Best buddies (Tyson meets Cal and Brandon)

Special thanks to Tyson for the idea for this story! If you (yes, I mean you, the one who loves swimmers!) would like to meet the Ballbusting Boys and see yourself in a story please read this post for more details.

Artwork created by Champ

Featured in this story: Brandon and Cal (click for pictures)

“Fuck yeah, why not!” Cal laughed, clapping his hands.

“You don’t stand a chance”, Brandon chuckled. “Neither of you!”

“Wait and see!” Tyson chimed in, “Wait and see!”

The three studs were on their way to the water. Tysen was visiting his buddy Cal for a few weeks, and they had spent the entire day at the beach with Cal’s best friend Brandon and their swim team friends, horsing around and swimming and having an awesome time.

Cal was 22 years old, a tall and handsome young man with a swimmer’s build, muscular and athletic with broad shoulders and a narrow waist that created the characteristic wide swimmer “V”.

Tyson was 21, black like Cal, a swimmer like Cal, and just as hot. There was not an ounce of fat on his body and he had muscles in all the right places. And the biggest muscle, it seemed, rested inside his speedos. That bulge was obscene, almost as big as Cal’s, and neither of them seemed to be shy about it.


In fact, their prominent packages had been the butt of a joke a few times, like when people had tried to initiate a game of nut ball – the team sport variant of the increasingly popular campus sport – with Cal’s and Tyson’s generous equipment as the targets. Cal and Tysen had been game, but a lifeguard had intervened, ostensibly because it was a family beach, probably because he couldn’t stand the sight of the handsome studs’ perfect packages.

“Not a fucking chance!” Brandon laughed.

He was Cal’s best friend, 21 years old, Asian-American with black hair and brown eyes, not quite as tall as Cal but just as handsome. Brandon had won several trophies for the swim team, and his body was perfectly sculptured. The content of his speedos didn’t quite match Cal’s and Tyson’s almost ridiculously oversized bulges but it came close, and Brandon had no reason to be shy, sporting a very impressive set of plumbing that defied the nasty stereotypes that were out there.

In fact, Brandon had a very simple reply to everybody who made a “small dick” joke about Asians: He challenged them to a quick cock comparison with a nut kick punishment for the loser. He had won every single time. Over time he had learned that the people spreading stupid stuff like that usually weren’t exactly well-endowed themselves, and he had enjoyed kicking those small-dicked idiots in the nuts very much.

“Wait and see!” Tyson repeated, shadowboxing as they ran down the beach dock, heading for the inflatable party island that was floating nearby.

It was almost sunset, and the idiot lifeguard was nowhere in sight.

Now was the perfect time for a final round of Last Man Standing.

They had been playing it a few times today, with everybody on the inflatable island pushing and shoving each other into the water until just one was left.
This afternoon, it had been a splashy and hilarious affair, and the island had been cleared within just a few minutes.

Now, with only three players on the island, things would probably take a little longer.

They climbed onto the raft, their muscular bodies dripping, their wet speedos clinging to their enormous packages.

Brandon was the last one to get up on the raft, and Cal and Tyson were waiting for him.

"Oh, look", Tyson chuckled, pointing at Brandon's crotch. "Lefty is trying to escape!"

Cal laughed at Tyson's joke as Brandon looked down, spotting his his left testicle that had slipped through the leg opening of his speedos and was now wedged against his leg.

Before he had a chance to rearrange the contents of his speedos and bring the egg back into the nest, Tyson's bare foot slammed into his groin, flattening Brandon's trapped left nut and the rest of his plumbing, eliciting a strangled yelp from Brandon.

Ironically, when Tyson withdrew his foot, Brandon's right nut had joined its twin at the fresh air, having slipped out of his speedos as well.

Cal and Tyson roared with laughter as Brandon moaned in pain.

"Sorry, bro, this is just too easy", Tyson chuckled, bringing his foot up one more time, kicking Brandon square in the groin.

"Ouch, that was right in the dick", Cal laughed, high-fiving Tyson as Brandon stumbled backwards before tumbling off the raft into the ocean.

"That was quick", Tyson grinned as he turned his attention to Cal.

Brandon was gasping for breath, huffing and puffing as he fought the sharp pain in his testicles while trying to keep his head above the water.

