I think it's time to talk about my balls. I've been tapping
and typing up crap for this page going on 13 years now, and have never
really given any time to my nuts. Sure, I've talked about the efforts
they've made as I've had sex with this lady and jerked off over that -
but they've been pushed into the background like character actors or
*gasp* scenery.
It's time for them to shine. It's time for them to sparkle. It's time
for them to be stars!
About 3 weeks ago there was a gigantic blizzard in Minnesota. We
received nearly 4 feet of snow in less than 48 hours. A few months
prior to this blizzard, my
girlfriend insisted we save money by switching to a smaller
garbage can. Now, a few months later, that smaller garbage can was
overly full. It was worse than full -- it was backed
up with excess garbage waiting in the wings. Did my girl -- who
insisted on this smaller, cheaper can -- bring
the garbage to the end of the driveway with 4 feet of snow by herself?
Of course
not. Did she insist I drag it down there without offering any help
whatsoever? Absolutely. Did I agree to do
such a stupid thing? Take a guess. A man needs to get laid.
MEN ARE SUPER HORNY.
There I was -- a man, his impending boner, 45 inches of snow
... and his 70-pound garbage can. A garbage can filled to the point of
overflowing 3 times over (stuff was packed down so hard, I wondered if
the garbage man would be able to shake it all free). Holy
Christ, this thing was heavy. And I pushed it 35 feet. Through 4 feet
of snow. Stopping every couple of feet to essentially "hug" the can and
lift it over the 5 foot piles of snow it was creating. All
this strain for some potential vagina. What guy would do
differently? You? I didn't think so. Unless you're gay. But then you'd
do it for anus. Different hole, same idea.
After lifting, pushing, tugging, pulling (sounds like the sex I was
hoping for), the can made it to the end of the driveway. But my balls
-- the stars of this update -- didn't fare as well. They hurt. Like a
bitch. It felt like a midget was standing in front of my crotch
head-butting my nuts over and over and over again as he sang about
Lollipop Guilds and yellow brick roads. It hurt that way all night ...
and then it just kept hurting. That invisible, head-butting midget
turned out to be one persistent bastard.
AREN'T THEY ALL?
After a week of non-stop nut-pain, I decided to do a Google search for
something profound, such as, "non-stop nut-pain." Found lots of
frightening things (and you wouldn't BELIEVE what I discovered about
midgets -- pervs!). The most frightening being cancer and a medical
testicle distortion called TORSION. Torsion is where your sperm-strings
wrap around your testicle like a vengeful puppet master, strangle it,
and kill it dead. That was
enough for me. It was time to visit urgent care.
After giving me a "semi" that left me feeling simultaneously humiliated
and aroused, the urgent care doctor told me that torsion was unlikely
but cancer of the nuts was a possibility. I was also told my slightly
erect penis was "no problem" and that it "happens all the time." "It's
perfectly natural," I was promised as I privately contemplated whether
or
not suicide over the ordeal was equally "natural." An ultrasound was
ordered
to, "be on the safe side." Supposedly it was "non-invasive." What I
wasn't told was that a hot female would spend 30 minutes cupping my
balls with one of her hands while rubbing lube over them with the
other.
OH WELL.
About a week later (would have been a day, but I kept rescheduling out
of fear, embarrassment and the fact I kept sleeping through my
appointments), I showed up in the cancer ward of the hospital to have
my balls rubbed. I preemptively shaved my scrotum just in case a woman
did the job. Smart preemptive move on my part (take that, George W.
Bush, you incompetent ass with all your lousy preemptiveness), as my
name was called by a fuckable
chick who told me she would be the one playing with my privates. My now
hairless, immaculate privates.
*DROOL*
We went into a room where she told me I could leave my shirt on
but was to remove my jeans and underwear. I took my pants off
and she
dimmed the lights (although it felt like she was setting the mood, I
think it happened so
she could better see my balls on her monitor). She gave me a towel to
put over my prick as "this ultrasound only calls for the testicles." Oh
man, did I use that towel to my advantage. As she slowly
rubbed my nuts with liquid ("at least it's warm," she said - not that
warm HELPED), I pressed down hard on that towel at the first sign of
arousal. I was crimping my boner!
