Book Excerpt for Busting Brad's Balls

Busting Brad's Balls

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Book Description

I'm a pole dancer. He's a wrestler. He thinks he can beat me in a fight because he's got more skills, he's twice my weight, and is mostly hulking muscle. He's wrong. Why? I'm so glad you asked...

You see, I am a ball-busting bitch. There, I admitted it. Have I got your attention? This is the story about how I tricked Brad Houser, wrestling star at my university, into getting me off, again and again, receiving nothing in return except pain in his poor, defenseless balls. He thought he could beat be in a no-rules wrestling match. He should have thought twice. Then again, I'm glad he didn't!

Don't get me wrong; I'm quite fond of Brad. I may even grow to love him. But I think I'm most fond of him when he's squirming underneath me, and under my complete control. And maybe, at the end of the night, if he's really good, I'll make it up to him...

Disclaimer: This is an erotic short story. It contains adult themes and is intended for a mature audience. The story contains BDSM themes, including bondage, femdom, and ball-busting. All characters in this story are over 18 years of age, and all sexual activity depicted herein is safe, enthusiastic and consensual.

Book Length: 11,000 Words

Keywords: BDSM Couples Erotica, Bondage Romance, Ballbusting, F/m: Female Domme / Male Sub, Coed Wrestling, Handcuffs, Teasing, Ball-Torture, Sexual Denial, Oral Sex, Penis Gag Sex, HFN Ending

Busting Brad's Balls

I am a ball-busting bitch. What I mean by that is, I get off on making men suffer. Specifically-and I want to make this clear in no uncertain terms-I do this by exploiting their most easily accessed, eminently vulnerable, and extremely delicate weakness. I'm talking about their balls, boys and girls. Their testicles. Their dangling doolies. Their nausea-inducing nut-sacks. Have I got your attention? I think I heard a few girls in the audience giggle, and a few of the boys cringe in fear. You should be afraid, boys. You should be very afraid.

How long have I been like this? Well, I can't tell you exactly when this fascination began. Like all fetishes, it started with something innocent. Well, relatively innocent. My childhood memories at this point are vague, but I remember spending a lot of time in the principal's office after some boy who'd been teasing me had then been found on the ground crying his eyes out, and moaning and clutching their groin. Claiming, once he could eventually speak intelligibly again, that I'd kicked him in his delicates. I don't remember what this boy had done to me exactly. It was probably a slight of some kind, and likely one that was largely imaginary. What can I say? A lot of kids misbehave, and throw tantrums. At a very early age, I'd somehow intuited that if you kick a boy there, the fight's over, and he's not getting back up for awhile.

Flash forward to a few years later. In high school, it's more or less the same story, but the memories are more distinct. And by high school, I'd developed a reputation, and I think that reputation did me no favors. My body had developed, and the boys had started to notice me, and-I don't mind telling you-I kind of enjoyed the glances I got. I'd make a special point of wearing the most revealing, torn clothes I could. I was a Goth girl, so this would come complete with a choker, and a lacy bra, and perhaps a see-through top that exposed my midriff, and then maybe a plaid mini-skirt to drive the boys wild. You might think I got a lot of action in high school because of this, but you'd be wrong. A side effect of my reputation was that all the boys were too afraid of me to ask me out. Though some of them wouldn't admit to being afraid of me, and would try to provoke me, saying a tiny girl like me was no match for them anymore. It was also around this time that the boys started to get really big, so I started taking women's self-defense classes to make sure I learned everything I could about how to protect myself against a man twice my size. The result was a lot of macho guys hollering at me, taunting me, and then winding up on the floor, writhing, vomiting, passing out, or some combination of all three, after just one well-timed and well-practiced kick.

Oh-did I mention I was also a cheerleader? And believe me when I say, we cheerleaders learn to kick. And we can kick hard!

****

Cut to university. Present Day-or at least, just last week.

I'm going to admit something else now too. At 19, I was still a virgin. It wasn't for lack of offers-believe me, there were many-though as time went on, those offers did become few and far between. My reputation preceded me, and generally, the college boys wanted very little to do with me. And the college girls, well...here's the thing about women. Women hate women. Especially when they think you're prettier than they are. The problem, ladies-and yes, I'm talking to you now, for the moment-is that we can be horribly dishonest with ourselves. Almost as dishonest and deluded as men can be. Almost. Women will hate other women but not know why, or at least pretend not to know why. But I'm only all-too-aware of why. When I'm on the street and a man walks by with a woman under his arm, he'll still look at me, and he'll think she doesn't notice. But boys, just to be clear-yes, I'm talking to you now-she does notice, though not for the reason you think. She's simply also noticed the pretty girl, and she knows, whether you'll admit to it or not, that you're looking at her, and that you're thinking about how much better it would be to be with a hot girl like her. A hot girl like me. And your girlfriend will blame me for that. Not you. Even though she's never even met me. I can't count the number of times I've passed by an average-looking guy on the street with a girl under his arm, and had her shoot me the dirtiest look, and close her arms protectively around her man. And I laugh to myself.

