Well, it was to be the first meeting of our exclusive club, the Skintight Faded 501s Poets Society!  There were just four of us in this fraternity, but we knew that eventually, there could be more--many more.  There was Tom, who was the least tall of us four, with dark hair, a winning smile and a way of filling out his skintight 501s that made the three of us really happy he was willing to be in our society.  Dave had reddish hair, freckles, smooth, even features, and was the guy least able to keep from getting hard in his skintight faded 501s when he got excited or aroused.  Dave was also easy and maybe the most fun to get hard, and when he exploded in his skintight levis, it was quite obvious.  Paul was no doubt the best looking of the guys in our society, at least so I thought.  He was not only good looking, but he had the nicest bubble butt of any of us; his very old and worn skintight faded 501s had been resewn several times because he took wearing them skintight very seriously to the point where they would sometimes rip out, especially when his huge hard on grew to its very large proportions inside the very tight confines of his levis.  I was the final charter member, and being one who my skintight levis buddies said had the most writing talent, chose me to record our adventures, or at the very least, the minutes of our meetings.  I love skintight faded 501s so much that I even sleep in them often, which my buddies knew, and sometimes kidded me about--I claimed it was because they were jealous.  My roommate didn't seem to care what I slept in, but their non-skintight-501s-loving roommates apparently might freak out at the thought of one's roommate sleeping nightly in his tightest, most faded pair of 501s.

We met at the appointed place and time in the lobby of my dorm, and immediately admired each other's choice of casual wear for the evening, and how each of us had worn such skintight faded 501s, all button flys of course, for the initial meeting.  Each of us had jackets to cope with the fall weather, and I had worn my black leather motorcycle jacket, which got me lots of compliments from my buddies.  "Is that real leather," my buddies asked as they felt the tough cowhide in the jacket.  "Hell yes!" was my arrogant reply.  Tom moved closer and took a wiff of the leather.  "Yeah, guys, that's real leather alright," he reassured my buddies.  Dave also had a leather jacket, but it was much more conventional than my biker jacket.  "Damn," he said, "I got a biker jacket too that is major sexy, but I left it back in my dorm room!"  "You can wear it next time," I reassured him, hoping he would.  Next to my skintight faded 501s, my favorite next piece of clothing is my leather biker jacket.  It just broadcasts sexiness and toughness that feels so good to go with my skintight 501s.  To me, a guy who is in a tight black leather biker jacket and skintight faded 501s is just about the sexiest thing I can possibly imagine. To my levis buddies, I wanted to be that person in their life.

HEADING TO THE CLUB

With flashlights in hand and bulging cocks in our tight jeans, we headed out into the darkness to find a place to meet.  Paul noticed that I had a bar of soap with me.  "Gonna take a shower?" he laughed.  "No, you'll see all in due time, my skintight levis buddy," I replied.  Walking with these guys at night was both exciting and arousing.  Watching their tight asses in the dim light of my flashlight had a way of showing off their tortured levis in a way not seen in the bright light of day.  We started heading out toward the edge of campus, out where the terrain was less flat and there'd be more opportunity to find a suitable meeting place.  There was this hilly part off campus where lots of construction debris had been left for future expansion I guess.  Anyway, one of the pieces was this huge steel drainpipe, about 30 feet long, and at least 5 feet across.  There was nothing inside but some expended beer cans, and some spray painting that had been done by previous students on the insides of the pipe.  It had been there for what looked like several years, and the steel, once shiny and new, was now rusting and rough.  We agreed that at least for the time being, this pipe would be the society home, for it had the things we were looking for--it was in a secluded area, away from traffic and people, it offered some protection from the cool night sky, and we knew our skintight faded 501s would get dirty from being in there, which also excited us as well.

"Well, guys, now that we're here, now what?" I asked.  "How 'bout we make some club, er, society rules," Tom offered.  Good idea we all thought, so as we planted out skintight faded 501 butts onto the inside of the pipe, we came up with some rules by which we all agreed to live as long as members of the Skintight Faded 501s Poets Society.

