Anonan

1 hour ago, saggernewbie said:

" Plus dramatiques que l'interdiction, les dommages physiques occasionnés par le vêtement. Comme il faut écarter les jambes pour maintenir le pantalon qui tombe, le dos se creuse et les fesses se rentrent. Sans compter les problèmes de dos, de hanches, mais aussi d'érection, provoqués par une ceinture trop serrée, car beaucoup trop basse.

LOL, I've never heard the likes. Total bullsh*t.

Well, there are the fetishes that are borderline unhealthy, dangerous and insane (r*pe play, feces, choking etc.), and there are the one's that are just weird and curious. Objectophilia, for example, (sexual or romantic attraction towards inanimate objects) is a thing I don't get at all. I've heard of people being in love with and making love to lorries, organs (the musical instrument, not the insides lol) or toy cars. In general however, I can at least imagine why someone would be aroused by certain things, even if they may be gross or controversial in one way or another.

You can see he really wants his sag and underwear to be seen, holding his arms up high often, pulling jeans down (6:22), etc.

"Get a picture of my abs."

"I'm a chocolate swiss guy myself." xD

5 hours ago, sagger2014 said:

Does anyone happen to know the brand of his jacket?

Not sure, but I've seen him often wearing stuff from DC.

Basically sagging throughout:

Great find. Ive been browsing through some of his videos and it seems as though this guy is in his mid/late twenties and has retained much of the skater style that was common in his (and my) teenage years, wearing at least a half-ass sag as a default.

Japanese guy talking about sagging:

Same guy acting as Justin Bieber:

...and popping bubble wrap (sag visible from 1:48 on):

20 hours ago, saggernewbie said:

= Lowered loading edge ? funny and hot double-sense too, right ?

Yap. "Lowered loading dock / sill / edge" (of a car). Technical terms are always hard to translate, but that translation should be about right. And yes, as you said, it's amazingly ambiguous :D I mean, many women, gays (and of course, closeted straight guys) would like an easily accessible "loading dock", wouldn't they? ;)

Great sag and hot guy, anyway!

Oh, cool lol

Another pointless Youtube channel. But well, who cares as long as his sags are hot

Wow! I'm speechless! Please more of him

More please!

Sagging fits this guy really well.

Go to minutes: 0:56, 2:33, 3:11, 3:33 and especially 4:20

Watch this guy's videos:

Indeed, get a long tee (not to be confused with tall tee!). That's what I do. A long tee is slim tailored and long, so it covers up all of your bum and therefore underwear, which allows you to sag lower comfortably.

A long tee shifts the attention from the ass more towards your upper body i.e. torso and head, which means that your low hanging back pockets and crotch don't catch people's eyes so much. Depending on the situation, I even sag below c**k that way. Your bulge popping out between the bottom of your long shirt and your belt won't even be noticed if you draw the attention to your upper body by wearing a prominent long shirt and a snapback cap for example. (I've been testing that on several guys by now ) You can also use long, big hoodies, necklaces, backpacks etc.

Let me warn you about backpacks though: Because your shirt or hoodie will definitely get stuck, ride up and reveal your bum.

Keep your eyes on the guy in the white tank top, especially from 2:10 on:

How old were you when you first started to smoke? - 17 or 18.
How did you get your first cigarette? - First occasionally from friends, then started to buy packs myself.
How old are you now? - 23

Are you still a smoker? - Yes.

What brand do you smoke? - Marlboros or Chesterfields.

How many packs a day do you smoke? - More or less half a pack.

Boxers or boxer briefs? - Both.

Hey guys,

all those who have found real sagging friends on here can share their stories in this thread. What was it like to meet for the first time and how did/do you pass your time together? Is there a sexual aspect to it as well? How did it came to be that you've become real friends - beyond your both's interest for sagging maybe?

I've only managed to have on-and-off contact with saggers on the internet, but I'm trying to change that.

Cheers,

Anonan

On 24.7.2016 at 0:07 AM, saggingdan1049 said:

Is this the end?! 

I know it's been a long time, but no, it isn't the end, of course. I apologise for letting you guys wait for so long. You might want to re-read the previous part to freshen up memory and guarantee a "seamless transition". Thanks to all readers. Now, enjoy part eight.

Part Eight

“Call the doctor. Now!” A blurry voice hardly made its way to my ears, but when it met my ears, it hurt… “F*ck, f*ck man! I wish he’d…”

I tried to open these heavy eyelids, a quick glance at what I thought was the ceiling, everything seemed to be spinning around me and…

