Look at the Balls on That Thing

"Well, there is more to it than just sucking, I assume?"

"Well yeah, of course. You basically face fuck the guy. You'll probably continue to hold the lower half of his dick and continue to slowly stroke him. Then with the top part -- the part you have in your mouth -- you just slowly bob your head up and down, use your tongue and your lips, of course, and just continue to suck gently," Nikki explained while holding an imaginary dick in her hand and sliding it up and down near her mouth. "And oh, be very cautious with your teeth -- the teeth can be a big issue if you're not careful," she added almost as an afterthought.

"What if he comes in your mouth?" I nervously asked.

"Well, that's the whole idea, silly. That's how you keep from getting pregnant," Nikki said with a smile.

"Huh, doesn't it taste bad?" I asked.

"No -- it's just like a warm, slightly salty pudding," she replied. But seeing the squeamish look on my face, she added, "Well, maybe it's an acquired taste, but it's really not much different than kissing. It's just the initial sensation of the guy shooting his spunk into your mouth the first time -- which might take a time or two to get used to."

"So then, do you actually swallow it?" I exclaimed.

"Well, sure -- if I like the guy," she said with a shrug and a smile. "Or just spit it out -- he won't care."

"Okay," I said, still a little nervous about the whole concept, but still interested. "So, how do you know when he's about to come?"

Nikki almost laughed out loud. "Oh, you'll know alright. His dick will swell, he will start panting like he's out of breath, and the thing I love -- you can cradle his balls with your free hand, and before he comes, they'll tighten up almost like they're about to be sucked up into his body."

Now she really had my attention. "You can cradle a boy's balls!" I said with probably a little too much enthusiasm.

"Well, of course," she said, sensing that she'd landed on my true area of interest. "You can cradle them, gently roll them around in your hand, but be careful -- very, very sensitive tissue here. You can kiss them, you can lick them, and you can even suck on them if you want."

Now I was really interested. "What do you mean you can suck on them," I asked with a devilish smile on my face.

Nikki smiled back, realizing that the school might have just found another slut. "It's called a hum job or a hummer. You suck the guy's balls into your mouth the best you can, and then you just gently hum a little tune. If he's a football player, you can hum the school fight song -- they really love that. But no matter whoever the guy is, the vibration of your mouth feels really good, and if you're lucky -- and good, you'll get him off in no time."

My mind was racing with ideas on what I could do with Brad's balls, but I had one more important question. "Okay, that sounds fine," I said. "But doesn't the guy usually want to come in your mouth?"

"Oh yeah, of course, he does," Nikki said. "But that's totally up to you. If you're okay with it, the guy is going to love you for it. But if you're not sure, or you just don't like it, it's still okay. He gets to shoot his load and in the final analysis -- that's all that really matters." She added, "And the best part is that you don't get pregnant!"

That afternoon at the stables, I told Brad I had a little surprise for him in the hayloft. He was, of course, bubbling with excitement, and taking care of Duke's chores never went faster. Once we were safely nestled in our little love nest of straw and horse blankets, Brad said with a twinkle in his eye, "Okay, what's the little surprise you have for me?"

"I can't tell you silly," I said teasingly. "I have to show you." And with that, I immediately brought my lips to his and passionately started kissing him.

He soon pulled my shirt from my waistband, and sliding his hand up my back, unsnapped my bra with surprising dexterity. All most immediately, he was running his hands up over and around both of my super sensitive teen titties. I did nothing to hinder him, and in fact, I'm sure my passionate kissing only encouraged him. But as his impatience to get me fully naked continued to build, his nimbleness with the buttons on the front of my shirt began to wane -- so I quickly moved to help him. Momentarily breaking our lip-lock, allowed him to use both hands to finish with the buttons on my shirt and also permitted me at the same time to unbutton his. In a flash, we were both topless in the hay, and there was no doubt where we were headed now.

From there, we went back to necking -- hey, we were still teenagers. But it wasn't long before we began to take the next step. First, he tried to get a hand in my pants, but they were too tight, and I was too anxious to wait while he fumbled around. So, I broke our kiss again, unsnapped my pants, and pushed them down off over my ankles. Stupidly I was wearing boots, so what I had envisioned as a silky smooth and sexy process turned into just another awkward teenage moment. But no harm done, as Brad was having just as much trouble getting his pants all the way off and probably either didn't notice or just fucking didn't care.

Other than socks, we were now both finally naked. I just stared at him -- it was everything I had ever dreamed of and more. And as we lay side-by-side studying each other's nude bodies for the first time, we gingerly began running our fingertips up and down and over and around each other as we eagerly explored the fully exposed bodies of the opposite sex for the first time. I actually didn't know if this was Brad's first time or not. But he acted like it was, and that was all I cared about. So, as our fingertips tenderly explored each other's youthful bodies, it was pretty obvious Brad couldn't keep his eyes off my titties, and I couldn't keep my eyes off -- well, you know what.

