It had been a long Saturday after an equally long week, and I was looking forward to kicking back on my sofa and watching the game after a quick change and drive home. The thought of the cold beers left over in my fridge was a welcome distraction as I walked down the hallway toward the locker room. As I approached the door, I heard something that stopped me.

I leaned in closer to the door --I could definitely hear people inside. Two guys, specifically. And then I heard it. Moaning. It was muffled as it came through the doors, but it was distinct moaning.

“What the hell is going on in there?” I whispered to myself.

“I could get used to it with you,” I heard a voice that sounded like Mark’s.

“I could definitely get used to that,” said another voice--maybe Trevor.

Gross! Are they talking about…what I think they’re talking about? They skipped out on practice so they could have sex with each other?

I could hear the team start to walk down the hallway towards the locker room. Knowing they were right behind me, I busted open the doors and walked inside to see what was going on.

It was Mark and Trevor alright, standing there holding each other in their arms, kissing.Their clothes were flung all over the floor. It was disgusting.

“What’s going on in here?” I asked.

“Oh, hey Carter…” Trevor said nervously as they broke apart from each other.

“Don’t ‘hey Carter’ me,” I said, “Not when you two were doing who knows what in here.” As I talked, my teammates started filing into the locker room. “How’s that injury, Mark? Trevor make it all better by sucking on your face?””

A few guys looked over at Mark and Trevor who were quickly getting dressed. One rolled his eyes, but it almost looked like it was directed at me. Most just sauntered their way over to their lockers in order to change, ignoring my comment. Except for Patrick.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Carter?” Patrick asked, walking over to his locker too.

“I walked in on them fooling around with each other!” I said.

“Sounds like none of your business,” A voice said from the next row of lockers.

“It is if I have to see it!” I said, slightly annoyed that no one else was taking this as seriously as they needed to, “This is our space. I shouldn’t have to feel awkward each time I’m in here with them.”

“Then don’t,” Patrick replied. “Why should we care what two people are doing? Drop it.”

“Doesn’t anyone care that it shouldn’t be happening?” I asked everyone, getting louder.

No one said anything. Everyone was just changing, going on about their business like nothing happened. Some were joking with each other or talking about practice or wondering what the other person was doing afterwards. No one seemed to care at all that two gay guys were making out in the locker room.

“Carter,” Patrick said again, staring me in the eye. “Drop it.” Patrick wrapped his towel around himself and headed to the showers. “Good practice, you guys,” He said, shooting the shit with a few others. I didn’t hear the rest of what he said as I started tuning him out again. How could I be the only one that cares about what happened?

I went over to my locker and opened it up, angrily grabbing things and piling shit into my bag. If no one wanted to back me up, fine. I grabbed all my stuff and headed out of the locker room, not giving anyone a second glance as I left.

I’d finally reached my apartment and trudged the three flights of stairs up to my front door.  I sighed as the cold air hit me as I walked inside. I dropped my duffel bag at the entrance and sauntered my way over to the fridge to grab a cold beer which I had been looking forward to all afternoon long. I cracked open the lid and took a long swig. I could feel the cold liquid sliding down, and I felt more relaxed as I took another sip.

I made my way back over to the living room where I sat down on the couch and thought again about what I had witnessed in the locker room.

“Sickos,” I said to myself. “What gives them the right?” I said to my empty apartment, draining the rest of my beer in one long gulp.

I set the empty bottle down on the end table as I kicked off my shoes, propping my feet up on the coffee table. I laid back and put my arms behind my head, relaxing into the sofa, tired from my long walk home.

“Mmmmm, damn look at that!” a male voice said, coming from somewhere in my apartment. My eyes flashed open as I quickly sat up, startled by the voice.

“Who’s there?” I asked, looking around. Silence enveloped the apartment. I waited a little bit of time to listen for a response. Seeing no one, and hearing nothing, I got up off the couch.

“Is anyone there?” I called out, but again, no reply came back. Still not hearing anything, I settled back down on the couch thinking it must have been my imagination.

“Why don’t you have another one, stud,” came the same voice as before.

I immediately shot up off the couch to look around my apartment. I heard the fridge door close and then came the familiar, “Tss” of a beer bottle opening up.

Someone was in my apartment! I slightly panicked a little. How could I have not seen them earlier?

