Jocks

I remember the first time I wore a jockstrap in middle school. Pretty much everyone was horrified by the strange underwear we had to wear for gym that left your buttocks exposed. It felt odd, too, with the fabric of your gym clothes rubbing against your bare backside.

Boys mocked each other in the lockerroom. The gym teacher would check that you were wearing one -- he called it an "athletic supporter" -- by reaching his hand inside your shorts leg and snapping the elastic band.

Sometime in high school, however, I began to realize I liked watching other boys, particularly the older athletic ones, when they wandered around the lockerroom wearing only their jockstraps. There was something so alluring about their snug buttocks framed with their supporter. That was when I began to realize I was different.