He had a glorious golden all-over tan, except for a very distinctive bathing suit tan line. It gave me the nicest feeling that maybe I was getting to see something the general public had never seen before. And maybe -- just maybe, I was the first girl ever to see it. That gave me a newfound source of pride and enough courage to take the next step.

His dick was hard -- really hard -- and slightly bent to the right. I didn't know if that was normal or not, but it didn't look all that weird, so I assumed it was okay. Maybe all dicks are bent one way or the other. I had plenty of time to research that later. But right now, I had to move quickly with 'Operation Rocks-Off' before circumstances progressed beyond my control.

I ran my fingertips softly up and down his vibrating pecker. It twitched and trembled, which I thought was so cute. I didn't know it would do that -- but then again, I knew almost nothing on the subject. Brad was gently running his fingers around my face, down my neck, and softly cupping each breast before supplely letting them slip between his fingers. He was mesmerized by how soft they were and how sensitive my nipples were.

His hands had not yet started a southerly journey, but as he had already fingered me several times before, I knew he would. It's not that I didn't want him to play with my coochie; I would have loved it. Maybe I would have loved it too much, and my whole plan would have fallen apart.

Just as Nikki suggested, I started stroking him. It momentarily took his breath away, so I knew then and there I was on the right track. I got up on one elbow and brought my head down to his crotch. I didn't want to appear obvious, but I'll admit I took a long deep sniff -- just to check things out. And to my relief, it didn't smell bad at all. I mean, it did have a distinct odor, but to be honest, it was sort of sexy.

I kissed it -- butterflies took flight in my stomach. I kissed it again and then licked it several times. It was clear he was letting me take control, so I knew I had to keep the ball rolling. His dick head was turning purple, and I wasn't sure if that was pent-up frustration or just normal excitement. But in either event, I knew there was soon to be a climactic eruption, and if Nikki was right -- my virginity would still be intact.

Again, relying on Nikki's advice, I reached down between his legs. Oh My God -- there they were. Just as I had always dreamed. I moved my hand to cup them as Brad rolled onto his back and spread his legs to give me more room. They were soft and fuzzy and warm, just as I had envisioned. But what I hadn't imagined was that they were so heavy -- heavy with what I assumed at the time to be mass quantities of pent-up sperm. I wanted to look so badly, but I was just now beginning to suck his cock into my mouth, and this was no time to break the mood. Brad reached around my butt and started fingering my pussy from behind. I closed my eyes, and as my tongue playfully darted over and around his purple crown, I continued slowly stroking him with one hand while gently caressing his ball sack with the other.

Oh, this was good -- oh, so good. I could feel both of Brad's testicles under the skin. They seemed soft yet firm -- so firm -- and oh so full of generational ensuring sperm. And the skin -- oh, the skin was also just what I expected. It was soft to the touch but wrinkled like some kind of exotic fruit. Oh, and the hair, though I still couldn't see it, I could tell it had long thin strands that were individually course to the touch, but taking the overall region as a whole, his ball bag was as soft and fuzzy as a fully ripe peach. And they say a girl's pussy is like a peach -- well, a boy's genitals are like two ripe peaches plus a banana to boot, I thought to myself.

Then it occurred to me -- hey, I love peaches, and with that, I ran my tongue down the length of his shaft, just to get another taste, and then down across his ball sack. His pubes tickled my tongue, and the texture of his sack was a little weird, but it was also exotic and oh so erotic. I tried sucking one of his balls into my mouth, but I think it kind of freaked him out. Maybe he thought I'd take a bite or something; I'm not sure. But he pulled back slightly, and I realized that he either wasn't ready for that, or maybe I wasn't doing it right.

It didn't really matter in either event as he was just seconds from shooting his load, and I figured I'd better return to the top of the banana. I ran my lips slowly back up the flagpole, gently sucking the entire way. And just as I reached the top -- so did his climax.

I pulled back to see if I could stop it, but it was too late. I'd already gotten the boy off. And as I slowly continued my stroke, I just watched in total amazement. His semen shot all the way up his chest in spits and spurts that lasted almost a minute. It was about the coolest thing I'd ever seen in my life. And the best part was that as I lay beside him watching him gasping for breath, I knew that he was done for the day, and I remained a virgin for at least another day or two.

I guess as a thank you, after a short break, he did go down on me, and that was also very exciting. He didn't completely get me off that first afternoon. Still, just the sensation of his tongue sliding in and out of me and gently flicking my virgin clit was so intense and so much more pleasurable than I ever expected; I was totally satisfied.

So that evening, as I sat with my family, all four of us holding hands as my Dad said grace, I smugly smiled in the knowledge that Brad and I had done just about everything we wanted to do, and we were going to get away with it. There was still no risk of pregnancy, and in my naive teenage brain, I had totally convinced myself that I had safely defended my righteousness in the eyes of the Lord (but probably not my parents), as well as my virginity.