Humiliated and left out of Cal's and Tyson's playful fight, Brandon paddled back to the beach dock, watching from afar as Cal and Tyson roughhoused, laughing, cackling, having a great time, until Cal finally managed to shove Tyson off the raft.

On their way back to the public locker rooms, Brandon was silent as Tyson and Cal joked and playfully tried to sacktap each other, completely oblivious to the fact that Brandon was sulking.

Cal decided to skip the showers and head to the vendor down the road right away to get some seats for the three of them.

"Great idea", Tyson said with a smile as he took off his speedo, revealing his fat, limp dick and his huge, low-hanging nuts.

Brandon stripped naked and headed into the showers without a word.

"What's his problem?" Tyson asked, chuckling.

Cal shrugged his shoulders. "No idea. See you later."

Cal left the locker rooms, and Tyson followed Brandon into the showers.

Brandon was facing the wall, soaping up his athletic body.

Tyson chuckled and stepped into the shower. “Everything alright, buddy?”

Brandon didn’t reply.

“You’re not angry at me for kicking you off the raft, are you?” Tyson chuckled as he generously applied soap to his mammoth schlong and his fat low-hangers.

Brandon didn’t reply.

“Talk to me, buddy”, Tyson grinned, taking a step towards Brandon.

Brandon turned around, his eyes filled with rage. “Listen”, he hissed. “If you think you can ‘buddy’ me out of a friend you are dead wrong, buddy!” His final word was dripping with venom, hurled as a weapon against a guy that Brandon clearly viewed as a competitor, not as a friend.

Tyson raised his hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down, man, calm down!”

“Fuck you”, Brandon took a step closer. “Fuck you!” He poked his index finger into Tyson’s bare chest. “You have been trying to drive a wedge between Cal and me.”

Tyson let out an incredulous laugh. “What? I--- You--- What?!?”

Brandon’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, knock it off! You think you are clever but you are just stupid.”

Tyson raised his eyebrows. “I have no idea what you are---”

“Shut up”, Brandon interrupted him. “I can see through you, genius.”

Tyson shook his head. “Okay, you are--- This is crazy.” He turned to go. “I have no idea what you are talking about, and I think we should end this conver---”

“Hey!” Brandon said sharply, grabbing Tyson’s shoulder. “It was you who started this conversation, remember?”

Tyson shook his head and raised his hands, wordlessly trying to get out of the showers.

“Hey!” Brandon yelled, rushing past Tyson and blocking his way by positioning himself in front of the exit. “Don’t walk out on me, you fucking asshole!”

Tyson looked at him.

The two men were facing each other, bare naked, their perfectly sculptured bodies wet with soapy water.

Brandon was blocking the exit, his arms folded, his feet spread wide apart, a fierce, determined expression on his face.

“Let me out”, Tyson said calmly.

“Asshole”, Brandon replied.

“Your choice”, Tyson said with a shrug. Then he dropped to his knee and sent his fist flying into Brandon’s crotch. It was a picture-perfect uppercut that landed right on target.

His knuckled connected with Brandon’s wet ballsack, ramming his nuts into his body with a resounding SPLAT that echoed through the showers.

“Ooooouououghgh!” Brandon wailed, doubling over in pain and clutching his bare balls with both hands.

Tyson chuckled. “Who’s the asshole now, huh?”

With an enraged wail, Brandon lunged at Tyson who managed to avoid some painful head-to-nut-contact by stepping aside.

Brandon stumbled and slipped on the wet floor, landing on the ground, screaming in pain.

Tyson let out a laugh, shaking his head as he turned to go.

Brandon wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet, though.

He managed to grab one of Tyson’s ankles, causing him to loose his footing and go down in a very painful split that was particularly humiliating because his oversized manhood suffered tremendously when it was crushed by his own weight, flattened against the wet tiles.

Tyson screamed from the top of his lungs.

Brandon got up, cupping his nuts. With a mean grin, he raised his foot and stomped down on Tyson’s dick, squashing the fat sausage under his sole and eliciting an anguished grunt from the well-endowed stud.

Brandon’s wet genitals were dangling right in front of Tyson’s nose, and he seized his chance, cocking his head back before sending it right into Brandon’s spunk satchel. It was a headbutt for the ages: His forehead connected with Brandon’s precious goods, flattening them and ramming them into his body.

Brandon’s jaw dropped and he let out a wheezing groan.

