David and Son's Plumbing Services
Alex had grown up with the clang of pipes and the scent of solder wafting through the air. His father, David, ran their family business, David and Son's Plumbing Services, with pride and dedication. But as much as Alex admired his dad's work ethic, there was one aspect that always filled him with embarrassment: his dad’s tendency to show his ass crack.
From the time Alex was old enough to work, he would watch in mortification as his dad's pants would inevitably slide down, revealing his plumber’s crack whenever he bent over to work.
As Alex grew older, the embarrassment only intensified, particularly when they visited friends' houses for plumbing jobs. Alex would feel his cheeks burn as he caught his friends stifling laughter behind their hands or exchanging knowing glances whenever his dad's pants began their inevitable descent. Each laugh felt like a dagger to his pride, a constant reminder of the unintentional spectacle his dad unwittingly created.
Despite Alex's best efforts to discreetly signal to his dad to tug his own pants up, David remained blissfully unaware of the attention his wardrobe malfunction attracted. To him, it was just another day on the job, focused solely on fixing leaks and unclogging drains.
But for Alex, the second-hand embarrassment weighed heavily on his shoulders, threatening to drown him in a sea of humiliation with each outing. He found himself longing for the day when his dad would invest in a sturdy belt or perhaps even a pair of suspenders, anything to spare them both from the embarrassment of his perpetual plumber's crack. Until then, Alex could only grit his teeth and pray for the ground to swallow him whole whenever his dad bent over to work.
Alex had to take matters into his own hands. He knew he couldn't afford designer underwear, so he settled for the affordable but embarrassing Fruit of the Loom tighty whities. It took all his willpower not to blush as he approached his dad.
“Um, Dad, we need to talk about something,” Alex began tentatively, shifting uncomfortably.
David glanced up from his newspaper, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What's on your mind, Alex?”
Clearing his throat, Alex pushed forward, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment. “It's about... your underwear,” he mumbled, struggling to meet his dad's gaze.
“My underwear?” David echoed, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Alex nodded, steeling himself for the awkward conversation ahead. “You... you need to start wearing some. You know, because...” he trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it outright.
A knowing smile tugged at the corners of David's lips. “Because of my plumber's crack, right?”
Alex winced, feeling a pang of guilt for having to bring it up. “Yeah, Dad. It's... it's embarrassing. All my friends keep making fun, and... taking pictures of your... butt.”
David chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Well, maybe your friends should learn some manners,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“No, Dad, it's not just them,” Alex interjected, his tone more serious now as he handed over the pack of tighty whities. “It's embarrassing for me too.”
David's expression softened as he accepted the package from his son. “I understand, Alex. Thanks for letting me know.”
Feeling a weight lift off his shoulders, Alex managed a small smile. “You're welcome, Dad.”
With a nod of appreciation, David headed off to his room, leaving Alex to breathe a sigh of relief. It wasn't an easy conversation, but he was glad he had finally mustered the courage to address the issue. And as he watched his dad disappear down the hallway, Alex couldn't help but feel hopeful that things would soon improve.
A Job at Mike’s
Eventually, the embarrassment faded away. Laughter tapered off, and fewer eyes lingered on David’s ample behind. Alex felt a wave of relief wash over him. It seemed that the worst was behind him... until Mike struck again.
As David knelt down to work under the sink, the scene painted a picture of diligent labor mingled with unintentional exposure. His broad shoulders strained against the fabric of his worn-out work shirt, a testament to years of manual labor. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead as he focused intently on the task at hand, his hands deftly maneuvering tools with practiced ease.
But it was the sight below his waist that drew the most attention – and not for the right reasons. As he leaned forward, his pants sagged down over his ample behind, revealing the unmistakable waistband of his Fruit of the Loom tighty whities. The white fabric stood out starkly against his dark work pants, a stark contrast that only accentuated the exposure.
The waistband hugged his hips snugly, struggling to keep his pants from sliding further down as he worked. Despite his best efforts, the elastic band was no match for the relentless pull of gravity, leaving a sliver of white fabric exposed for all to see.
With each movement, the waistband peeked out like an unwelcome guest, a constant reminder of David's wardrobe malfunction. And yet, he remained oblivious, his focus unwavering as he continued to tackle the plumbing problem with determination.
As Mike catches sight of Alex's dad David bent over with his tighty whities showing, a sudden surge of arousal courses through him. His pulse quickens, and his cheeks flush with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment at his body's response to the unexpected sight.
