I remembered when I recruited Diamond.

I just got the head coaching gig at Eastern Florida University, taking over a Division I college football program with one winning season in the previous 11 years. The fan base and boosters were on my neck the moment I was hired. They looked at me, a farm boy from southern Texas, as a savior to a program that once boasted championships, and churned out NFL Hall of Famers. I was a former All-American offensive lineman with a track record for being an “offensive guru,” inheriting a program that barely had 60 kids on the roster. Every program I led prior to coming to St. Augustine, produced top players, resulting from big wins and national notoriety. I helped win heavily in my 13 years of leading offenses. I paid my dues, and Eastern Florida gave me a call, with the president nearly begging me to get them back to where they once were.

“My job depends on it,” he said as he called me while on vacation.

My family and I were living in California, and comfortable where I was coaching for I had a formidable salary along with perks. There was no reason for me to leave the Los Angeles area: my wife loved it, and my two sons were enrolled in the best schools. Living in Newport Beach on the Pacific Coast wasn’t so bad either, so why did I want to uproot, and go to the muggy part of southeastern United States?

“You want to challenge yourself and level up,” said my wife Cindy, when I asked her if she was willing to pack and go.

A week after that phone call, I let the president know I wanted to interview. I was flown by private jet from LAX to Florida, and given red carpet treatment, along with a tour of the campus. Eastern Florida has some of the best facilities for pro football candidates. The campus is beautiful, and the fan base, albeit rabid from losing at the time, were more than welcoming once they got word of me checking out the job vacancy. I had a good group of kids, with a lot of potential to compete with upper level programs, but lacking the proper guidance. A negotiation was on the table that I couldn’t refuse, and I shook hands with the president, letting him know to acknowledge me as his new coach, with my wife sitting beside me. I informed my head coach, and the staff in Los Angeles, and they were more than understanding, for I was deemed ready to lead a program. News leaked out to the media, and the frenzy began, mostly erroneous slander of my name being aligned with “always wanting to leave California.” My players in California were disappointed, but they understood. They wished me well, with a few of them ditching their final year of eligibility to go pro. Four of them were drafted in the first three rounds of the following NFL draft, while I was taking things to the drawing board in Florida. Brand new house, brand new school district, brand new overall setting of which Cindy and the kids loved dearly. I hired my staff immediately, and met with the players in St. Augustine, before recruiting more to fill potential voids.

I was on the road heavy, flying and driving with the staff all over the atlas trying to woo who we felt were top kids. We went after the “five stars,” but only the ones who deserved the ranking, as much as the hidden gems. I knew about Diamond, a 17-year-old junior who was six-foot-three, 180 lbs., running routes like a gazelle. The wide receiver from Norfolk, Virginia was a tri-sport star as he dominated in football, basketball, and track. He had a handful of suitors, but I found him during a recruiting visit at a combine in nearby Virginia Beach, as he immediately passed my eye test.

“Chris, were you recruiting the kid when you were at Alabama,” I asked my offensive coordinator.

He claimed he never heard of him while I watched the stud burn through passing drills. I looked over and saw his mother nearby, cheering on her son, watching him dominate the other local kids while scouts watched. The scouts didn’t know I was there, only the combine staff as they, too, gave me the red carpet treatment. I studied how they studied him, and noticed how they rarely batted an eye at his overall talent. Maybe they knew him already, or perhaps they weren’t impressed, but I knew I had to get Diamond down to Florida. A week later I reached out to the kid’s high school coach, and got an invite to check out the stud at his high school. Diamond was calm, polite, but with a quiet, killer instinct in his eye as we chatted. I begged him for him and his mother to come down to the campus for a visit. A month later he informed me of their intention to visit, and they’d touch down to be wooed by everything we claimed we had to offer. I was honest to the rising senior, as he was to me and the staff as we wanted transparency across the board.

“Coach, I want playing time right away,” he said.

I told him there was a guarantee if he worked hard.

“I want to major in sports journalism,” he said.

We had one of the best journalism programs in the country at the time. Hours before he and his mother boarded the plane back up north, he sent me a lengthy text on how he respected how open I was. He mentioned how the facilities were top of the line, and how he felt when interacting with students who were present. The long winded text had me thinking he was turning me down.