I walked into the kitchen fully expecting to see someone, only to find a freshly opened beer with the lid lying next to it on the counter. No one was in the kitchen. There’s only one way in and I should have completely seen the intruder coming out, but I couldn’t see anybody or hear anyone else besides myself.

“Alright, what’s going on? Is there someone here? Show yourself!” I commanded to the empty space around me.

“You’re sexy when you’re angry,” came a guys’ voice from the dining room.

I ran into the dining room to see who was there, only to find the table, the chairs and a pile of clothes I’d left in here a couple days ago. All of the sudden, male voices started talking, overlapping each other and saying the most disgusting things.

“…Look at that hot ass…”

      “…love to see what you’re packing down there…”

                    “…just once, you’ll love it…”

                                   “…wear clothes like that and you’re just asking for it…”

I spun around, looking for the source of the voices but they seemed to be echoing around me, coming at me from all sides.

“Alright seriously, this isn’t funny anymore!” I angrily shouted to the empty apartment. I stopped to see if I could hear someone breathing--maybe I could tell where they were hiding. I heard only my heavy breathing and the pounding of my heart. “Seriously, this isn’t funny!” I shouted, panic creeping into my voice. As I stopped to listen, I saw my bedroom door creak open and heard hushed male voices coming from inside.

I slowly walked down the hallway, following the intruding voices. As I peered through the slightly open door, I couldn’t comprehend what I saw.

One of my dresser drawers was open, and various pairs of socks were falling out of the drawer like popcorn spilling over the edge of a bowl. On the floor, long vintage tube socks were unravelling themselves from their balled up form. Once they were lying flat, it looked like they were being pumped full of air, like sock shaped balloons. They were inflating to the shape of my legs and feet, as if someone that I couldn’t see was wearing them.

I stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed as more and more of my sock collection was doing the same thing right in front of me. Nike Dri-Fit crew socks and no-show white Hanes socks were spilling out, unravelling, filling out to articulate invisible male feet.

I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare and watch as they wiggled and flexed their toes, stretched their feet around, and rolled themselves up invisible legs. It was like watching a big group of invisible guys showing off their feet. I watched in confusion as the ghostly feet began rubbing together, wiggling against each other and writhing.

While that was happening, I saw my underwear drawer opening up. Soon pair after pair went flying out into my room. Once out of the drawer, they filled out and hovered over the socks. I saw a couple of my regular white boxer briefs and cotton boxers, but there were far more pairs of the showy designer underwear I’d wear when a girl was coming over. The shiny, silky-smooth fabric of my brand new briefs and boxer-briefs expanded around muscled, invisible thighs and hugged the outline of what I could only assume was my ass. The worst part were the massive bulges in every single one of the crotches of my underwear--bulges that were far larger than my own.

I finally regained control of myself and took a step back, not being able to comprehend what was going on. I walked back down the hallway toward the living room.

“There must have been something in that beer. I’m hallucinating.” I said aloud to myself, walking back to the living room. “That wasn’t real. Clothing can’t do what I thought I saw. It must be the combination of the hot sun and the cold beer, and now I’m seeing things.”

As I re-entered the living room, I tripped over something and fell to the floor. I took a second to collect myself and rolled onto my back, propping myself up on my elbows to see what I had tripped on. One of the shoes I had kicked off earlier was right down by my foot. I stared at it, and it started to move by itself too. It started to rock back and forth slightly, standing on its toes and then resting on its heel, lifting up its toes into the air. The laces loosened up and the shoe opened up on each side. It then hovered up into the air and started to slide itself onto my socked foot.

I didn’t know what to do as I watched this haunted shoe slide onto my foot. One thing was for sure--I didn’t want to wear a shoe that could move on its own! I kicked my leg and sent the shoe flying through the air down the hall.

I figured it would simply fall to the ground and slide down the hardwood floor, but instead, it stopped in mid-air, turning itself around so that it was facing me. It hovered for another second before slamming itself hard down onto the floor.

I heard some commotion coming from my bedroom. I watched as the door opened and my sock collection came running out into the hallway. I tried to back away from the approaching collection until I hit the wall of my living room. They all ran up to me, stopping right next to my legs and standing all around. Now my underwear also floated down the hallway towards me, assembling above the enchanted socks so that it looked like a team of mostly-nude invisible guys was surrounding me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my clothes in the dining room moving around. The crumpled up outfit I had slid out of a couple days ago was moving by itself. I watched as the arms of a long-sleeved t-shirt rose up into the air, pulling the rest of the shirt with it. They started to balloon out--the sleeves inflating and the fabric swelling to imitate muscular forearms. Moving up the sleeves, a bicep popped the fabric out, and the definition continued through the shape of muscular shoulders and firm pecs. The fabric slid down now, giving off the hint of a washboard stomach as the unseen figure in its fabric shifted back and forth. The jeans also rose up off the floor, inflating to what I recognized as my shape. They walked over to find their place under the t-shirt--assembling a complete figure.  