Acting quickly, Tyson balled his fist, sending a nut-crunching uppercut up between Brandon’s thighs.

Brandon howled in pain as Tyson brought his fist up again and again, crunching poor Brandon’s nuts while Brandon was standing on his dick, flattening it under his sole.

Finally, the pain was too much for Brandon, and he stumbled backwards, his face a mask of pain.

Tyson let out an angry grunt and got up, clutching his nuts as he limped out of the showers and back into the locker room.

Dripping wet, Tyson grabbed his clothes and slipped into his shorts, preparing to leave. “Fucking lunatic!” he grumbled, grimacing as he tried to accommodate his genitalia inside his shorts without hurting them any more. “You’re a fucking lunactic!”

Brandon rushed into the room, mad with rage, his nuts swollen and sore. His eyes fell on a wet towel on the floor. He grabbed it, twisted it, and snapped it at Tyson, hitting him square in the ass.

“Owwww!” Tyson yelled in pain, grabbing his butt.

That left his front hazardously unprotected – and Brandon took full advantage of that. He swung the towel in a perfect arc, and the vicious, nasty end of it slashed into the huge package in Tyson’s bulge like a knife into butter. The bulge was rocked, bouncing almost comically as Tyson’s eyes bulged and his cheeks puffed.

“Eeek!” Tyson let out a tiny, funny sound that stood in stark contrast to the stud’s big, muscular frame.

With the elegance of a professional dancer, the determination of a contract killer and the precision of a scientist, Brandon towelsnapped Tyson’s bulge once again, catching the largest of the three fat bulges, Tyson’s fat right nut, dead-on.

Tyson yodeled in pain, his eyes watering as he sank to his knees, clutching his crotch.

Brandon threw the towel to the ground, taking a step towards Tyson. “Listen, you son of a---”

Tyson brought his fist up, catching Brandon square in his bare balls and making him scream from the top of his lungs.

Brandon stumbled backwards, cupping his balls and muttering obscenities, as Tyson got up, groaning in pain.

With an angry roar, Tyson lunged at Brandon, grabbing his shoulders and bringing his knee up between Brandon’s thighs.

Tyson’s knee connected with Brandon’s balls, ramming them into his body and making Brandon squeal in agony.

Brandon managed to break free, taking a step back and bringing his foot up between Tyson’s thighs, kicking him square in the nuts.

They went back and forth, hitting and kicking and kneeing each other in the nuts.

Whenever Brandon got the upper hand, Tyson managed to land a critical blow to Brandon’s danglers. Whenever Tyson was close to defeating Brandon, Brandon found a way to hurt Tyson’s gigantic manhood, evaporating his advantage – and possibly his chances of ever fathering children…

They fought for what seemed like an eternity, trading kicks and knees, hard punches and nasty smacks, slamming each other against the lockers and pinning each other to the floor.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Cal entered the locker rooms. “Where the fuck have you---” He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw his friends.

Brandon, bare naked, was pinning Tyson against the locker, his arm pressed against his throat, kneeing Tyson in the nuts again and again and again. Tyson, wearing nothing but shorts, was grunting and groaning, his face contorted in pain.

“Guys!” Cal yelled.

They didn’t hear him.

Brandon’s knee crushed Tyson’s nuts again and again and again and again.

“Guys!” Cal yelled, louder, to no avail. He shook his head in disbelief. What had gotten into his friends?! He raised his hand and whistled with his fingers.

The sharp, loud sound made Brandon turn his head.

Tyson seized his chance and threw a devastating uppercut at Brandon’s groin, driving his knuckles into Brandon’s swollen balls and eliciting an anguished wail.

“Guys!” Cal yelled once again, stepping forward to knock some sense into his buddies.

He pulled Brandon away, brought his foot back and kicked Tyson’s nuts as hard as he could. His shoe connected with Tyson’s battered balls, silencing him. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his eyes filled with pain. He gasped for breath as he reached for his nuts, moaning and groaning in agony.

Now that Tyson was dealt with, Cal turned to Brandon.

Brandon pointed at Tyson. “He---”

Cal snap-kicked him in the naked nuts.

Brandon’s eyes crossed and his mouth formed a tiny little O. Then he sank to his knees.

“Now stop being idiots”, Cal said, throwing his friends their respective clothes. “Stop being idiots or I’ll crush your fucking nuts!”