The first rule was the most obvious--we had to attend all official functions, like meetings, in our tightest most faded 501s.  If for some reason we could not wear our 501s, other skintight levis would suffice.  Other brands might be able to be worn if the other guys in the club all agreed and approved, but that would not be terribly likely, given how crazy we were about our skintight 501s!

Secondly, and just as important as the first, was that the levis had to be skintight.  This was my rule, and why I brought the bar of soap--I had planned to make this a defining rule of the society all along.  We all agreed that what some guys call skintight we call ridiculously loose, so we mutually agreed to a standard (that I came up with) by which the skintightness could be measured so it would not be subjective.  That would be the "Ivory Bar" test.  If a bath sized bar of Ivory soap still in its wrapper could be completely stuffed into one of the patch pockets of the levis of any member, by any other member, the jeans would be considered way too loose, and would be unacceptable for club events.

The third rule is that we would ALWAYS cum in our skintight 501s, and while school was in session, never cum alone in our tortured levis, but rather cum with at least one society buddy, and preferably all of them, so we would always be at maximum horniness around each other, and help each other blow his load with maximum effect.

Finally, it was agreed that at official society meetings and events, that we would never actually touch another guy's cock flesh to flesh (buried in his skintight 501s would be ok), and would not engage in oral or anal sex, or pull out or show his actual cock.  We realized these rules were quite different from what a lot of guys liked about levis sex, but we thought these rules would maximize the pleasure we could get from one another, and make the skintight faded 501s the focus of our sexual interaction.

That part of the meeting having been completed, we decided that since we had two pairs of guys, that we could wrestle inside that pipe, get our skintight levis filthy from all the rust and dirt inside that pipe, and blow our loads before returning to the dorm.

Dave, who really liked my black leather biker jacket, chose me to cum with.  Each pair of guys wrestled each other down onto the floor of the pipe, grinding the skintight faded 501s into the rust and dirt; finally Dave pinned me hard against the pipe floor, and then came down on top of me, his leather jacket rubbing against mine, and his huge hard cock bulging inside his skintight levis rubbing hard against mine.  It was fairly dark in there, and that enhanced all my other senses, like touch, smell, and sound, as we felt and heard our skintight levis and leather-jacketed bodies rubbing against each other.  The feel of his leather jacket and skintight levis against me, rubbing, caressing, and stroking was finally too much for me.  He was kissing me on the neck, and was loving the strong odor of my tanned cowhide leather motorcycle jacket, and I his.  I came hard and pumped a huge creamy load in my tortured now-dirty skintight levis, and felt Dave blow his load about the same time too.  Dave lay on top of me and held me tight against himself, as we waited for Tom and Paul to blow their loads just a few feet from us.

Finally when we had all pumped our hot loads in our skintight faded 501s, we left the pipe and stood up outside in the very cool evening air.  With my flashlight, I could see the skintight levis on my buddies and myself, and man, they were very dirty, with rust and dirt and cum all over them.  We rubbed some of the rust and dirt off each other, and rubbing each of my buddies' skintight dirty levis was getting me horny and hard again.  Feeling their cum oozing through their tortured levis was getting me really horny again.  But then we decided to head back to the dorm, for that experience, while very sexy, exciting and greatly enjoyable, had nonetheless been tiring.  We agreed to try to come up with some poetry for our next meeting, so we cold live up to the name of our society.  Walking back to our dorm, my flashlight lit up my buddies' skintight and now very dirty levis, coated with rust, dirt, and cum.  I had a huge hard on all the way back, and noticed they did too.  When I got back to my dorm room, I wanted to cum again in my tortured 501s again, but didn't want to violate the third rule, so decided to save my hot manjuice for my skintight levis buddies whom I was beginning to really care about.

I feel asleep that night in my skintight 501s and leather biker jacket, with thoughts of future adventures with my newfound skintight levis buddies dancing in my head.  I laughed out loud when I realized what a hell of a Saturday this had been!
 
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