“What the hell is going on here!?” I shouted at my clothing in a trembling panic.

I watched as a pair of underwear flew into my field of vision. Not just any pair of underwear, I noticed, but one of my favorite pairs. The orange and grey nylon trunk briefs hovered inches from my face. As if being face to face with them wasn’t bad enough, I knew this was a pair from my dirty laundry pile as I frequently wore them. I could smell my sweat emanating from the fabric as they slowly approached, hovering millimeters from my face, their fabric shifting slowly across invisible thigh muscles that suspiciously resembled my own.

“Dude, there’s no need to get so angry, we just want to have a little fun together,” the underwear said to me, bumping against my nose with their bulging crotch. I tried turning my head away, but every way I turned I was met with a faceful of orange fabric. I could feel the toes of some of the socks starting to touch my thighs and legs, poking into me and sliding up and down my skin. I tried to move away from them, but every direction I moved brought me in contact with more of my own possessed clothes, pushing me around and prodding me like I was some kind of toy. One of the socks stepped up onto my thigh and started to slide over to my crotch, and I stared down at it, nervously sucking air.

The underwear in front of my face moved away, and I watched, terrified and motionless as the sock on my thigh slowly slid over so that the arch of the sock was resting against my cock.. It started to rub itself against my track pants with deliberate purpose.

I couldn’t believe what was happening. I looked over at the t-shirt and jeans outfit and saw the sleeve of the t-shirt moving around. The crotch of the pants were moving in rhythm with the sleeve--looking like an invisible hand was stroking the outside of the jeans. I swallowed hard as I watched a sizeable bulge growing in the denim.

My attention shot back to the sock; the track pants were shifting around again. I looked down to see them starting to untie themselves, watching the strings rise into the air like thin nylon snakes. Once they untied, the pants ballooned at the waist  enough to slide down over my butt.

“No, Stop!” I cried out, as I grabbed them to try and pull them back up.

“No never meant anything to you before, Carter,” my underwear said to me. “Why should it mean something now?”

I heard more footsteps in the hallway, looking up just in time to see several more pairs of socks walking into the living room, followed by some of my more colorful, showy underwear. A pair of tube socks walked up to either side of me and wrapped themselves around my biceps like hollow cotton pythons, throwing my arms behind my back and making me drop the waistband of my track pants. Another pair of socks snaked themselves around my wrist, effectively immobilizing my arms. My track pants resumed their slow slide down my thighs. The smooth fabric had inflated all around my legs, just enough to tickle my thigh and leg hair as they slid themselves down.

After slipping off my feet, the track pants hovered back up into the air as my sock resumed its attention to my dick, this time joined by its mate. My cock was growing due to the attention of this phantom fabric toying with me, but it wasn’t a conscious reaction. I couldn’t exactly help it.

One of the boxer-briefs flew over to the track pants and started rubbing its bulge against the shiny fabric butt of the pants, pulled tight from being slightly bent over. Before long, the track pants were pressing themselves back against the underwear, joining the skivvies in a lewd dance miming two male forms grinding on each other.

“Oh Carter, isn’t this just the hottest thing you’ve ever seen?” the t-shirt and jeans outfit asked as it watched what was happening, still rubbing the puffing bulge in the denim. It had a clear shape now, one that was making me worried about what these haunted clothes had in mind. Was I dreaming? Was this payback for what I did earlier?

How many beers did I have?

“NO! This is the gayest shit I’ve ever seen!” I shot back

“Little Carter doesn’t seem to mind that,” the outfit responded back. I looked down to my cock, already knowing they were right. My soft socks were playing against me in all the right places, moving so that the underside of their toes pressed to either side of my cock. They were rubbing up and down as they hovered in the air; the thick, slippery white cotton sliding softly up and down. It felt wonderful--they were pressing into me with just the right amount of force.

A pair of my tight red briefs flew down to my feet and started to pull themselves up my legs. As they slid up my legs, the fabric would tickle my leg hair. The combination of fabric sliding up my legs and the Nike socks on my cock caused me to shiver uncontrollably.

