Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. I spent the summer after I had finished college working as a security guard in a department store. It was, and still is, pretty upmarket so there were some rich picking for the determined shoplifter. On particular day I was assigned to men's accuracies, a section which includes shoes and underwear. This was one of my favourite areas: it didn't attract too many thieves who tended to go for the more resellable items. Plus it gave me a chance to legitimately eye up guys buying underwear. Being an upscale store it stocked many designer labels, sometimes being the only place in town to carry a line. This seemed to attract a mixture of gay men and straight women, sometimes with their slightly embarrassed partner in tow, plus the more "metrosexual" straight guys, anxious to look well at all times. Lots of the guys, gay and straight, were cute, and I spend many an otherwise boring day wondering how a particular customer would look clad in only the underwear he was buying. At the time boxers seemed to be the most popular type of underwear for the general male population but the store stocked, and sold, a wide range of briefs and boxer-briefs. One afternoon a guy was perusing the Calvin Klein range. He took my interest because he looked completely out of place: he was about 18 and wearing the usual garb of hoodie, track-suit bottoms and trainers which were practically a uniform in the poorer parts of the city. He was also quite hot, in a rough kind of way, though I assumed him to be as straight as they come. Despite my liberal credentials, as a security guard you came to know that some cliches were true, and the guys and girls with the hoodies often stole from the store. He was carrying a carrier bag from a chain of sports shops where I guessed he had been buying another tracksuit. Just then I saw him brazenly drop the box of Calvin Klein's into the bag and swagger off. I challenged him and he retrieved a pair of Calvin Klein Body briefs from the bag. They were black with a read waistband and couldn't help thinking that he would probably look really well in them. I told him that I was calling the police and that I would escort him to the door of he shop where he would be handed over. I got a predictable litany of abuse, and then he said something strange "Can I go to the toilet before you give me to the police?" I assumed he was going to try to make a run for it but against my better judgement I agreed. The staff toilets were close by and I figured I cold keep an eye of him. I entered the code for the unmarked door, and then into the mens toilets. They consisted of two single toilets each with a full height door and each fitted with a washbasin, kinda like disabled toilets elsewhere. I led the way into the toilet, leaving the door open in case he was going to try to attack me. "Have a pee and hurry up" I said. Sheepishly he said "No, I need a dump". "Well you might want to wait because I can't let you out of my sight", I said. "You'll have to fu**king watch me take a shit then, coz I'm bursting", he replied. The teen hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his trackie bottoms and slid them down to below his knees. I was astonished to see him reveal a pair of snug white briefs underneath, the Emporio Armani waistband visible under his t-shirt. He pulled at the bottom of the leg openings and let the undies slide down this thighs at the same time placing his firm arse on the toilet seat, just enough to give me a eyeful of his furry pubic bush and good-sized cock. His white underpants gathered around his calves, the crotch nestling in his track-suit bottoms. I thought that all straight guys of his age wore baggy boxers under their trackies: this guy must have a bit of underwear obsession with these briefs and the CK pair he had been trying to steal. I wondered what other types and brands he had. Just as I entered a reverie thinking of this skinny teen standing in nothing but a pair of snug white briefs, the rooms echoed to a long low fart. He held his breath as he started to push out his teen load. "I haven't gone in 3 fu**in' days. I was bustin for a dump this morning but my fu**in' brother was in the bog forever. Must have been wankin' again." "What age is your brother?" I asked. "2 years older than me, so 20" he said. I imagined a slightly chunkier version of this guy, sitting on the shitter, trackies around his ankles and cock in hand. I wondered if he shared his brother's underwear preferences. "So do you ever get stuff for your bro when you are out lifting" I asked. "Yeah, but he likes boxers. Ted Baker, Ben Sherman, Dolce & Gabbana - I've lifted them all for him." His answer was more revealing than I expected - maybe he was happier to share in such a vulnerable position. "Do you ever share jocks with him?" "I did wear his Dolce boxers once when I had no clean jocks but I didn't like them - everthin' jiggled around - know what I mean?" He paused and strained his face as he concentrated on emptying his obviously bursting bowels. He played with the bottom of this hoodie, allowing me a better look at his lower torso. His flat stomach was hairless but he had a big bush of obviously untrimmed pubes. The dark brown hair stood out against his pale skin. His thighs were also hairless but nicely muscled. He took deep breath again, slid his trackies down to his ankles and parted his thighs further. His white pants slithered down to nestle in his track suit. The guy was straining and grunting quite audibly, struggling to push his shit out. I moved to straight in front of him to try to see if I could catch a glimpse of his shit as it emerged from his young hole. His cock dangled straight down into the bowl below - it was slim and long with a long tapered