Ambroise - Part 2

After Coach Ambroise had been dispatched and de-balled, I had the rest of the weekend to finish my intended plan. Ambroise would not be discovered until several days when I would be long gone. This time, it would be my other hated figure from my high school past: Neal Baer, the swimming coach. I remembered well my gym days in high school. I was never much for physical education—being rather small for my age, I found football and basketball punishing and embarrassing. But it was different with Wednesday. Wednesday was swimming day. Not that I liked swimming all that much, but in those early days, the boy’s swim class was conducted naked—probably to avoid the problem of wet swim suits. At any event, I was just coming out to myself, and the prospect of being able to observe 50 young naked guys excited me no end. I especially enjoyed watching the guys on the diving board as their dicks and low-hanging balls flopped and bounced with each jump! The most enticing guy in that respect was Jim Oslund—“Ozzy”—who had the most beautiful set of knockers I’d ever seen! Nearly hairless, they were the size of lemons. An unusually developed cock for his age arched over them. Yeh, Ozzy was the subject of many wet dreams those years. Ozzy was also on the swim teem and you can bet I attended every swim meet just to see his package all tightly confined by the official nylon speedos he wore. Even straight guys found their eyes focused on those manly jewels. I don’t even want to think of the thoughts of his adoring girl friends!

Oh, back to coach Baer: At that time, Coach Baer was in his late 20’s, just out of college. And what a specimen HE was Not that we ever saw him nude—except once in the shower when I came in after hours to get a medical excuse. There he was, soaping those big balls of his and stroking his hardening cock unaware that I had caught a glimpse of him through the door. Usually he was attired in either a thin speedo, or else in maddeningly tight white shorts with an equally tight tee shirt—both of which only accented his masculine attributes! Maybe because I was gay, I almost immediately realized that Coach Baer had his eyes on his young charges, savoring every giggle and flop of their young genitals, mentally having sex with each one. More than once I caught him looking at MY package. But I was not favored with his more intimate attention as were several of his more admired students. I knew that at least 3 or 4 of the more heavily hung guys were his favored “protégés whom he “groomed” for swim competitions. I could but imagine what sort of “training” was involved with the young hunks. I don’t know what angered me most, his abuse of his young students or the fact that I wasn’t included! But I vowed that one day he would get HIS! Well, now that time was at hand.

As I said, I attended a swim meet as part of the home coming festivities and had a chance to talk briefly with the still handsome coach. He was still quite a figure! No flab on HIS belly; his pecs were still admirably shaped with the protruding nipples making a quite discernible imprint on his tee shirt. Almost immediately, my eyes naturally lowered to his crotch. Yeh, there was still that tell-tale significant bulge between his legs that moved as he shifted his legs slightly. And he SAW me checking him out, slyly giving himself a discrete grope which allowed his balls to roll to one side. The bastard wasn’t wearing any jock under his short shorts! As for me, well I had improved a lot since my high school days. Work in the gym had filled me out considerably. The coach was actually giving me a come on look. We chatted superficially for a couple of minutes and then he “casually” wondered whether I might like an after-hours swim. “Why that would be great,” I responded. “How about 11:30 that night when everything had quieted down.” And so it was that I found him waiting when he opened the pool door. I had deliberately kept him waiting fifteen minutes so he could get hot in anticipation. And he obviously WAS! He was dressed in a bright red thong speedo which left absolutely NO aspect of his bulging sex hidden: two man globes protruded from the pouch between his firm legs, with his hose-length dong snaked to the right. “I didn’t bring a suit,” I said. “No problem, I’ve got several in my office. They may be just a bit small for you,” he replied with an evil sort of grin. “Oh, I think I’ll manage,” shot back, retreating to his office. He resisted the temptation to watch me change. He was right: the suit was about a full size too small, making my manhood barely contained by the straining pouch. Well, THAT was fine, too! I made my entrance, thrusting my crotch forward as I entered the pool room. He reached out and felt my developed body—professionally, of course! “You’ve developed quite a body,” he said lingering over my arms and slowly down my upper body. “Ready?” he called, as he sprang to the diving board. I looked at him there, part admiration, part lust, and part hatred. He jumped and with each bounce his nuts jiggled in their pouch until he made a clean div into the pool. I a second I joined him and we swam about, circling each other like two sharks. He dived between my legs and I could feel his body delicately caress my balls as he swam through. I copied his action, going through his spread legs, making sure to make contact with HIS tightly packaged nuts. After several repetitions, he made the first move, sliding his fingers around my manhood as he swam through and giving me a friendly squeeze. I returned the favor, and then the next time through, I grabbed his basket with a nut-busting squeeze! He gurgled in the water and struggled. I forced a sharp finger nail through the thin nylon fabric and tore the pouch open with a single vicious rip. His massive set of twin balls and prick flopped through the torn opening. He struggled free and went for MY gonads, BIG TIME! No more Mr. Nice Guy. I felt the fragile protection of my speedos ripped from my crotch, allowing my OWN manhood to flop forth. We each shook the encumbering remnants of our suits from our bodies and went for each other. I had always suspected a sadistic side of Coach Baer beneath his smiling, seductive façade. Well, now it was out in the open! He was fully engaged in a sexual fight—out to give real pain to my genitals. I could see the gleam in his eyes as he dove under to attack my crotch. I felt his tight grip on my nuts producing serious pain. And so it went for several minutes: We both got some serious grabs. One time he caught one of my nuts and damn near ripped the fucker off! I never realized how much force a fragile testicle could withstand! But I gave as well as I got. Once when he desperately surfaced for air I threw a punch directly into his crotch catching both ballocks dead on. Then a quick grab of his mighty sac. His precious baby-makers were SO exciting in my grasp! Both of his big “boys”, tender and warm under my control. He desperately groped for MY manhood from behind. But his very eagerness and self confidence was his undoing! As he missed my flopping package, I reached up as he glided by and grabbed his testicles—those how-hanging giants he flaunted so provocatively. Well, now they were MINE! I pulled down HARD! All the while squeezing and twisting his tortured nuts. He couldn’t even scream under water; only a gurgling sound as I proceeded to nut him. I felt an almost exquisite satisfaction as I felt those massive testicles yield to my deadly grasp. As he increasingly weakly struggled, I slowly crushed his baby makers. First one, then the second ruptured. Then I twisted the whole bag and felt it rip open, spilling out his ruined BALLS. As I gave one final yank, I felt the cords, tubes, and muscles tear loose from his groin. As he was sinking to the bottom I grabbed his now softening, but still stiff PRICK and twisted the head off just behind the flaring glans. “Who’s the big, macho coach now?” I laughed.

It was after midnight as I slipped out of the pool complex into a silent, unobserving campus. I had carefully wiped all fingerprints from the office and taken my torn suit with me. I left the campus early that Sunday morning with the other alumni. It wasn’t until Monday morning that they found his naked, nutless body in the pool. They found his balls wedged in the drain; his cock head had gone down the tubes.