shoulder level. "A shoulder routine first?" he asked. The plates rattled. He showed off an armpit exploding with thick black hair. The aroma of young male sweat reached their nostrils. Julia was close to swooning. Mrs Byrne thought of the smell of colts at riding school.

"Will I start?"

"Yes. Start- but not shoulders. Start with your back. Turn around."

One Saturday morning, as Jack headed off in overalls to his half day shift, to be followed by an afternoon at the YMCA, Mrs Ellroy took it on herself to make a present of Y fronts that had once belonged to her husband Harold and her son Davey. She handed over half a dozen, smelling of washing powder and perfectly pressed. That evening when Jack found that half were two sizes too big, a half too small. The elastic on all was infirm. The large ones- Harold's he guessed- were too wide in the leg and, when he tried them on, either his bollocks, or bell end, or both, flopped out and dangled down his thigh. Moreover, the front sagged heavily and made Jack's shape clear to any observer.

Worse- the cotton was worn almost to the point of transparency. You could see not only the shape of his genitals...but their colour!

As for the smaller ones they revealed his timberline, the topmost roll of pubic forest. They also squeezed "his meat and veg" in one big, straining bulge. Worse- the Y part gaped open and gave a clear view of what lolled around in the black jungle inside.

Sometimes Jack marvelled that there were days when visitors came and mysteriously his own Coopers Jockey Y Fronts were all in the wash and all he had were these defective substitutes.

Like the Friday night when he was told to be present for Julia and her friends who were coming to see him after tea. Jack got home and went to the drawer. There was one pair of Y fronts. One of the bigger pairs, one of Harold's. When he stripped and pulled them on they could barely stay up at his waist. In its relaxed state his scrotum immediately slid out and hung down his thigh. The neck of his penis followed.

He struggled, holding them up, down the stairs.

He interrupted Mrs Ellroy at the sink. Julia hovered behind, fixated on his worn through rear. It was transparent. Jack's bum cleavage- his deep cleft that she admired so much- was entirely visible. This evening, presenting this and other wonders, her status among her girlfriend would be sky high.

"Er, Mrs Ellroy, these underpants..."

He gestured shyly to the sagging Y fronts.

"...I wonder...if...there's another pair..."

But no, she said determinedly, the others were all in the wash. And if Jack wanted to talk about it, did he appreciate the burden of her having to wash his pyjamas every morning- yes, he knew why, just like with the other young lodgers- and mightn't he be more careful about his "accidents" with those pyjamas which she checked every morning?

"The shame of your pyjamas, blowing on the line every day- god knows what the neighbour's think!"

Julia spluttered behind him. He wanted to die from shame.

Dinner was painful.

At seven thirty the doorbell rang.

The two females stared at Jack, smiling. Smug. They said nothing. They didn't have to. He got up submissively and, holding his waistband with both hands, padded mournfully down the hall, a testicle dangling down one thigh, penis down the other.

Gwendolyn and Jessie and Millie were, of course, thrilled to see him and so were Sally and Irene and Olivia- this new lodger about whom they had heard so much, and eager to take in every angle of this handsome young man in Teddy Boy hairstyle, his long eyelashes, chunky weight trainer's build and delicious body hair and- oh my! his concave tummy- standing there, blushing deep...

The girls quickly saw that this stuttering young man was clutching old Y fronts that threatened to slide off any moment. Goodness, why did he insist on wearing such an ill-fitting pair and, it seemed, with parts of him sticking out of the hem, good gracious! With him struggling to retrieve his dignity, tugging the hem down...while putting hands over a very big bulge...