As they glided all the way up, they lifted the waistband up and over my cock and settled onto me. My socks moved out of the way long enough for the briefs to slide into place, coming back and rubbing me through my underwear--now joining in on the attention to my cock. I felt hands starting to rub my butt through my underwear, turning over my shoulder to see the smooth fabric moving itself in motions that looked and felt like fingertips lightly tracing circles around my cheeks. I winced as some of the fingers got between my cheeks, dangerously close to my hole.

As I tried to move away from the touch, I bucked my cock into the socks, which responded by grabbing hold of my cock with their toes. Some of the pairs of underwear flew down and surrounded me, rubbing silky fabric along my restrained arms, sliding their asses along my legs and running the tips of jutting cocks along my abs and chest.

“Are you ready to admit how much you like this?” Th jeans and t-shirt outfit asked. “You know how good it feels...” An invisible hand was still rubbing the denim lasciviously.

“No,” I said, shivering and fighting back a moan from all the concentrated attention I was receiving. “I’m not gay.”

"Alright, time for Plan B,” the outfit said.

Plan B? What else could happen? I thought to myself.

Now I noticed I was being lifted up into the air. Everything surrounding me followed along with me,  continuing their assault against my senses. Soon I found myself floating head-first on my back, down the hallway. I was still tied up and held captive by the socks on my arms while my underwear continued to press into me from all sides and my socks kept their attention on my cock.

I looked up to see the jeans and t-shirt outfit walking behind me. The sleeves were no longer rubbing themselves around on the massive bulge they’d formed. Instead, one of my leather baseball batting gloves was doing the job all by itself. It positioned itself at the end of one of the sleeves, right where a hand would be. I watched the leather flexing, grabbing, rubbing...moving just like a hand was inside of it. I looked past the outfit and saw everything else climbing out of my gym bag...

Over by my front door, self-walking socks rose up into the air and slid themselves inside of my living shoes, lacing themselves up. The shoes and socks walked down the hallway, following my outfit. A parade of clothing was now following the socks and underwear holding me captive, forcing me to endure their cottony, satiny assault on my senses. It did feel good, but I refused to accept that I was getting turned on by this...though I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. They were strong, and--it seemed--very determined.

Inside the bedroom, I was set softly down onto my mattress. Looking around, I saw that my entire closet and dressers had been emptied of their contents. Different styles and pairs of jeans and khakis, shorts, long and short-sleeved dress shirts, cotton tees and muscle shirts covering cut, tight-muscled chests, underwear, long and short socks were all standing around the bed or hovering in the air. Some of them formed outfits. A white long-sleeved dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up just the way I like it was hovering above a pair of my khaki pants. Beneath that was a pair of dress shoes, tightening their laces and tying themselves up.

“Oh Caaaaaarteeeeer,” came a masculine voice from the group of clothes. A pair of skinny khaki pants walked out in front of the group of assembled clothing. “Remember me, big guy?” The pants asked. “Remember all the fun we used to have posing in front of the mirror together?” I blushed. I remembered getting the pants with one of my exes that thought they’d look ‘cute’ on me. The truth was, I liked wearing them--feeling the tight pants grip every part of me and show off my package--but I’d never worn them outside of my apartment, for fear of someone thinking I was some hipster douche. But the feeling of them so tight on my skin...yeah. I’d wear them inside my apartment with no one else around.

They stepped up onto the bed, invisible weight indenting the mattress where the feet would be. The animated pants walked up to me, stopping and standing right above my midsection. They bent at the knees, collapsing slightly as they straddled my thighs, just below my socks--still keeping up their sensual cock-massage. I could feel legs inside the tight khakis as they grabbed me and held my legs closed with their own, but there was no one there. I could see the waistband on the back of the pants, and the fabric and stitching of the inside of them. I could tell the tightly-filled pants were sporting a clearly masculine shape. I could even feel the muscles inside the empty pant legs as they closed their thighs on mine tightly, and starting to make a motion like they were riding me up and down.

“Why don’t you slip those hot muscled legs of yours inside of me again, and we can really have some fun?”

My cock twitched involuntarily as I imagined what it would be like to slide my legs slowly into the living leg openings. I wondered what it would feel like to have them adjusting themselves on me as they pulled themselves up my legs. I thought about how it would look to see them zip themselves up and button without my hands anywhere near the fly.