“Let’s win coach,” was the final words, and I screamed at the top of my lungs since I nabbed this kid.

He went on social media to announce, and it was another frenzy for this talented “under-the-radar” kid instantly boosted our program. Top recruits from across the country took notice. A chain reaction followed, and suddenly a buzz was created before he even moved into a dorm. Eastern Florida turned heads on the field during the upcoming season, winning 10 games, while Diamond proved why we wanted him with us. He dominated in his senior season in Virginia, leading his team to a state title, then moving his things to Florida to become an early enrollee. My recruiting class was highly regarded nationally, with Diamond being the heart of it in my opinion, from the moment he signed his letter of intent. The kid picked up 10 lbs. of muscle, then dominated in spring practice as he made my seasoned defensive backs look like shit. In June, he physically returned to Virginia to grab his diploma, then a month later he was back in St. Augustine, withstanding the heat to stake his claim to freshman fame. He totally took over during the summer practices in catching the ball and making blocks for teammates. He’d become an imposing figure, and a starter for the first game of which he impressed the world. Diamond was everything I said he’d be in his first two seasons. He was one of the best college wide receivers, and set his bright future as NFL scouts were drooling over this once overlooked beast. His junior season he became a mentor, as he handled business on the field in performance, as well as led other players. He led Eastern Florida’s charge back to the national title game, and on that night he dominated in front of millions of eyes as he caught the ball 11 times for 210 yards, and three touchdowns. After the game, he and I had our own talk, of which he stated he needed to make a decision about his future.

“Coach, I got my degree, and I want my mom to stop working,” he told me.

I didn’t let him finish his sentence as I knew he was cutting his final year of eligibility.

“Do it,” I told him. “You don’t play college football to live in an apartment. You do it to make money, and take care of yourself, and family.”

I was in a daze, for I watched this kid for three years, after he was barely recruited. Top coaches were retweeting him, kicking themselves in the ass for missing out on such a talent. They knew him as “Dagger Diamond:” I knew him as Diamond from Grandy Park, a housing project in the city of Norfolk, Virginia. I knew him as the kid who led Bible Study. I knew him as the kid who urged his teammates to volunteer at the local shelters, and for the kids. The now six-foot-five, 230 lb. monster of a kid, was about to witness his life change once more, and I couldn’t be more proud as if I was his father. He moved off campus once he declared for the draft, for he finished his degree already, and focused entirely on preparing for the draft.

“Just know one thing,” I told him. “I want you to be fully prepared for whatever comes your way. I love you, Diamond.”

The following weeks included grueling training on and off the field. My staff and I had NFL experience, and we remembered the rigorous part of becoming a more attractive candidate for drafting, which advanced further in the previous 20 years. Diamond wasn’t the only kid we had going into the draft, but we knew he’d be the most scrutinized out of them all. He passed the eye test, handled business during our hosted Pro Day, of which he dominated every drill in front of over 20 scouts. The combine in Indianapolis came, and he further solidified his stock in every way possible. Two days before the draft, he asked me to join him and his family up in Norfolk, to celebrate when his name would be called.

“The other guys will be here, too,” he said of the other 10 players I had waiting to get their names called.

I booked a flight, and left Cindy and the kids in Florida in order to celebrate these guys’ special moment. I was greeted at Norfolk International with a private chauffeur. The guy handled my bag, and led me to the curb where I hopped into a luxury Mercedes. I was seated in the rear, where chilled champagne and snacks awaited me as I was in awe of the “humble” kid I knew.

“For you coach, since you believed in me,” read a text from Diamond, in response to me telling him I made it.