SHE NOTICED.
After 10 or 15 minutes of ball-rubbing (with both her hand and her
ball-rubby thing), she asked me to "loosen" my grip on the towel so she
could, "go further up." I let go, she rubbed hot oil on my shaft and
"it moved." Thoughts of Dick Cheney, Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck were
all that saved me from a full-on erection (I knew those right-wing
Nazis were good for something). This may be male ego -- or it may be my
perfectly shaved scrotum turning her crank -- but I swear if I had
asked she would have removed her pants, sat on my cock and provided the
happiest of happy endings ever found in the ultrasound room of the
cancer ward.
MISSED OPPORTUNITY #1,437!
Keeping this medical procedure professional was like a new form of
torture.
Especially when she loosened up and started using "nuts" and "balls" in
place of "testicles" and "scrotum" and "dick" in place of "penis"
during what was becoming a casual conversation (a casual conversation
occurring as we both stared at an ultrasound monitor revealing my
balls). At this point I felt warm from my neck to the top of my skull.
I think, for the first time ever, I was blushing. I hadn't been this
horny since I was a teenager. And still, I had to keep myself at least
semi-limp.
CAN YOU IMAGINE?!?
To keep my dick swinging instead of standing at attention, I jokingly
said, "It's
a boy!" as the monitor revealed my nuts. I then said, feeling my joke
was slightly lame, "I bet you've heard that one before." She was honest
and
said she hears it quite often. She then took a breath, looked at me and
said, "But never delivered quite as well." I could feel the breath she
exhaled all over my phallus. So warm. So welcoming. My face and neck
stopped being so red, as the blood rushed down to my cock. Never ...
when you're rubbing his genitals ... tell a funny man he's humorous.
Never. Fighting this erection was like Luke Skywalker resisting joining
his
father and the Emperor in Return of the Jedi .... next to impossible.
BUT I KEPT IT SOFT (sort of).
My next move was to ask her if I could get some pics of the ultrasound.
I asked her if
she had ever been asked for photos of nuts during a nut exam. She
responded, "No -- that one
I have never heard." And she chuckled. Her chuckles throbbed in my cock
like a heartbeat (luckily she didn't have the sound on on the
Ultrasound). Oh, did I want to let
go and let my penis grow to maximum size. But I didn't. I kept it under
control and under 7 inches. I'm not sure if she was ever aroused or if
she noticed my arousal, but I'd like to believe she secretly wrote down
my contact number and is ready to take this all the way. Can you really
play with a man's genitals for 30 minutes and have it mean nothing?
WOMEN -- DON'T ANSWER THAT!
Since that day, I've dreamed of her. She did reveal something scary --
I have 3 cysts on my immaculate nuts. At least 1 of them is larger than
they "would like" (she told me not to worry about it until
someone who hasn't bounced my balls around for half an
hour gives their diagnoses). If
it turns out I have testicular cancer, I'm going to find her. I'm going
to take her in
my arms and rekindle the magic that we had between us over that 30-odd
minutes. If
that happens and my girlfriend objects? That's what you get when you
bust your man's balls to save $6.00 a year for a smaller garbage can
and make him push that fucker out during the worst snow-storm in 2
decades.
OH, YOU HORNY MEN!
I realize 99.999% of males have ejaculated, gone limp, grown erect and
ejaculated again while reading this (my heart raced while writing the
thing, and I lived it!). Don't worry ... it's natural. Why are we so
ashamed? We're built to impregnate. Sure, we rarely want to, but it's
how we're built. If you cum in under a minute, you're just doing your
job. A LAME job, but you're still doing it. Could you hold out for 30
minutes without getting fully hard? Better
practice ... you never know when your balls will need to be caressed by
a sexy stranger for 30 minutes, "just to be safe."
Love it? Hate it? Want your nuts rubbed? Email
Alex!
Back
to The Juicy Cerebellum!
©2010 Alex Sandell [All Rights Reserved]. Copy this without my
permission and I'll politely ask you to suck me off ... starting with
my smooth, smooth balls!