Over the next couple of months, I convinced Brad that he was never going to fuck me without a condom, and as he'd already invested too much time and money into me not to get his just reward, he finally acquiesced. The added benefit to me in stringing him along was twofold. First, it gave me more time to learn how to safely get his nuts into my mouth and to perfect the art of the hummer. Brad didn't care much for the school fight song, but anything by 'Pink Floyd' got him off within minutes. And secondly, the benefit of the rubber was that I could still sort of consider myself a virgin, as there was no exchange of bodily fluids -- at least not in my pussy. And further, as the skin of his dick had still not actually touched the inside of my vaginal walls, I was technically still a virgin -- right?

To paraphrase Bill Clinton -- "I did not have sex with that boy."

Brad and I remained an item through the rest of my senior year. But by graduation, neither one of us could remain faithful to the other, so that was pretty much that. We parted friends, and we remain friends to this day -- just no longer friends with benefits.

As I went off to college, I just couldn't believe my newfound freedom. My parents were almost four hundred miles away, and oh My God, what a target-rich environment. There were boys and balls at every corner. Guys began referring to me as "Queen of the Balls," and the girls in my sorority simply called me "Squirrel" because I had such an appetite for nuts.

I loved to bring a boy back to my dorm room, have him strip to his underwear, and then stand there in front of me. Still fully clothed, I'd sink to my knees facing him and pull his shorts down with my teeth. I always loved to find a free-balling man in boxers -- as it means he allows his junk to swing free. But if he's a man that prefers to keep his 'boys' snug in whitey-tighties -- that works fine for me too.

I let my nails grow long, and I spend several hours shaping and rounding them every week. I absolutely love cradling that precious fuzzy bag of jewels in the palm of my hand while my fingernails lightly tickled the top of my Man-of-the-Hour's scrotum -- that area of his ball sack above his testicles and below where the bag attaches to his body -- as I gently suck his throbbing member.

If he were young and horny, sometimes that would be enough to cause an early eruption -- which was okay, but not my intended goal. My intention was to bring him just up to that magical point and then stop -- I really never minded being called a 'prick tease.' Then with his dick as hard as a baseball bat, I would stand and seductively strip in front of him down to my panties. I would then lie down on my bed and have him straddle my face while still on his knees so that his bag of balls hung just above my mouth. This way, I could suck his balls into my mouth in order to give him one of my famous hummers. As I generally sucked one ball at a time into my mouth, I referred to this as 'picking plums' and what lovely plump fruit I discovered during my four years of college. I would, of course, continue to stroke him, and if this pushed him over the edge, which would be okay too. But if I were careful and not let him blow his load too quickly, I'd eventually have him move down my body, so his nuts rested between my boobs. That way, I could give his balls a tantalizing titty massage while I finish sucking him off. By my sophomore year, I had fully developed a taste for man cream, and I much preferred his expression of gratitude in my mouth as opposed to in my hair.

Then as he is still gasping for breath, I'd order him to pull my panties off with his teeth and lick my pussy until I came. Assuming he's good enough to get me off (and most of them were), I'd then flip him over onto his back, mount him bareback and ride him like a stallion for a second round of fireworks. Then just as he was about to release, I would reach behind my butt and grab his balls for one last tickle. Just holding those precious jewels in my hands was usually enough to produce a second orgasm for me, which in turn, just about guaranteed his.

I referred to this initiation as 'breaking in a new stallion.' Then assuming there was a second date -- and there almost always was -- I'd let him have his way with me from there on out. This usually meant that after our customary oral appetizers, he would either fuck me missionary or doggy, and if I was a good girl -- both. The advantage of this was that not only could I relax and enjoy the ride, but that I also got to feel his balls slapping up against my ass-hole if we were doing it missionary. And just as good, if not even better, slapping my clit with his nut sack if he was doing me doggy style. And what girl wouldn't like that?

In case you're wondering, I've been on birth control since graduating high school, and I'm definitely no longer a virgin!

Just for the record -- I did have a three-way once with a sorority sister and her boyfriend. I wanted to fuck him, but she wouldn't let me unless she was present. So, I agreed to give him one of my famous hummers while she sucked him off. But once we all got naked, I think she got a little jealous and fucked him all by herself while I just sat and watched -- that was it. I guess she didn't like 'sharing' after all, and to be honest -- I don't really care much for it either.

It has now been six years since Brad and I first 'did it' in the hayloft, and I have had some amazing adventures, but I realize that I need to start settling down -- did I mention I teach third grade now. Herding twenty-six little munchkins around every day, I can begin to hear that infernal biological clock ticking, and I do want children and a family before it is too late. So, the final search for Mr. Right is on (as opposed to Mr. Right-Now), and don't worry; there are many prospects.

So, my fantasy now is gazing at my Mr. Right standing naked at the bathroom mirror shaving in the morning light. Or better yet -- adoringly watch him as he steps from his evening shower, his body still glistening with droplets of water. Dreamily admiring those precious jewels dangling between his legs as I anxiously await him to join me in bed, he turns to walk toward me, and I call out loud and proud, "Look at the balls on that guy."