Bitch, I don't want your average-looking man! Get over yourself!

Although that may not exactly be true. Remember what I said about still being a virgin at nineteen? Well, it was starting to get to me. I was beginning to think I'd missed my window, and that now, at nineteen, no guy wanted to be the one to pop my cherry. I'm savvy. I use the internet. I know what the boys warn one another about. They seem to think that just because we lose our virginity to some otherwise average boy, we'll feel like we're his. Like were devoted now or something, and that we'll cling to him for dear life. This is a ridiculous myth, and it makes me sick.

Actually, you know what it makes me feel like doing? It makes me feel like kicking these men right in the goddamned balls! This actually happens a lot, and I think it's getting to be a problem. Because you know what, boys and girls? I get horny sometimes too. I get lonely too. And often enough, I'll be out and about, wearing a sexy dress at a club, and a guy will hit on me...and really...I like the attention. It's a turn on! And then maybe we'll dance, and then we'll sneak off someplace and get frisky. And then he'll start trying to overpower me. After all, I'm not a big girl. I'm still quite petite and only 5'1". So he'll think I'm easy to control or whatever, and then my women's self-defense reflexes kick in, so to speak. Then up comes the knee, and down goes the boy. Down for the count.

And then I pretty much have to leave before he gets back up-aw who are we kidding? I've never seen a men get back up right after I've kicked him there. Sorry, guys, but for all your bragging and machismo, you're just really quite weak there. You're big, I'll give you that. You're way stronger-I'll grant you that too. But we can still take you. And we will always be able to. Sorry, boys. That's just how it is. Anyway, usually when that reflex kicks in, I need to get out of there before I get arrested.

****

So, with that off my chest, here's a little about me. Like I said, I'm 5'1". Yes, I'm short. I'm also a mere 110 lbs, give or take. I've got curves though, and a rather generous bust, and hence all the attention I get. I can't exactly say I'm an effortless beauty. In fact, I think that's another myth. I work hard to stay fit. These days it's pole dancing, which is hard work, but it's also fun, and makes for great supplemental income if you're willing to dance in front of the boys. And I certainly am, for the right price.

Then there's Brad Houser, who's got me a little hot and bothered these days because, my god, he's fucking hot! At 6'1", he's pretty much a full head taller than me, and he's maybe 220 lbs, maybe more. Like I said, a lot of guys out there really do outweigh me by a factor of 2. He's also a wrestling star at the university, and I admit, I've made a point of going to see some of his matches, and there is something that's a little exciting to me about watching a pair of grown, well-built boys in spandex suit wrestle on another for dominance. Sometimes when I go and see his matches, I wonder what it would be like to wrestle with him. And there's a part of me that's excited by the idea!

I first noticed Brad, by noticing him noticing me. That's often the way of things. The way I look, I seem to attract a lot of male attention. Usually I find it pretty tedious, but in Brad's case, it's become more of a fun little game. I'll play hard to get, and for his part, he'll play the patent hunter waiting to trap me. Waiting for that right time to make his move. Actually, in this case, I was uniquely frustrated by just how patient he seemed to be. It was a paradox of sorts, because I really wanted him to try to take me at some point, but I also knew that when he did, he'd likely wind up on the floor clutching his aching balls, and I'd be out of a proper suitor again. And this guy is...special.

I like Brad. Make no mistake about that. I'm not some man-hating bitch that wants to kick men in the balls out of spite. Well, not entirely, anyway. Like I said before, I get off on it, but I'm realizing more and more that this tendency of mine has made me alone. The boys, they're mostly afraid of me. And the girls, well, they just don't understand it. I think it's a power trip for me. Most women seem to be content to let the boys take control. But why let them take control when you can? I think God, or Mother Nature, or whoever the hell put testicles on the outside of males wanted females to dominate by targeting them. That just seems obvious to me.

****

It was perhaps my third or fourth date with Brad-depending on what you consider a proper date, since we've had a lot of 'hang-out' sessions too-when it finally happened. Up until this point, our relationship hadn't exactly been sexual, though I think both of us were trying to push it in that direction. At least I was. He'd invited me to watch some of his wrestling matches, which got me a little hot and bothered, so I wanted to even the score. I'd invited him to come and watch me pole dance, and for that particular time, I'd worn a particularly skimpy bikini and pumps, and I made eye contact with him, and sultrily shifted my shoulders and hips towards him for the entire time. And that's what finally did it, I like to think.

