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My mother’s first husband passed away two years before I was born. One year later, she married my father. Mom had a son from her former marriage, my half-brother Gary, whom I always adored and looked up to. Gary was always my hero and protector when we were kids, and could not have loved him more even if he had been my full sibling.My dad’s name was Harold Dickenson and he was referred to as HD. The acronym was an apt one because he had a very large cock and those in the know, knew that it also stood for ‘horse-dick.’ My name was Peter, and early on I became known as PD. This again was an appropriate abbreviation, because taking after my dad I was known as ‘pony-dick.’ Apparently, after I was born and handed to my mother, she took one look at my knob and said, “This is definitely my husband’s boy.”Even as a junior at high school my knob was larger than all of the senior boys. It was not that they were underprivileged in the dick department, but compared to my monstrosity, most guys fell short. The worst difficulty for me, however, was not only the size of my cock but the way it always misbehaved. My pecker had a mind of its own and always arose to any occasion when I became excited in a competitive manner. I played baseball and was a very good swimmer at school. Thankfully, baseball did not offer too much of a problem, but speedos presented me with an unbelievable challenge.The isvecbahis fiercer I performed in the pool, the harder my knob would get. People who tell you that guys with huge dicks cannot get solid erections are talking nonsense. My cock got as stiff as an iron rod.Although I was proficient in all four swimming disciplines, backstroke was my least favourite. I was always very self-conscious as my overstuffed speedo bobbed above the water, displaying my competitive excitement to the world. Truthfully, with all the splashing I doubt if anyone noticed, but it nevertheless made me feel very self-conscious. I always made sure I had a towel next to the starting blocks so that I could hide my boner as I got out of the pool.The one thing I had never tried at school was wrestling. I was in my penultimate year at high school having recently turned sixteen and had always been fascinated by wrestling. Gary had wrestled when he was at school, and as we were growing up he naturally showed me the various techniques attributed to the sport.One day, as I was passing the hall where the wrestling practice always took place, I stopped to have a look at the activity. Apart from being a wrestling fan, I also have to admit that I found the guys a real turn-on. I had known for a few years that I was attracted to men, and had recently even had my first ‘real’ sexual encounter with Jeffery, our neighbour’s isveçbahis giriş son. Jeffery was a year older than me and a real pussy boy. He always made eyes at me. One afternoon, he invited me over to his place and I ended up fucking him. It wasn’t a memorable experience because Jeffery was too ‘girly’ for my taste. Much as he tried to entice me thereafter, I was just not interested.The wrestling coach was a man named Arnie, and I knew that he and my dad had been at school together. Arnie was a big man and your classic heavyweight wrestler. If one Googled the term ‘bearish,’ I am sure you would find a picture of him. Sadly, due to my baseball and swimming regimen, I would never be able to try out for the wrestling squad. Observing me, Arnie called me over.“You’re Harold’s boy?” he asked, rhetorically.“Sure am, coach,” I replied.“How’s your brother Gary doing?” he then inquired.“Fine, thank you, coach,” I replied.“So, do you also want to wrestle?” he questioned, with a good-humoured grin.I went on to explain that as much as I would like to, my schedule simply wouldn’t allow for it.“What a pity,” he answered. Then after a brief pause, he walked over to a shelf and retrieved a singlet. As he returned he flung it at me and said, “Put this on and get into the spirit of things. You can be my assistant during this practice,” he concluded, with a playful smile.After isveçbahis yeni giriş changing I returned and stood beside him. As usual, my dick began misbehaving with the spectacle of the virile guys before me. Coupled with that, the sexy wrestling gear I was wearing was also not helping me to conceal my semi erect-knob. Sensing my discomfort, coach Arnie gave me a pat on the backside and then winking at me, told me to relax.“You’re a guy, so that’s perfectly normal,” he assured me.I followed him about for the next half-hour before practice came to an end. As all the guys were getting ready to depart he told me to stay put. Then, when the last boy had left, coach Arnie walked over and locked the door. Next, he invited me to join him in his office at the back of the hall.When we entered his den the coach began to bristle with sexual excitement. There was a tangible horny tension that oozed from him, and it felt like he was transforming into a bitch in heat. Placing his huge hand on my crotch he jokingly stated that my cock could now totally misbehave itself. Naturally, my dick instantly responded and became totally unruly, to Arnie’s total delight. His sustained fondling was also accompanied by heavy breathing.“I was at school with your dad,” he hornily hissed.“Yes I know, coach,” I answered.“Your old man… had the biggest and most beautiful cock… I have ever seen,” he haltingly informed me, battling to generate spit in his dry mouth.After licking his lips he continued, “I’ve never stopped dreaming about your dad’s knob.”Still fondling my knob, he continued, “Jesus, boy, I always wanted to touch you father’s dick.
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