foreskin. He scrunched up his face and closed his eyes. I heard a crackling noise from between his legs and then saw a fat turd slowly emerge from his asshole. I imagined this fat cable engorging his enlarged pink anus. The log seemed to go one for every, dangling into the water and hitting the bottom of the pan before breaking off and falling into the toilet bowl with a resounding "ploof" sound. He emitted a low moan of pleasure and said "f**k that was big, me hole is ripped after that". He farted again and then grimaced as he pushed out 2 good-sized turds which splashed into the toilet. "F**k that's better." He relaxed on the shitter and started to piss. A fat stream of urine gushed from the meaty foreskin of his big teen dick and splashed noisily into the bog on top of his fresh load. When he finished pissing he shook his tool and retracted the foreskin a few times, like he was having a slow wank. The youth stood up and quickly shuffled around to face the toilet, still with his trackies and white briefs around his ankles. He pulled off a long piece of toilet paper, scrunched it and thrust it deeply into the cleft of his pale buttocks. He wiped his butthole vigorously and looked at the paper before dropped it into the bowl. "I'd have thought you'd get better bog roll in a posh place like this", he said, "that's like f**cking sandpapering me arse". Despite this Kevin repeated this procedure several times, each time bending over so I could see his arse crack. His hole looked dark and puckered - I wondered if it was covered in the same brown hairs as his pubes or it was hairless like the rest of his body. It was certainly going to be clean with all the paper he was using. "Me ma used to give out if I got skidmarks in me jocks so I always make sure me hole is clean", he offered. I decided to push the questioning further and said "You're lucky though with such a smooth body, there's no danger of dingleberries". I wondered if he knew the expression but he laughed "I know, that'd be fu**ing gross!" I had the answer I wanted! I wondered if anyone had ever pushed a dick into that teen hole: it certainly could accommodate! After 5 or 6 wipes, he was evidently happy that his teen hole was squeaky clean The youth pulled up his D&G briefs and adjusted his package deftly before hoisting up his track-suit bottoms. Feeling braver, I said "OK I'll make a deal. If you give me your Armani kecks then you can keep the Calvin's and I'll let you off". "You want the jocks I have on me?" he replied with a note of surprise so strong I though he might be faking it. "Yep" I said "otherwise I'm turning you over to the police." Without further prompting he kicked off his runners and slid down his trackies. He paused for a second and then yanked down the white briefs. He stood in nothing but his hoodie and white socks, realising that I had his bag with the Calvin Klein briefs. I found the box and carefully opened up and pulled out the black underpants. His dick hung down limply below the hoodie as I handed him his new acquisition. He slid them on, then pulled up his hoodie to see how the looked. They looked great on his slim body, hugging his well shaped ass and accentuating his crotch. Getting a bit self conscious at last, he put on his trackie bottoms and shoes. I handed him the sport hop bag and walked to the door of the staff loos. "Get out of her before I change my mind" I said. With a grin he turned and left, looking at the mens underwear display without stopping and heading for the exit. I quickly re-entered the toilet, locked the door and snatched the Emporio Armani briefs from the floor. They were warm and slightly damp. I held them by the waistband, imagining them wrapped around the youth's body only a few moments ago. Turning to sit on the toilet I then realised that my young friend had never flushed the toilet. His enormous teenage turd poked proudly out of the water surrounded by toilet paper. I pushed my black uniform trousers to my ankles and slid down my own underwear: white Hugo Boss boxer-briefs on this day. The toilet seat was still a little warm from its previous occupant. I pushed the teen's discarded briefs to my face and inhaled. They smelt of fabric conditioner. My cock stirred and I stroked it with my right hand while moving the briefs around my face with my left. I found a damper strip down the middle of the arse and a tiny yellowy stain near the stop. My own cock was throbbing as I pumped hard. Something tickled my nose and I pulled the briefs off my nose to find a stray dark brown pubic hair. I placed the briefs over my face again and found a patch with a musky smell deep in the crotch. With that I felt the pressure build inside me. I sat back on the toilet and pushed my stiff cock down between my legs. With a few more jerks I shot streams of cum into the toilet bowl beneath, where my semen landed on the waste left by my young friend. After I few moments I hitched up my underpants and trousers and peered into the bowl to see the creamy cum glistening in the toilet, one glob having landed on the boy's long turd. I met my thief about a year later in a gay club. He was with a girl - it looked like he had a gay mate and they had all gone out together to see what the queers got up. He was in jeans this time and I assumed he hadn't recognised me. Later that night I was walking up the stairs leading fro the dancefloor to the bar when he casually turned around and pulled down the top of his jeans to show off a red waistband with the Calvin Klein stitching, with black material underneath. He turned and winked, then hurried up the stairs and grabbed his girlfriend around the waist. I never saw him again so I missed the opportunity to do the same - and show him the waistband of his old Emporio Armani briefs beneath my jeans.