I 'm Mike, a high school junior and star varsity basketball player. My coach contacted some NBA scouts who came out to watch me play, and they told me I was definitely on their list for consideration. My coach continued to encourage me but cautioned me about one thing.

I was a very aggressive player – that's why I did so well, but I've had a lot of fouls called on me, and I knew that looked bad. I found it difficult to back down – I needed to push hard without going too far, and I struggled with that.

One day I found that my world was falling apart when my father told me we were moving to the other side of the state because he was being transferred at work. He assured me that I'd have no problem getting on the team at my new high school. My coach told me he would notify the NBA scouts of my new school so they would still be able to find me, so I felt reassured.

On my first day I sought out the basketball coach and met with him after school. He said he remembered me when my team played his at the state finals last year, but he said he didn't have a place on the team for a guy like me.

"What exactly do you mean by 'a guy like me' ?" I asked.

"Mike, you're a dirty player and fouled my players multiple times," he explained, "One of my players ended up going to the Emergency Room, thanks to you."

"I know I've been way to aggressive," I protested, "And I've been working hard to find the right balance – if you'll just give me a chance, I'd value your guidance."

The coach wasn't buying it, but I decided to keep trying. I didn't get where I was by quitting, and I wasn't about to. I confided in one of my knew friends, who told me that the kid I'd sent to the Emergency Room was the coach's own son. Then I knew it was going to be a whole lot more difficult.

When we played basketball in gym class I tried my best to play well without fouling anyone, but I wasn't sure the coach even noticed. I continued to try to persuade the coach to give me chance on the team. One day I realized that I might have to darn near beg him.

"Please coach," I said, "I don't know how to make amends, but I'm willing to do almost anything to get on the team."

"Anything?" responded the coach, "You sent Ben [his son] to the hospital – are you willing to show him how sorry you are?"

I quickly agreed – what the hell, I really didn't want to hurt the guy, and if saying I was sorry would get me on the team, I'd do it in a heartbeat! The coach told me to meet him and Ben in his office after school tomorrow, and I agreed. At last I had hope and it felt great!

The next day I went to the coach's office and found him and Ben there. I wanted to get this over with, so I began, "I'm really sorry I fouled you, Ben, and sure didn't mean to injure you."

"That's a good start," said the coach, "But I think Ben may need more convincing – I'll leave you two to work this out."

The coach left his office and closed the door behind him, leaving us alone together. "What's it gonna take?" I asked.

Ben smiled mischievously and unzipped his pants, taking out his cock. "All you gotta do is show me how since you are in your apology."

"No fuckin' way!" i said, "I'm no faggot and I'm sure not gonna suck your cock!"

"Too bad you're so closed minded," said Ben, "That can really limit opportunity."

Ben really had me in a bad spot. I wasn't sure I could really trust him, and even if I could I sure didn't want to blow him.

"Mike," Ben said, "It's time to swallow your pride and do what you need to succeed – I never figured you to be the quitting kind."

I sure wasn't a quitter, so I replied, "Is that all I have to do – nothing more? But this has to stay between us."

"That's all, and I'll keep it secret," Ben said, "But you better get started before my dad returns.

I dropped to my knees and opened my mouth. Soon I felt the humiliation of Ben's cock in my mouth. It wasn't physically all that bad – in fact it wasn't bad at all – just humiliating. Ben said he'd be cumming soon and expected me to swallow every bit of his load.

That was yet another humiliation, but I knew I had to go along with it. As he shot his hot load into my mouth I nearly gagged at the strong taste, but swallowed as directed, hoping to be rid of the taste.

"Look up here," Ben said. I did and he snapped a picture with his cell phone.

"Don't worry," continued Ben, "As long as you continue to suck me, nobody else will ever see this."

"That wasn't part of the deal!" I protested.

"You wanna be on the team or not?" he demanded.

"Okay dammit," I said "But nobody else better find out."

There was a knock on the door and Ben said, "That's my dad – better get up."

I quickly stood up as Ben opened the door to admit his father. "Are you satisfied of Mike's sincerity?" he asked.

Ben agreed and the coach welcomed me to the team, and said he expected me to play a great, but clean game. I agreed.

As I turned to leave the coach told me I should brush off my knees. I looked down and saw that a coating of dust that betrayed what I'd just done. I quickly brushed them off as I left.

Over the next couple weeks I was welcomed onto the team and Ben treated me well, but reminded me of my ongoing obligation. I blew him three or four times a week and realized that it was a small price to pay to get back on the team. I looked forward to the NBA scouts visiting, and hoped for a career with them as an NBA pro.

My game improved and I learned how to be aggressive without fouling. I also learned that I really liked sucking Ben, and when he asked if I'd be interested in sucking others I quickly agreed.

By the time I graduated I had seven regulars I sucked, and gave one or two blowjobs every day, and knew I wanted to suck for the rest of my life. I knew I had to keep this very secret – there was no tolerance for faggots in the NBA, but I'd have to find a way to be discrete.

I started out as an unwilling cocksucker, but sure loved it now!

Special thanks to my online friend James Smith for inspiring this story

  To be continued . . .

Feel free to contact me with your comments or requests.
    –Bill Beaumonte (oral_guy_2000@yahoo.com)