We made the drive across town to an AirBnB on the beach, with all of my future NFL players, and some family members all greeting me on the lawn of the property. It was an emotional moment with Diamond at the center of it all, waiting to hug me. I literally had tears streaming down my eyes as they all thanked me for getting them to this point. One of the players FaceTimed the coaches back in Florida, as well as some of the other players, as this seemed more about me, than the kids. The next few hours was all about family and celebration, and I for a minute, pondered flying Cindy and the kids down. The kids had school, and Cindy suggested I enjoy the time with the players, so I’d do just that. Later that evening, the players and I met on the beach, surrounding a bonfire as we sat in front of the surf of the Chesapeake Bay. We each had a couple of beers, and reminisced on the good, and bad times, we had during my short duration as their head coach. Most of the players were “written off,” before I came, much like Diamond who wasn’t on the top of my many colleges’ radars. One by one each player had their inspirational story of me, and how I helped changed their lives. Diamond’s was the most emotional, with him literally breaking out in tears as he recalled the time I dropped his athletic offer. It was long past midnight when I suggested we call it a night. Most of the players left to hit a hotel, while a handful remained, with Diamond and I choosing to still sit outside to talk.

“I gotta tell you something,” he said.

I was tinkering with an empty beer bottle while looking up at the stars.

“I’m not so sure I can do this,” he said.

I looked over at him as he, too, was looking up at the sky.

“Coach, I’m not sure if I can do this,” he repeated.

“Do what,” I yelled.

I thought Diamond was out of his fucking mind to make this statement, at this moment. The kid was on tap make millions on top of millions, and he was as much deserving as anyone else.

“Diamond, you hired a fucking agent. Don’t tell me you don’t want to play ball no more,” I said.

“I want to play ball, but what if I ain’t good enough,” he asked as his voice was cracking.

I looked over at this nutcase, then got up to grab two more beers apiece. The house was quiet as I went into the kitchen. Most likely everyone but us were asleep, and I’d return to the porch to hand him two beers, cracking them open, then doing the same for myself. I went from coach mode into father mode, verbally giving him a slap on the ass to remind him of the position he was in. I reminded him of that day I saw him in Virginia Beach. I reminded him of when he came onto campus for the official visit, and when he embarrassed my senior cornerbacks. I reminded him of his dominating performance on the very first game of his college career.

“You have no fear. Your only weakness is that you want to be better than the last rep,” I told him, as I reiterated words he flushed prior.

He sat there, putting his head down, and sobbing lightly as nervousness seemed to take over. I sipped ounces of beer to amp up the conversation, and when I finished my first beer, I moved in closer, and grabbed his chin for him to make eye contact with me.

“You are a fucking warrior,” I said to him as I caught him by surprise.

My eyes dug into his soul based on his non-verbal response. We stared at each other, not saying one word as I tried to reinfuse some confidence into him.

“Ain’t no way I’m letting you back out,” I said to him.

We stared, then I closed my eyes, and leaned my face further to kiss him on the lips. For all of maybe 10 seconds, my lips pressed against his. He didn’t push me away, and all of a sudden I realized what happened, and retracted out of fear.

“The fuck did we just do,” he asked.

I liked the way his lips felt against mine. I didn’t look at Diamond as one of my players: I looked at him as a handsome guy I was interested in. Perhaps it was the beer talking, but I needed to feel that again to confirm if there was chemistry. I needed to get out of my chair, and get some sleep, but he then reached over to kiss me again. The second time he parted with his tongue, and I received it by giving him mine. His hand draped across my face in a surprising moment where I actually became engorged. I had one encounter with a guy, and it was during my pro years when a fellow offensive lineman and I were drunk. That was 20 plus years ago, and I swore again I’d never get intimate with another man.

“We did it again,” I said to Diamond.

I looked over, and he was undoing his shorts as he tried to push them to the floor. I found myself staring at his crotch, seeing him drop his boxers as he revealed a big, black cock. I watched a lot of porn where black guys were impaling white girls. Those guys were packing some serious meat, and Diamond, with his chiseled hips, created a de ja vu. My own cock got hard as I felt possessed during this very moment. He started stroking it, and I looked up to see him smiling as if he was inviting me to touch it.

“Take me over the hump, coach. Suck on it and make me feel good real quick,” he said as I was in total shock.

I claimed I’d never get intimate with another man again, but I didn’t say I stopped fantasizing. When Greg, a fellow offensive lineman, seduced me in that Houston hotel decades prior, he enticed me to get on my knees to “service the black king.” He walked me through it, telling me exactly how to apply my lips, and where to give the most suction. I closed my eyes while I listened, and he pressed his big paw down at the back of my head as I learned to enjoy pleasing him. I applied the right pressure, and received a big glob of sperm as a result that sandblasted the back of my throat. I recalled the sounds he made, and him thanking me afterwards as I was proud to help out another man. This felt like that moment all over again, except there was no privacy like the hotel room we were in.

