Ryan always got a kick out of this scarcely conceiled voyeurism, but this session gave him an extra buzz, as the lovely Sandra was front and centre among the gawkees. He'd met Sandra briefly some three days before, as he was coming out of the coffee shop and she was coming in. Time was tight, but he only needed seconds to set his sights on the pair of them cumming together and he invited her to the rehearsal.

And so she showed up and, such was the fate of so many women before her, all too quickly allowed herself to become entranced by the 16 inch uncircumcised monster cock straining impossibly against the tight nylon fabric of his ballet tights. It was a better outcome than the stunning thirtysomething, secretary cum pantyhose model could have hoped for in making the decision to come along. She liked the male penis, if you could make such an understatement, but had never personally experienced one larger than around 8 inches.

Sandra was wearing tan pantyhose sans panties and, in her growing excitement, had become acutely aware of her succulent snatch, which was leaving an ever expanding circle of moisture on the crotch of her nylons. She was insanely jealous of Ryan's female dance colleagues at this moment and wondered to herself how they were able to keep thier hands from caressing the huge pole-like lump in his tights and how they could bear to keep their mouths from sucking it??!!

These were the moments the 35 year old stud lived for and it was no accident that he had chosen the dance for his career, given that no other job could allow him the opportunity to so shamelessly show off the polish sausage dangling thickly between his legs.

Jumping forward almost an hour, however, it was more accurate to report that his johnson was dangling thickly in Sandra's warm, trembling hands. They had left the rehearsal together and he had decided against changing out of the tights, given the thoroughly cockstruck state of his date. It was risky, given the good odds of some groin sniper deciding to have some fun by castrating himself a betighted pretty boy. Still, it wasn't as if attempts hadn't been made on his dick numerous times before, he had thought - remembering to silently laud himself once more for taking those martial arts lessons as a teenager. He could protect his precious schlong should the need arise.

Ryan was still in an otherwise deserted alleyway, introducing the delightful Sandra to his his most prized possession, when the need chose to arise. The couple's salacious public activity had caught the attention of Gino, a local mob thug with a pathological liking for violence. He'd been easing his way home from a poker game when he'd stumbled upon the hot bitch handling the betighted nancy boy's prick.

Gino was never the most even tempered of individuals, but on this night he was even more aggressive than usual, on account of losing so badly at the table. Who the fuck did this wadboy think he was, prancing around his neighbour hood at night in ballet tights, motherfucking ballet tights for christ's sake! Intent on sorting the interloper good, Gino plucked the firearm from out of his inner jacket pocket and entered lover's lane.

On so many occasions over the coming years, Ryan would find time to dwell on how close he came to getting his cock lovingly sucked that night. He would remember Sandra easing onto her knees, her georgous face just centimetres from his rousing dong. With lust settling over her like an equisite mist, she had cooed - "I can't believe you can walk with this thing, let alone dance!" And it was then, just as he was about to enjoy the soft, velvety texture of her hungry mouth, that the third voice intruded incongruously into the moment - "You motherfucking ponce, I'm going to fix you in a way that'll make you wish you had never been so stupid as to get broken in the first place!"

For a moment it had seemed as if Sandra was still going to go for the gobble, but instead she tenderly kissed the mammoth member before hastily, but with surprising surety, stuffing it back into its white nylon home. When Ryan turned to face his intruder, Gino had stopped some ten metres away, which was just far enough to cloak his features in the dim. Ryan had strategically positioned the couple under the glow of a small wall light (so Sandra could see him in all his glory), however, and this enabled Gino to get a clear view of the most colossal cock he'd ever seen.

Gino was still in the process of computing these improbable dimensions in his head, when Ryan made a charge at him. In spite of his inebriation, he still had enough reaction time to raise his gun though, pulling the trigger at the exact moment that Ryan initiated a flying kick. Gino was an expert marksman who, drunk or otherwise, was never going to miss such a pronounced target at point blank range. The bullet, intended for blowing apart skulls from further distances, ploughed mercilessly through Ryan's neatly wrapped package, disintegrating his dick into millions of scarcely discernable particles. The machinations of this millisecond well and truly overshadowing the secondary impact of Ryan's right foot connecting with the left side of Gino's face.

The foot had hit with some force, but Gino scarcely registered the blow as he returned to his feet in a giddy state of euphoria. His vanguished foe was sitting on the pavement, staring in disbelief at the bloody space where his three pound cock had once been, and sobbing mournfully. Somewhat incredibly, his A-Grade set of balls, similar in both size and shape to a pair of 700 gram hens eggs, had escaped the onslaught unscathed. Whether the crestfallen capon would come to look upon this outcome as a blessing or a curse, remained to be seen.

Gino had perpetrated many beatings and caused many deaths during his 55+ years, but this would prove his most satisfying act of violence. He had crushed his opponent... Made him a eunuch! During the years ahead he would conjure mental images of the handsome ballet star whose dick - surely one of the most amazing in the world - he had had the pleasure of destroying. Even well into his eighties, such remembrances would lead to successfully executed instances of masturbation.

Normally Gino would kill beaten foes in such situations, but this was an occasion where the punishment already metered out seemed more fit than death, and the ageing mobster relished the prospect of this haughty, handsome playboy struggling to adjust to a diminished life without sex. So instead of wasting more bullets, Gino settled for some cutting parting words along the lines of - "Let this be a lesson to you not to go prancing around my streets in ballet tights, not that I expect you'll be in much of a hurry to wear ballet tights again in future." And with that, Gino exited the alley way to the frantic audio soundtrack of Sandra screaming into her mobile phone for help and Ryan sobbing uncontrollably to his mangled and bloodied groin.

Help eventually arrived, for as much as such help could offer. Ryan was whisked away to hospital, where medicos did what they could to stabilise the hollow gap between the dancer's legs. With the right mix of drugs they were able to end Ryan's pain, although his real agony was only just beginning. Beautiful women would no longer attend ballet rehearsals to ogle his package and he would most certainly NEVER fuck again!

At the same time that Ryan was drifting into a merciful drug-induced sleep, Sandra was back at her apartment, undressing for bed. As she did so, she noticed a small object (roughly the size of a healthy cashew nut)sticking to her pantyhose just above her left knee. It was, in fact, a small portion of the head of Ryan's once proud penis and the largest piece of beef shrapnel to survive the gun blast. Sandra recalled the sound of the intact manhood flopping pendulously into her hands and, not for the first time this night, her pantyhose moistened with the tingling release of fluid from her twat.

Thank God for vibrators, she thought...