My socks felt my cock jump and moved away, jumping down off my body and standing next to me on the mattress, making room for my skinny khakis to slide up my body. As they straddled my crotch, they pressed their ass down onto my cock. My underwear responded by shifting and moving me beneath them so that my cock rested right between the well-defined ass of the khakis.

“How does that feel, stud?” My khakis asked me, sliding their ass up and down against my cock, held tight  by my underwear.

“It feels amazing,” I said without even thinking, lost in the pleasure momentarily.

I’m being humped by clothing, and while it’s only clothing, it’s male clothing. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was a woman, or even female clothing. I could deal with that, but this? How is it I’m getting turned on by this?  

“That’s wonderful, Carter. I wanna feel you inside me,” they responded.

Murmurs of approval went out throughout my clothes assembled in my room, and I suddenly remembered we were being watched.

“No, gross!” I suddenly yelled at them, bucking my hips into the air--trying to get them off of me.

“Yeah, that’s the way! Fuck me, Carter!” The khakis yelled as they wrapped their calves under my legs. I stopped so they wouldn’t think I actually wanted this. They climbed off, laughing.

“We’re just playing! Don’t get all bent out of shape,” they said as they walked off the bed. The t-shirt and jeans outfit, which had silently been watching me from the side of the bed, kneeled down and whispered into my ear.

“You were so close, Carter...so close to untold pleasure.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not gay?” I yelled back at the clothing

assembled around me. “I don’t want this! I don’t want any of it!” I screamed as I tried to fight against my living clothing bonds holding me tight and in place on my bed.

“To enjoy what’s happening here,” the outfit said, “you just have to be brave. Anyway, someone’s been dying to meet you, and I don’t want to postpone your meeting any longer.”

“What? Someone’s actually here?” Oh shit, I couldn’t let anyone see me like this. It would be so embarrassing, and I wouldn’t know how to ever start...

“Hey buddy, wanna play some ball together?” I looked over to the foot of the bed to the source of the voice, and once again my cock twitched involuntarily. “Back off boys, he’s all mine.” My jockstrap said as it hovered high over my bed.

The Nike socks that had been standing on either side of me on the mattress jumped off and walked over to join the other clothes. The socks that had been holding my arms back let go and snaked off the bed. The underwear that put themselves on me in the living room gave my hard cock one last tug before wiggling off my ass and sliding down my legs, rubbing against me as they did so. Once off, they swooped into the air, joining the other pairs.

“Now you’re all mine,” the jockstrap said, hovering forward in the air, slowly getting closer. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time Carter, and now nothing’s going to stop me from it.”

All my clothes were talking dirty to me, and I didn’t know what to say or do. My cock stayed hard, showing no signs mellowing out. Whatever else I consciously thought of this--my body obviously found it exciting in ways I couldn’t explain.

The jockstrap stopped right above my cock, and slowly lowered itself. It grazed its leg straps against the skin of my thighs, sending shivers up and down my body. It wrapped a leg strap around my cock a couple times, squeezing it and moving up and down on my shaft. I let out a long, loud moan. It just felt too good not to keep it in.

“Yeah, that’s it Carter,” my jockstrap purred to me as it masterfully worked my cock. “I can make you feel sooo good.”

“Go with it, Carter. Allow yourself to experience this,” the t-shirt whispered into my ear. “We can show you so much more, but you have to say yes to us; to all of us.”

I couldn’t fight it anymore. Whatever strength I had in me to resist their advances, to resist the pleasure that was promised to me--it vanished as soon as my jockstrap hovered over and starting stroking me off like a pro.

It’s not like there were any actual guys here, just my clothes--which had been on my skin before, holding my cock, keeping me warm and safe. Now they were promising even more, and they seemed to be of a single motivation.

There isn’t anyone else here, I repeated again to myself, just me and my clothes.

I couldn’t hold back. I wanted to feel what this felt like. I wanted my legs to be swallowed up by my khakis. I wanted to know what kind of trouble my gloves could get into. I wanted underwear playing with my cock and long-sleeved collared shirts buttoning up and tightening over my torso, making invisible hands rake across my chest.

I wanted to fuck--and I wanted to do it now.

“Yes,” I whispered, “I’m ready to give in to you…to all of you.”

It was like a lightning bolt hit the room. Something had changed in the air. Instead of my clothes continuing to be sensual and playful, now they got serious and forceful.

