Circle Of Friends - The Swim Team

“They’d have to kill me first! I’d never do it. No way!” Mike said, using his hand to adjust the position of his cock so he could pull the waistband of his tight swimming trunks up. Physically he was the least mature of our circle of friends, but he also was the oldest, and having just turned sixteen he had his driver’s license and access to a car so his opinion still mattered. He was also smart, a real math whiz, and he desperately needed a letter in some sport if was to have any hope of an appointment to the Naval Academy at Annapolis. He got his appointment in 1967, but told them to stuff it when the peace bug bit him. He got drafted and came back all screwed up in the head and he’s still that way. Shit happens.

This was in 1965, and the Internet, AIDS, and Herpes were still unknown and nothing could be contracted that couldn’t be cured with a shot of penicillin. . We were dressing down for our swim team practice and were discussing a porno magazine we had found that showed a guy sucking another guy’s huge cock.

“You got that right,” Gordon agreed. “I’d bite it off of him if he tried that with me.” Gordon was by far the hairiest of the group. He had been shaving since the sixth grade, and even though he wasn’t very tall he was solidly built, and had black hair on his ass, legs, chest and even some on his back. Competitive swimmers shave their bodies for matches, but he wasn’t even close to being that good even though he still tried hard.

“I’ll bet he likes it,” piped Vern. “He’s probably a queer anyway.” Vern was only an average swimmer but he had the biggest balls of any kid in the school. His trunks bulged out with their mass, and the coach made him wear a suit that was large and baggy in competition to keep the prudish old ladies from bitching and the girls from getting wet just by looking at him. The junior and senior varsity swimmers had more height and muscle mass but he had them all beat below the belt. Despite the size of his balls he had a high, reedy voice that made him a favorite of the choir teacher as well.

“Never say never,” I repeated the old axiom. “If a guy has your balls in one hand and a knife in the other and says ‘suck’, then you suck. I know, because I’ve been there.”

“You don’t mean to tell us that you sucked a guy’s cock?” Vern questioned. “You’re not a queer, are you?”

“I’ll tell you the rest of the story after practice,” I said, as the coach blew his whistle. Even though I’m only a sophomore I swim varsity, so I didn’t talk to the other three guys until we were back in the locker room, and then they seemed evasive and didn’t have much to say to me. I had known them all for two years, and they knew me well enough to know that I wasn’t a queer, but they still needed to hear the rest of the story before they would be comfortable around me again.

Mike, having a car, drove us home. It was a two-mile trip that usually took about an hour, given the typical teenage diversions, which was enough time for me to exorcise a demon that had been on my conscious for three years.

“I went to grade school over in Otis Valley,” I started in. “and it was a tiny little school with only about a hundred kids in it. Seventh and Eighth graders did PE together and it was the last class of the day. The year I was in the seventh grade most of the guys went out for the baseball team, but three of us didn’t. The coach would usually start serious baseball practice a few minutes early, so we were dismissed to shower up and wait for the bus.

“My nuts had just dropped and I was starting to get some hair, and you know how horny you are at that age. I was beating off all of the time, thinking I was the only person on Earth who did it, and we were all walking around waiting for a chance to pop someone else in the nuts.” I paused, and realized that I had their undivided attention. Every kid has those thoughts, but few will admit it until they get a lot older.

“The other two guys were the Dalton twins. They were both in the eighth grade, but had flunked at least one year so they were fourteen or fifteen years old. They were a lot bigger than me, and a whole bunch hairier, nothing like Gordon of course, but a lot more so than me. They were always talking dirty in the showers, using the ‘F’ word a lot and talking about blowjobs, which I knew nothing about.

“One day they got to talking about helping their uncle castrate calves, and how they put a rubber band on a dog’s balls, and how the dog licked his balls and dick trying to get it off. This was giving them both boners, and finally one of them asked me if I had ever tried to suck my own cock. I blushed a little and denied it even though I had tried to once or twice. He said that he would suck a guy’s cock if someone had him by his balls and told him to. I didn’t say anything, but he turned around, spread his legs and bent over in front of his brother, who grabbed him by the balls and told him to suck me. I kind of wanted to run, by I had a hard on myself by then so I let him.

“Wow!” Mike said, in admiration. “What was it like?”

“It was over real fast, maybe ten seconds at the most. What bugged me was that I liked it. I was starting to notice girls by that time, and I thought that liking it made me queer or something. I just got dressed and left as quickly as I could.

“The next day I stayed out on the field, pretending to look for something I had lost until the last minute, and when I went into the shower room they had both left. I almost missed the bus that day. The next week one of them bent over in front of me and told me to grab his balls. I wouldn’t do it until his brother started slapping me around. As soon as I did he dropped to his knees and sucked his brother off. I should have gone to the Principal right then, but I didn’t want to admit that I had been involved. The other brother finally got around to sucking me off too, and I squeezed his balls while he sucked his brother. It was almost the end of the school year, and sometimes there were other guys in the locker room too, and when there were the Daltons were okay, but when it was just the three of us they would pull some crap.

One day they suggested that it was my turn, but I didn’t want anything to do with it, so one of them held me down and grabbed my nuts and told me to suck. Just about then we heard the door at the top of the stairs open and some voices. It was a bunch of sixth graders getting ready to dress down and join the baseball players on the field. They let me go and turned towards the wall to hide their boners as they dressed, and I got dressed real fast and split.