“C’mon coach,” said Diamond.

“Follow me,” I said as I got up from the chair, and walked to the side of the house.

I was heading to the rear, going past the property, and towards the beach to the nearby fishing pier. I looked back to see Diamond walking behind me. His cock was throbbing through the shorts as I was leading him under the pier. I looked around, seeing nothing but the horizon, or no one, as the moon and stars shone over us. The crashing of the late night waves would hide any sounds, and I bent to my knees out of sight of anyone with him in tow. He dropped those shorts, and stepped forward to feed me that bulging cock that could’ve been all of nine or 10 inches. Diamond was fucking bitches with this massive thing. I could taste the pussy juices as he and his teammates probably ran through a few locals before I arrived. I remembered the feeling of a big, black cock on my lips, and though Diamond was much bigger than Greg I was overly motivated to suck him still. I’d hear Diamond moaning as he rotated his hips back and forth. I put my hands behind my back, and allowed my star receiver to cause throat soreness while I surrendered myself. I loved the feeling of his curved member making my lips twitch. My tongue naturally tried to wrap around his girth, and I was sure saliva was running down my chin. He put his hands on my ears while he kept grinding my face, and I’d feel his musky pubes brushing my nose with each stroke.

“There ya go coach,” he said as he picked up the pace.

This turn of events had my head in a total swirl. He seemed unsure of himself for the first time since I’d met him. I was on my knees for another man when I swore never to repeat such an act. I cheated on my lovely Cindy. Diamond was into another man sucking him off, which made me wonder if he did this often. Diamond’s sweet precum had me thinking we could’ve experienced this encounter long before. I had so many questions which required so many answers while enjoying my throat being expanded. He sped things up, and I’d feel his stiff balls hitting my chin while I simply kept still to receive him.

“Fuck coach,” he cried out as he was getting close.

I loved the flavor of his dick. He hadn’t washed it off from the last bitch he infiltrated. His precum was sweet as honey, and he had plenty for me to enjoy. My throat really was beginning to hurt until he coaxed it with his copious amount of semen. He screamed to the top of his lungs, but no one else could hear due to our location, and the pounding on the surf. My knees were wet, as was my throat, and he pulled away from me before he fell back to the sand. His shorts were feet away, and he was laying flat in the aftermath. I swallowed it all, not leaving a drop behind as I wiped my lips afterwards. I stood over him, and we made eye contact before we both laughed.

“I’ll never drink beer again,” he told me as we both erupted in more laughter, and I helped him off the sand.

We hugged, and he thanked me for giving him a chance to prove to the world who he was.

“A guy that likes his dick sucked,” I joked.

He jabbed me on the shoulder, then we walked towards his shorts once we looked around, checking for spectators. We walked slowly after he put on his shorts, and we headed back to the house. We talked about the times over the previous four years, and I, too, would thank him for all he did for me. We made it to the house, and stepped on the porch as I gave him another hug. He went inside, and I’d sit on a rocking chair on the porch as I thought long and hard about what happened. I swore I wouldn’t do that again, for I had too much to lose off of old fantasies. When the sun rose, media outlets were in front of the property. More family members came by, the other players arrived, and subsequently the entire day was all about Eastern Florida players getting drafted. The draft would come hours later, and as expected, Diamond would get drafted high as he was the third overall pick. All of the other players would also receive phone calls from professional teams, and have their names called, but the most jubilation came with Diamond. All I could think about was the time passed, which included me sucking off one of my former players, one of the most influential athletes I’d coached. I returned to St. Augustine the next day, and kissed my wife as if “nothing happened” in Norfolk. That night I ate her sweet pussy, then fucked her senseless while thinking about Diamond. I pictured Diamond letting me suck his cock while I pounded away deep in Cindy. I came within five minutes of penetrating the wife, a record with Cindy, for I was so wound up from what happened the night before the draft.