“We’re proud of you Carter. Let’s have some fun,” my jockstrap said as it yanked my cock forcefully, dragging me down the bed and making me lie flat on my back.

“Me first!” one of my vintage tube socks yelled as I watched it fly over from where it had been hovering close by. It jumped down onto the mattress and stepped up onto my thigh, standing close to my cock.

“I’ve been waiting to do this to you for a long time,” it said, as it slid the leg opening of itself onto the head of my cock, contracting and squeezing itself tight against me as it kept going down. I gasped, lifting up my hips and pushing into my sock to help it along. It suctioned itself tight against my cock as it slid itself all the way down. Once it had swallowed me up into itself, it started to suck me off. At least, that’s what it felt like. It was slowly working itself up and down vacuumed tight against me. I shuddered and arched my back, curling my toes as my sock jacked me off without me having to do anything.

My jockstrap fell back down, wrapping a leg strap around the foot part of the sock that was hovering mid-air and yanked it off, throwing it up into the air towards my face where it landed on my chest.

“You’ll have time for that later,” the jockstrap said. The sock stood up on my chest and turned around to face me.

 

“That’s right. We’ll have plenty of time,” the sock said, tapping its soft outlined fabric toes on my chin. It then flew up into the air, joined its mate and flew down to my feet where they both swallowed up my feet inside their hollow forms. The jockstrap also flew down to my feet, stretching the straps around them and onto my legs. It quickly sailed right on up, lifting up and over my cock, situating itself on me. I felt the straps tightening up, adjusting themselves on my ass--then the front molded itself on my cock. It looked like a fabric dildo, molded exactly to my shape.

I watched as my skinny khakis walked over to the side of the bed, now with a noticeable recent addition in the crotch area. They stepped up onto the bed, straddling me just like they were earlier. I saw one of my leather batting gloves fly over to the crotch of the pants, rubbing the massive bulge. I hungrily watched as they started humping against the glove, their hollow fabric ass bouncing slightly against my cock. I reached over, grabbing the outside of the glove and moved it against the crotch of the pants myself, my fingers resting above the fingers of the glove.

The jockstrap lifted my entire pelvis up and started to rub my cock against the ass of the pants, going up and behind it, feeling just enough of the pants to drive me wild with sexual desire. I watched the glove teasing the cock inside the khakis as I directed it over the area, and saw the form inside twitch with excitement. A pair of my no show gym socks jumped up onto the bed, put themselves onto the end of the khakis, and wiggled their toes inside the fabric, making it look like the khakis were wearing them. I grabbed the socked feet and rubbed them against the skin of my thighs. I grabbed their feet, feeling a ghostly form inside the fabric, and took over for my jockstrap humping the ass of my khakis.

I was lifted up into the air by my living jockstrap, and the other clothing once again followed with it. I felt myself turning over in midair, until I was lying face down, facing my bed. I was rotated so that I was upright, facing the wall above my bed.

“Tuck your legs behind you,” my jockstrap said.

I listened and bent my knees so my legs were sticking straight out behind me. My socks were rubbing my feet vigorously, and the leg part was sliding up and down my legs, tickling my leg hair as it went.

A blue under armour muscle tee flew up to where we were and faced me in midair.

“Trust me” it said in a deep, masculine voice. It then flew above me, starting to put itself on me. It slid over my head, and I stuck my arms up in the air so it could slide on easily. I put my arms through the arm holes, and it slid all the way down onto my shoulders, tightening on my chest and enveloping my abs. I could feel fingers and hands pressing into my body all over, massaging my back, chest and abs as my shirt enveloped me in a smooth, sensual compression embrace as it situated itself on me.

The khakis grinding my hips started to move too. The legs released their grip on my pelvis and rotated in mid-air to face away from me. Then they bent their knees like mine and backed up into me. One of the leather baseball gloves slipped itself on my hand, leading me towards the khakis. They stuck their ass directly onto my jockstrap fabric covered cock. My jockstrap let go of my cock and took itself off me, sliding down my legs, and rose up in front of me while my khakis kept my cock held between their thighs.

“Fuck me Carter, I want to feel you inside me now,” my pants said, grinding their ass against my cock.

I looked up at my jockstrap, and it spoke to me too.

“We’ve all wanted you for far too long Carter. Now, we’re going to find out what it’s like to wear you for a change.”