“ School let out for the summer, and I figured I had it made. They would both be in High School next year and out of my hair. I got a job on a dairy they summer and rode my bike over there every day. One evening I was coming home and took a shortcut through the woods, and didn’t even see them until they had thrown me off of the bike. They were sharing a bottle of something, and were kind of drunk. They said that I still owed them a blowjob and that they were going to collect it right there. They pulled my pants off and grabbed my balls real hard and opened up a knife. They said they would cut my nuts off if I tried to bite, and they even stuck my bag with the point of the knife to prove it. I still have a little scar down there.”

“So you actually did it?” Mike asked.

“It wasn’t like I had much choice,” I replied.

“What did it taste like?” Gordon wanted to know.

“Just as bad as you can imagine,” I answered, truthfully. “They had both been working, and hadn’t had a bath in I don’t know how long. Both of their cocks had this indescribably sour taste, and their jizz was salty and tasted like Clorox smells. They made me swallow it, and when they were done one of them kicked me in the balls so hard I that I puked it up and had to taste it again. It hurt so bad I couldn’t even hardly breathe and I just laid there for about a half an hour.

“ When I finally got home Dad knew right away that I was hurt, and I lied and told him I crashed the bike and racked my nuts on the handlebar stem. It was kind of bent up anyway, so he believed it but he still made me strip so he could check me out. That was really embarrassing, having my Dad look at and feel my nuts. He put an ice pack on them and I went to bed. By the next morning they had swelled up to where they were even bigger than Vern’s, if you can believe that, and he took me to the doctor. He didn’t notice the little cut where they had poked me with the knife, and he just told me to take it easy for a couple of days and I would be fine. The swelling went down and I quit hurting after a while, but every time I swallowed I could still taste their jizz in my mouth. I must have gone through a gallon of mouthwash and wore out two toothbrushes, but I never did quit tasting it. I couldn’t even get close to another person because I thought they would smell it on my breath and think I was a queer.”

“I would have got a gun and shot those guys!” Vern said, with real conviction. He probably would have done it even back then. He pulled a gun on a guy during a robbery right after he graduated and spent ten years in the state pen. He moved away after that, but I figure he’s back in prison somewhere or another; he’s just that kind of guy.

“I would have liked to,” I replied. “But I did something else instead.”

“What did you do?” Mike asked, enthralled by the story.

“I watched, and I waited. The Dalton twins lived with their uncle on the farm next to the dairy I worked on, and every evening their uncle went in to watch TV and drink whiskey. The boys always went to this little place in the woods, the same one where they jumped me, so I followed them there one evening. The would sit around and sip on a bottle they had stolen from their uncle, and every now and then they would suck each other off and once they even screwed each other in the ass. I almost got sick thinking about having had their cocks in my mouth after I saw that.”

Gordon made kind of a gurgling sound and rolled the window down to get some fresh air. Despite his hairy, macho appearance his stomach was always a little twitchy and it didn’t take much to set him off. We were bisecting frogs in Biology class the year before when some one commented about how good deep fried frog legs tasted. He clamped his hand over his mouth and headed for the door. He made it out of the classroom but hurled all over the hallway. He was a city boy, born and bred, and it surprised just about everyone when he went to Washington State and became a veterinarian. He is bald as a cue ball now and is a very well respected member of the community.

“I waited until the end of the summer. Mom was still alive then so there were some really strong painkillers in the house. I took a half a dozen of them with me one morning and went to the woods and dumped them in the bottle of booze they had there. That evening after work I waited until they headed for the woods and their uncle was drunk and then went over to their barn and got their Elastrator and a couple of bands.

“What’s an Elastrator?” Mike was another city boy.

“It’s how they castrate calves,” I answered. “You know, how they turn them from bulls to steers. There’re these little rubber rings, about the size of Cheerios, and they fit over this tool that stretches them open. You put the rubber ring around the calf’s ball sack and they fall off after a couple of weeks.”

“You mean they did that to a dog?” Gordon asked, indignantly. “I would have killed them just for doing that!”

“Anyway, they each drank a little bit from the bottle and passed out cold. I pulled their pants down and put one of the bands on each of them. I think I would have put them on their cocks too, if I had had two more. I dumped the rest of their whiskey out and wiped my fingerprints off of the bottle and the Elastrator and went on home. By the time I left their nuts were as black as charcoal and they still weren’t awake.

“I didn’t sleep much that night, and the next morning I kept looking over towards their uncle’s farm. He was looking all over for the boys, but he didn’t think to look in the woods. They finally stumbled out of the woods about ten in the morning hollering and crying, and he loaded them up and took them to town.”

“What happened then?” Vern asked. “Did you ever get caught?”

“Nobody said much about it. The boys were living with their uncle because they had got caught messing around with little kids, so everyone seemed to know they were screwed up and they just figured that they did it to each other. They went back to Boston or somewhere to live with their mother and I never saw them again. My Mom’s nurse said that there was some terrible accident, and that two boys had to be neutered, as she put it.”

“Do you ever feel sorry that you did it?” Gordon asked.

“Not much. In fact, right after the taste in my mouth went away and hasn’t been back since then.”

“You should have just killed them instead.” Vern declared, solemnly. For all I know he was right. Maybe they would rather be dead.