Feeling a rush of adrenaline, Mike's first instinct is to avert his gaze, but the allure of the moment proves too strong to resist. Instead, he finds himself transfixed, his eyes lingering on the sight before him, captivated by the glimpse of David's exposed backside.
With a shaky hand, Mike reaches for his phone, his fingers trembling as he fumbles to unlock the screen. His mind races with the possibilities of capturing such an intimate moment, knowing full well the thrill it would bring. Despite the conflict within him, the desire to preserve the moment overwhelms any sense of hesitation.
Summoning all his courage, Mike discreetly snaps a quick photo, his heart pounding in his chest as he captures the scene in all its titillating glory. The image burns brightly on his phone screen, a potent reminder of the unexpected arousal sparked by David's unintentional exposure.
With a mix of guilt and excitement, Mike quickly pockets his phone, his mind buzzing with the illicit thrill of the moment. Though conflicted by his own reaction, he can't deny the rush of arousal that pulses through him, leaving him both exhilarated and uneasy in its wake.
***
Later that night, Alex idly scrolled through his Instagram feed, expecting the usual mix of memes and snapshots of friends' daily adventures. However, his casual browsing took an unexpected turn when he stumbled upon a photo that nearly caused him to hurl his phone across the room in frustration.
Fury surged through Alex as he read the mocking caption, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment and anger. How could Mike betray him like this, sharing such an embarrassing moment with the world for the sake of a few laughs? The thought of his dad's unintentional exposure being broadcast to their entire social circle filled him with a mixture of humiliation and outrage.
With a deep breath, Alex clenched his fists, struggling to contain his emotions as he debated how to respond. Should he confront Mike and demand the photo be taken down, or would that only draw more attention to the humiliating situation? As he weighed his options, one thing was clear: his best friend had crossed a line, and Alex was determined to set things right.
***
The tension in the air was palpable as Alex confronted his friend Mike, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Mike shifted uncomfortably under Alex's intense gaze, a guilty expression flickering across his face.
"What the hell, Mike?" Alex's voice was sharp, laced with anger and betrayal. "I trusted you, and you go behind my back and take a photo of my dad in his tighty whities? What were you thinking?"
Mike's eyes darted away, unable to meet Alex's accusing stare. "I-I didn't mean for it to be a big deal, Alex," he stammered, his voice tinged with regret. "I just thought it was funny, you know? I didn't think it would upset you."
"Upset me?" Alex's voice rose with frustration. "Do you have any idea how humiliating it is for me? My dad's already embarrassed enough by his wardrobe malfunctions, and now you've gone and shared it with the whole world!"
The words hung heavy in the air as Mike attempted to break the tension with a feeble attempt at humor. "Sorry, Alex, but your dad's rear end looks so good in those undies," he chuckled awkwardly, hoping to lighten the mood.
But Alex's expression remained stony, his eyes narrowed with disbelief. "That's not funny, Mike," he retorted sharply, his voice laced with frustration. "You think it's okay to objectify my dad like that? To make fun of him for something he can't control?"
Mike's laughter faltered, replaced by a sheepish expression as he realized the gravity of his words. "I-I didn't mean it like that, Alex," he stammered, his tone earnest. "I was just trying to lighten the mood, you know? I didn't mean to upset you."
Alex's jaw tightened as he struggled to contain his anger. "Well, you did," he replied tersely, his voice low with irritation. "And you've done enough damage already."
Despite the tension between them, Mike persisted, his expression earnest as he attempted to salvage their friendship. "Look, Alex, I know I messed up," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "But can't we just move past this? I don't want to lose our friendship over a stupid mistake."
But Alex remained resolute, his resolve unwavering. "I wish it were that simple, Mike," he sighed heavily, his disappointment palpable. "But trust is earned, and you've lost mine. I can't just pretend like nothing happened."
With that final declaration, Alex turned away, leaving Mike standing alone with his regret. It was a painful realization, one that would leave a permanent mark on their friendship, forever altered by the consequences of a thoughtless act.
***
The College Years
Throughout his college years, Alex remained by his father's side, working diligently at their family plumbing business. Unlike his father, Alex made sure to dress impeccably, opting for tight-fitting jeans cinched securely with a belt. He was determined not to become the subject of any jokes, especially not for a wardrobe malfunction.