I heard the tearing of fabric, and looked down to see that the ass of my khakis had ripped open. The bent over ass started to tease the tip of my cock against the ripped seam. I gasped loudly, feeling warm skin inside the khakis press against my cock. The baseball glove on my hand forced me to move it around to the front of the khakis, feeling the huge bulge inside the front of the khakis. The baseball glove did all the work for me, and I just went with it.

The glove on my hand then pulled the hips of the khakis into my crotch, and the ass of the khakis started to back up into me, as I felt my cock start to slide into a tight, invisible ass. It felt so smooth, pressing into me on all sides. I looked down into the waist of the khakis, and I could see my cock as it entered inside my khakis from the ripped opening in their backside. As I slid inside them, I could see my compressed cock slowly inserted into the invisible, magical ass inside the pants.

“Oh my god Carter, you’re so huge! Thrust that hot cock into my ass!” my khakis yelled at me, The khakis bent their legs at the knees bringing their socked feet up to rub my legs and hold me tight against them, forcing me deeper into their wiggling, inviting opening. I could feel the enchanted asshole tighten around me as the cheeks of the tight khakis flexed, and I cried out in pleasure.

I completely overtaken by my clothing now. If this is what it felt like, I didn’t want to care anymore. I just want to feel this again and again. This tight, smooth ass my cock was in was just too perfectly fitted to it, and I started thrusting in and out of my khakis’ ass, forcefully fucking them. They moaned loudly, and I could feel the socks really start to wiggle their toes against the back of my thighs.

My black and white leather baseball glove that had been on my hand fondling the cock inside the front of the khakis took itself off of me while the zipper of the khakis started to open. Once it had, I saw a big, round opening where something massive would have been sticking out. I maneuvered both of my hands around to grab at the hips of the khaki pants while I watched the glove fly up to my chest. Another pair of my silky trunk-style underwear approached the invisible cock sticking out of the khakis and turned around, pressing its ass to the khakis while my baseball glove and its mate started rubbing my chest--tweaking my hardened nipples.

I noticed when I would thrust my cock into the khakis, they would be able to fuck the underwear in front of them. I grabbed the khakis at the front pockets and slid my hands into them, pulling them tight against me as I slid deep inside of them. I looked down to see my cock slide further into the empty khakis, almost touching the inside front of the pants. Once I was balls in, the underwear slid themselves onto the tool sticking out of the front of the khakis, and I started to thrust in and out holding them against me.

A long moan came out of the khakis and underwear, and I could feel the khakis start to thrust themselves into the underwear, while at the same time riding me while I bucked in and out of them.The thighs of the pants rocked back and forth in a wavelike motion, expertly riding me. I soon noticed that I didn’t have to do anything while they rode me. They would do all the work for me while fucking my other underwear. My jockstrap was still hovering in front of us, watching us, while my muscle tee bent me forward towards it.

“How does that feel, Carter?” the jockstrap asked.

“It feels…so tight…so amazing,” I responded back to them, breathing heavily as my khakis rode my cock back and forth.

“That’s my boy,” they said. “I need to taste you,” they said.

Taste me? How would they do that?

The jockstrap hovered inches from my face. I could see the individual fabric strands and the faint stains from repeatedly coming into them over the years followed by a washing. They were still filled out to the shape of a person, the waistband and leg straps still ballooning out behind them. I grabbed my khakis tight in front of me, and they wiggled their ass against my cock. As they did so, I inhaled sharply feeling the new sensation. As soon as I opened up my mouth, my jockstrap pressed its bulge up against my face.

An instant revulsion arose, but I kept it down, only to feel a different sensation quickly take its place. Hunger. I wanted to please them just as much as they were pleasing me. I could smell today on them, and how much I sweat into them. My own scent was driving me crazy with desire for my horny clothing come to life. I’d never wanted anything more. I had been holding back up until this point, but I couldn’t hold back anymore. I don’t care what people call me. I don’t care who sees this, it’s too hot to ever want to stop or say no ever again.

I did the unthinkable and stuck my tongue out to lick my jockstrap’s hollow fabric. As soon as my tongue made contact with the fabric, it was like a light switch had been flicked on in me, and I was filled with horny intense sexual desire. I licked slowly, sensually, from the base of its invisible bulging cock to the tip. I let out a cry of horny tension, and they sensed it. They backed off my eager mouth and I whimpered softly as I stuck my head forward, wanting more.

“Do you want this, Carter?” My jockstrap asked me.

