Patterson's flashback begets another as the two post-coitally reminisce about their favorite coach, the phenomenally hot David Eleven. Eleven is featured, in all his mutton-chop and six-pack ab manliness, in a pair of skintight white boxers. He caresses his business until it threatens to push through the undies, at which point he drops his drawers and double fists his enormous dick until the goo smashes against his broad chest.

Enter Timothy Long, the next narrator. Long is an amazing creature, pale, leaner than lean, and hung like you can't imagine. He shares a tale of a summer past when he jacked off with this cutie named Jeff. The camera cuts between the two as they put on performances that would make John Ashcroft pitch a tent. Jeff gets horny and kneads his milky moon with one hand while working his worm with the other. And Long, well, Long is just the living end as he squeezes his pole of perfection to sticky orgasm -- what a dreamboat.