However, beneath his carefully chosen attire lay a secret that Alex kept guarded with the utmost secrecy. Despite his outward appearance of confidence, Alex harbored a unique preference when it came to underwear. He wore thongs, a clandestine indulgence kept carefully concealed beneath his outwardly mundane attire. For Alex, they weren't just a choice of underwear; they were a secret source of stimulation and focus during the long hours spent toiling away at work and burying his nose in textbooks.
In the midst of the monotonous routine of fixing pipes and mending leaks, the sensation of the thong against his hole provided a welcome distraction, keeping his mind sharp and his senses heightened. It was as if each gentle rub against his sensitive hole served as a reminder of the world beyond the confines of plumbing fixtures and academic lectures.
But the thong served another, more practical purpose for Alex – it kept him alert and awake during the grueling hours spent on the job. With the constant sensation of the thong against his skin, it was impossible for him to drift off into the drowsy lull that often accompanied long stretches of manual labor. Instead, he remained vigilant, his senses attuned to every creak and groan of the pipes around him.
And then there was the matter of his appearance – Alex was acutely aware of the potential embarrassment that came with his father's habit of letting his pants sag. With a belt securely in place, he remained ever vigilant, constantly adjusting his pants to ensure they stayed firmly in position, sparing himself – and his father – from the embarrassment of any unintentional exposure.
So, as Alex navigated the complexities of work and study, the thong remained his silent companion, providing him with the focus and stimulation he needed to stay sharp and alert in a world that often seemed determined to lull him into complacency.
Alex Visits Mike
Alex had reluctantly accepted a plumbing job at Mike’s off-campus apartment. It wasn’t ideal—in fact, he still felt bitter about their falling out—but he needed the money, and Mike’s kitchen sink was leaking badly enough to justify calling in a favor. Even so, the air between them was tense. As Alex unpacked his tools that morning, Mike tried to soften the mood.
"Hey, man, after you finish up here, you wanna grab some lunch? We could talk… clear the air," Mike offered, an uncharacteristic sheepishness in his tone.
Alex didn’t look up from his toolbox. "Maybe," he muttered. "I’m still not exactly over what happened."
Mike’s smile faded. "I get it. I’m sorry, again. I really am. I’ll leave you to it," he said, grabbing his keys. "I have some errands to run. Just lock up when you're done if I’m not back."
"Fine," Alex replied without turning around.
Mike left with the door clicking shut behind him, leaving Alex alone in the small kitchen. He sighed, wiping a hand across his face. At least he could work in peace.
Alex crouched under the sink, inspecting the pipes. It wasn’t a complicated fix—just a matter of tightening some fittings and replacing a worn-out washer—but he wanted to do a thorough job. His jeans felt unusually loose as he shifted, and that’s when he realized he had forgotten his belt. A pang of annoyance rippled through him. He always wore a belt, especially after years of working with his dad and being hyper-aware of how easily pants could sag at the worst moments.
Determined not to let it distract him, he positioned himself more carefully, gripping his jeans at the waist to keep them in place as he slid further under the sink. He didn’t notice the loose nail sticking up from the wooden floor near the sink’s edge—not until it snagged the back of his jeans with a soft but ominous pop.
Alex froze.
He shifted his hips, tugging gently, but the nail held firm. The more he wriggled, the more it seemed to tighten its grip. His jeans were trapped. He groaned under his breath, cursing his luck. Stretching as far as he could, he reached behind him, blindly patting around in an attempt to free the fabric. His fingers found the nail, but the angle was awkward, and he couldn’t get enough leverage to pull it out.
As he strained, his jeans began to slide lower. He clenched his teeth. "Oh, come on," he muttered.
His efforts only made it worse. The waistband of his jeans slipped further, dragging down inch by inch. A sliver of fabric peeked out above them—bright, white, and adorned with a playful pattern of colorful automobiles.
Alex had put it on that morning without a second thought. It was one of his more eccentric pairs, a guilty pleasure he wore when he needed a little secret thrill. The snug, narrow band hugged his hips, while the thin strip of fabric disappeared between his ample behind, accentuating its roundness. The whimsical cars printed across the pristine white fabric felt both ridiculous and oddly exhilarating when he had slipped it on. He never expected anyone to see it.
But now, as his jeans sagged dangerously low, that secret was exposed. The elastic waistband of the thong stood out starkly against his skin, the little blue and red cars marching in a playful parade across the top.