“Get me a towel right now! He’s throwing up!” the voice thundered again, its distress was challenging my ability to find a clear state of mind again. No, I definitely wasn’t feeling like opening my eyes once more, standing up and being the humorous guy like nothing happened. But,…  what’d happened for God’s sake? I felt like I was in the middle of an earthquake, my body swaying in all directions along with a Tokyo skyscraper I had to be in. No, not an earthquake in Japan. A ship. I was on board of one of those stinking trawlers that was heading right into the centre of a hurricane near the coast of Miami. Yes, that’s it. Fish, ship, hurricane, Florida. No, wait. A “fishing ship” near Miami? Shouldn’t it be happily robbing the sea of all the fish in Norway? If you want to get some fish, you take a flight to Scandinavia. Who wouldn’t know that? Yeah, of course, Norway or no way! Alright, I was on a ship near the cold Norwegian coast heading towards the centre of a hurricane. But hurricanes in Norway? Hurricane isn’t a word invented in Norway… it’s very definitely an American phenomenon! Ugh, what was I thinking. I didn’t smell fish at all, but rather the… former content of my stomach, and there wasn’t a natural disaster taking place, but only my very own catastrophe. I swallowed. A resigning moan escaped my throat which was burning. I found myself in pain now, pain in my throat, pain on my head. Again, I dared a quick glance and I wasn’t quite sure what to look out for. Maybe for my hands which would for their part find the origin of the pain on my head, which made me cringe somewhat. The next moan, a small portion of light hit my eyes. I was lucky this time as a clearer, more steady picture presented itself to me. The ship has sunk, resting on the bottom of the Atlantic ocean, but instead of silence, I perceived gibberish talking, only step by step becoming intelligible. First, these many voices around me sounded as if they were shielded out by headphones, then, after seconds or minutes – I had no idea – I could make out actual words, later fragments of sentences and finally, complete sentences while I was carefully opening my eyes further, accommodating them to the light, and while the ship was resting in peace on the bottom of sea, my personal hurricane was still raging and I found myself right in its centre. This situation didn’t fit me in any way. Being the centre of something, the centre of a circle of worried faces. Dancing with Nicole now in dimmed light in a corner of the kitchen would be more to my liking, much more. Recalling that memory, which seemed to lie far away in the past at the moment, I even smiled very subtly, because now it all came back to me. The flow of time wasn't anymore what it had used to be as everything happened too fast, too quickly, however still smoothly regarding the rather explosive development of my relation to Nicole. Likewise, physics didn't seem to be what it had used to be, considering the strange fact that my trousers couldn't be pulled up over my bum.

“Wait, wait! Put that phone away! I think he’s coming back!” I recognised Nicole’s voice as well as her remarkable breasts above my face and I began to stare into her glittering eyes. During the time she was gently tapping my cheeks as if she was trying to shake coins out of a piggy bank, I could catch a fleeing breeze of her perfume out of the disgusting, sour smell of my vomit that was still continuously burning in my throat. At this thought, I released a cough and with it what had been stuck in my throat and Nicole drew back her head slightly, then she came closer again and wiped the area around my mouth. “He's back,” she sighed in relief. She continued to pat my face dry and helped me carefully to sit me up. With my heavy head facing down, I stared down dazedly to my crotch and a sag that was still very low. Those dark blue Quicksilver jeans shorts surely were the only reliable thing right now, I smirked, they still were sitting exactly at the height where they were supposed to sit. Soon, when the other participants of the party became aware that so far, everything seemed to be alright again, they gradually turned away from the miserable sight that was me and began to talk, drink and dance again. You're not the centre of the hurricane anymore, I said to myself, releasing a moan and rubbing my forehead. I remained in that position for a few minutes as nobody dared to push me to do anything. Nicole was sitting in front of me, her right ellbow rested on her knee and her hand, which was holding a cigarette, was supporting her face while she glanced at me every now and then to make sure I was fine and for once, I felt that I had been given some time to become somewhat clearer again. The last thing I was able to remember was Mike's head accidently hitting a cupboard and later him being in the bathroom with me and...

A shiver went down my spine.

“Where's Mike?” I asked Niole, raising my head.

- “Got all wasted. He's asleep on the couch,” she answered, darting a confused glance at me.

“But he should be in the bathroom where I've left hi-,” I immediately interrupted myself while it was dawning on me that it was too late.

- “Cute, you've been dreaming.”

“Uh, I...”

- “You don't have any clue of what's happened, do you?”

“I'm not sure...”

- “Do you want to know?”

“That would help, I think,” I answered more insecurely than I had intended.

- “A guy bumped into you, which caused your forehead to hit the cupboard in the kitchen and, well, you passed out,” she explained rather technically and turned her head away, taking a drag of her cigarette, watching the others. Although she appeared to be dissatisfied with my first question being about Mike after I had regained consciousness, I had to ignore that and take advantage of the absence of her eyes and look down to my sag again. Then I lifted my shirt to reveal my underwear. It was true, I wasn't wearing Mike's colourfully patterned boxers which I had put on in what obviously had turned out to be just a dream, from which I had awoken all too soon, all too unpleasantly. Admittedly, that encounter in the bathroom would have been too much of an adventure to be true, even if I got so much of a thrill out of it despite the inconveniences that would have resulted from it as well as the pressure for failing to give explanations. Feelings of silent regret were emerging within me. It was only a dream, I mumbled once more.

The rest of that night didn't hold any pleasant or unpleasant surprises. The guy who caused me to hurt myself had been chased out of the house rightaway, the people around me were enjoying themselves and I, watching Nicole dance to Old Age by 13 & God, wearily lied next to Mike on the sofa, who had his whole bottom in his boxers on the show and who seemed as though he was at peace, not caring about the hangover awaiting him the following morning. The throbbing inside my head slowly was wearing off as I was becoming more and more tired and in the instant that my mind made itself ready to embrace sleep, I felt the soft vibration of the phone inside the pockets of my low shorts. Calmness had killed all wonder, so, feeling protected against everything that could be uncomfortable, I retrieved it from my pockets and opened the message that read:

“You're doing well.”

I'm doing well, I repeated quietly and fell asleep.

To be honest, I don't see any contradiction at all! According to my experiences, sagging fits with pretty much everything, really. However, I can understand your feelings as I was dealing with them a few years back until I've come to the conclusion that sagging is found in all sorts of settings, situations and groups of people. Whether it be a banker, waiter, a ballet dancer or a lower class guy who may work at a supermarket on saturdays. I've seen sagging in every kind of person, so please do not worry at all.

Yes, I've noticed him. Not only does he have a real twink body but a great, variable sag, too! He might be here? I would really like to meet up with him and put his little bum to the test

That guy looks cool. Nice double-sag, handsome beard and hair. Thumbs up for him.