“Oh, fuck yes,” I breathlessly responded.

As the bulge grew, so did my desire to pleasure it. I bent forward more towards the hovering, horny jockstrap. I needed that cock against my lips badly. My blue under armour shirt pushed me quickly into the pouch where the cock was rapidly forming. I cried out in surprise only to be met with a mouthful of living jockstrap fabric cock which I could feel wiggling against my mouth.

“Trevor liked this too,” my jockstrap said to me. “In fact, he was on his knees in front of Mark, just like you’re in front of me now.”

I imagined the scene in the locker room again. Mark and Trevor holding each other, clothes strewn about. I imagined Trevor knelt in front of Mark, their uniforms in various positions around them, touching them. Teasing them. Prodding...rubbing...fucking.

I opened my mouth to let out a moan, only to be greeted by my jockstrap’s hot, massive cock pushing itself into my mouth.

“Where did you think we learned it?” my jockstrap asked me again. I couldn’t respond as I had a mouthful of fabric. All I could do was moan into them and fuck my pants faster.

My khakis could feel the change in me, and so could my underwear being fucked by my khakis. The underwear leapt off the front of them, while my khakis turned around on my cock, as if the person wearing them was now lying on their back--their legs wrapped around my back. My baseball glove put itself back on my hand and I grabbed the invisible cock of my khaki pants and started to jack it off while I held them tight against me and rammed my cock into their ass.

I couldn’t get enough of my khaki pants or my jockstrap’s cock in my mouth. My blue muscle t-shirt lifted me off the pouch of the jockstrap, and I watched as the invisible cock was growing, until the jockstrap fabric became a massive fabric cock sticking straight out from the waistband. There wasn’t any extra fabric. The fabric had molded completely around its invisible dick. I looked at it hungrily, and went down in it, swallowing it to the hilt in one shot.

“Yeah, that’s it Carter, suck your jockstrap!” it yelled at me, my other baseball glove still rubbing my back moved up onto my head, and pressed my head down onto the jock. I could feel it face fucking me, and I was moving my head back and forth, going up and down on it, tasting myself and feeling it twitch and pulse, almost as if it was coming into my mouth.

I was building up an orgasm of my own. My khaki pants tensed up their ass while I was inside, and an ass I couldn’t think get any tighter just did. I moaned into my jockstrap still fucking my mouth, and felt my cock tense up in that familiar way.

My khaki pants wrapped their legs around my back tighter, pulling me into them as I felt my socks pressing into my muscles, wiggling their toes  and raking them up and down my back.

“Come for me Carter, come inside me!” My khakis screamed out. I couldn’t hold back any longer. My muscles contracted all over my body and I gave a final, complete in and out thrust into my khakis as my cock exploded with cum. I shot rope after rope into them. I could hear my cum hitting the back of the pants, and they soaked up every drop, making a lip smacking sound.

“Mmm, you taste so good, Carter,” my khaki pants said to me.

“Save some for the rest of us,” my jockstrap jokingly said.

“That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt,” I breathlessly said to my clothes, as they settled me back down onto my mattress. “When can we do that again?”

“You have to rest now, Carter,” the jeans and t-shirt outfit said to me, walking forward from leaning against the wall. I realized they’d been watching this whole time.

“Thank you,” I said to all of them.

“You don’t have to thank us,” The outfit responded back.

I was suddenly very tired. As I lay down on my bed, my khakis slid off my cock and my track pants I’d been wearing when I first got home moved over to the bed. They went down by my feet and said, “Lift your legs.”

My socks I was still wearing on my feet lifted up my legs, settling down onto me. They put my legs back down onto the bed, and my covers wrapped themselves around me holding me tight.

“Sleep tight, stud,” my jockstrap said to me, as it went to hide back in the underwear drawer. All my other clothes started to either hang back up in my closet or walk out of my bedroom.

“Where are they going?” I groggily asked the jeans and t-shirt outfit.

“They’re just going to hang out and wait for your strength to be built back up,” the outfit said. “Trust me, we’re not going anywhere.”

I laid my head against the pillow and closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep. That night, I had some of the most amazing dreams I’d had in a long time. In the morning, I woke up to see my jockstrap hovering at the foot of the bed again.

“Good morning stud,” they said. “What do you say we have some fun again?”

“I’d love that!” I shouted back, sitting up in bed.

“Great, us too!” They said. “We think Trevor and Mark would really like it too!”