He blushed furiously, glancing toward the door as if expecting Mike to burst in at any moment. His heart pounded. He tugged at the jeans again, but the nail held them fast. Swallowing his growing panic, he turned back to the task at hand. If he could just finish the repair quickly, he could free himself afterward.
Alex worked as fast as he could, his hands moving frantically as he tightened bolts and swapped out washers. Every shift of his body made the thong ride higher, the narrow strip digging into him with maddening precision. The taut fabric pressed against his skin, a constant reminder of its presence. He could feel the cool air against his ass, the thong fully exposed now above his jeans. His ample behind strained against the denim, the curve accentuated by the way his pants sagged and clung.
He kept glancing over his shoulder, paranoia mounting with each passing second. His fingers fumbled, dropping a wrench that clattered loudly to the floor. "Focus," he whispered to himself, biting his lip. "Just finish. Almost there."
He had nearly completed the repair when he heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening.
"Hey, Alex, I’m back from…” Mike’s voice trailed off.
Alex’s blood ran cold. He didn’t dare move.
"Oh… oh my God," Mike breathed, a note of astonishment and amusement mixing in his tone.
Mike stood frozen for a moment before a grin spread across his face. His eyes were wide as he took in the sight before him—Alex bent under the sink, his jeans caught on the nail, the top of his thong fully visible. The little cars on the white fabric seemed to mock the situation, cheerful and bright against the backdrop of Alex’s predicament.
"Dude," Mike said, laughter bubbling up. "Is that a thong? With cars on it?"
Alex squeezed his eyes shut, wishing the floor would swallow him whole. "Go away, Mike," he muttered through gritted teeth.
Mike’s grin widened as he stepped closer, his eyes locked on the exposed waistband of Alex’s thong. "So, this is what you’ve been hiding all these years, huh?" He reached down, his fingers lightly brushing against the thin elastic.
Alex flinched, his entire body tensing. "Mike! Don’t you—"
Snap!
The thong snapped against Alex’s hole, eliciting a sharp yelp.
"Mike, I swear!" Alex twisted around awkwardly, but with his knees under the sink and his hands still gripping the wrench, he couldn’t maneuver away.
Mike chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Relax, man. This thing is practically begging for attention. I mean, cars? Really?" He let his fingers trace the waistband again, tugging it playfully.
Alex squirmed, his cheeks flaming. "Stop it! You’re acting like a five-year-old!"
Mike leaned down, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, come on. How often do I get to see you squirm? And this thong… it’s doing wonders for your butt, by the way." He gave a light tug on the narrow strip of fabric that disappeared between Alex’s cheeks.
"Mike!"
"What? It’s too good to pass up," Mike laughed, tugging the thong higher, letting the cars dance above the curve of Alex’s ass. "A thong. On you. And it fits so… snugly."
Alex moaned, a sound of both frustration and something dangerously close to pleasure. "Mike, please—"
Mike raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Please, what?" He gave the thong one last tug before letting it snap again, the fabric taut against Alex’s ample backside.
“Just pull my thong to the side.”
Mike’s eyes widened at Alex’s unexpected command. “You’re such a good boy. You will be getting a very generous tip…”
Mike pulls down his pants. Alex moans as Mike pulls the thong to the side and enters him.
Conclusion
Mike finished and collapsed on the floor.
“This is better than lunch,” Alex said as cum dripped from his hairy hole.
Mike laughed, “ I always preferred dessert.”
As Alex shifted to stand, the force on the jeans caught around the nail gave way with a sudden, loud rip. Alex gasped as the fabric tore fully from his waist, leaving his jeans in tatters and pooling around his ankles. He was now entirely exposed from the waist down save for the playful, perfectly snug thong that cupped his backside. Mike’s eyes widened even more.
"Oh man," Mike whispered, biting his lip to stifle his laughter. "This just keeps getting better. "
Alex warned, pointing a finger at him. "If you breathe a word of this—"
"Relax," Mike said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Your secret’s safe with me. But seriously, next time? Maybe skip the cars. Too distracting."
Alex laughed, rubbing his face with both hands. "I hate you."
"Nah," Mike replied, chuckling as he grabbed his wallet from the counter. “I don’t think you hate me anymore. I think we’re friends again.”
Alex blushed, “You know what good friends do; they give their friends pants in their moment of need.”
Mike looked Alex up and down and grinned mischievously, “Maybe…”