We were having a drink afterwards, and just talking about things. He'd been talking about his wrestling matches, and I'd suggested I could probably take him.

"I could probably take you," I said.

He laughed at that, and my inner ball-busting bitch stirred.

"There's no way you could take me," said Brad.

"Of course there is. You saw what I could do onstage tonight. That takes a lot of strength you know, to be able to hold myself upside down, hanging off the pole. You think that's easy?"

"I'm not trying to diminish your talent," he said. "It's just a simple matter of weight ratios. I'm a lot bigger than you, and far stronger, and anyway, I wouldn't want to hurt you. I mean-no offense-I know you work hard. It shows. And it's really sexy."

"Aw..." I said, blushing a little. "You really think so?"

"Yeah, of course! It's really...uh...kind of a turn on."

"Oh? Would you like a private dance?"

"What, you mean here?"

"No, of course not here," I said. "I don't expect you to pay me for a private dance. I want to give you one. I have my own pole at home in my living room. Do you want to come over? I could give you a private dance. We'd be alone together all night..." I said this last bit while biting my lip. What was it going to take to get Brad to take the hint? I was starting to get frustrated, and my inner bitch wanted to bust his balls for it.

"I'd like that," he said.

"You would?"

"Of course," he said. "But are you sure you can trust me to behave?"

"Oh, you'll behave. Like I said, I can take you."

He laughed again.

"I don't think so."

"We'll see about that then," I said.

****

We finished our drinks and then he drove back me to my place while I directed him. He parked outside my apartment, which is a roomy basement apartment, so I can make it quite private, and it has the added bonus of being a lot bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside.

My pole is at the center of the room, and there's a couch seated in front of it. I'd often thought it would be fun to dance privately in front of someone, though up until this point, this had never actually happened. This would be the first time. Actually, if I got lucky tonight, it would be a number of first times for me.

"Nice place," he said.

"Thank you! Why don't you sit down? Can I get you another drink?"

"What have you got?"

"Beer. Wine. Milk. Juice. Water."

"I'll have a beer thanks."

I went to the fridge and got him one, and walked to him. Then I twisted off the top, with a satisfying sound of the breaking of pressure, and then I handed it to him. He took it and took the first sip, and then nearly spit it out when he saw what I did next.

I slipped off my dress and let it drop to the floor, leaving me in nothing but my pumps and my skimpy dancing bikini.

He seemed to almost instinctively reach for me, his eyes transfixed on my tits.

I gently smacked his hand, and he pulled it away.

"You agreed to watch me dance, remember?"

"Yes," he laughed. "Of course. Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay," I said with a smile. "I wouldn't have invited you in if I didn't know what I was getting myself into."

Then I danced for him while he drank his beer. Gradually, as I danced, I noticed him getting notably more excited and shifting around uncomfortably. Something was happening in the front of his pants, I could tell. Something was happening for me too, if I'm to be completely honest, and I could feel the first twinges of desire moisten down there. There's something about a hot guy watching me dance and wanting me that makes me feel complete as a woman. And I wanted him too. But I refused to make the first move. I danced, and showed him my sexiest, and most impressive moves, which included suspending myself horizontally with my arms, and suspending myself upside down with my legs. I broke a sweat while doing this too, either from trying harder than normal because I wanted to impress him, or because I was otherwise getting hot and bothered.

****

The music ended, and I stopped dancing.

"So what do you think?" I asked.

"That was amazing, Jessica," he said.

"It takes a lot of strength to do that, you know."

"I'm sure it does."

"Do you think you could pull off any of those moves?"

"Probably not," he confessed.

"So you still think you'd have the edge on me in a wrestling match?"

"Are you still on this? Jess, I've been wrestling for years! Since my junior year of high school. How much wrestling experience do you have?"

"Very little," I admitted.

"What on earth possesses you to think you'd stand any chance against me? I'm twice your size. I'm far stronger than you. Maybe you can hold your own hundred pound frame up on that pole, but can you oppose a two-hundred-twenty pound frame bearing down on you."

Admittedly, the thought of his two-hundred-twenty pound frame bearing down on me was getting me a little hot right now.

"Yes. I do," I said defiantly.

"Well, you're out of your mind," he said.

"Care to make it a wager?" I asked.

He narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously, and then took a drink from his beer.

"Are you serious?"

"I'm deadly serious," I said, extending my arms and taunting him, swaying my bikini-clad hips back and forth. "You think you can take me no problem? I say prove it."

"Oh, I'd like to take you," he said. "Just not in the way I think you mean."

"Oh really? And what way is that?" I asked.

He looked embarrassed and adjusted his crotch again. Obviously there was a raging erection down there.

"I kind of want to have sex with you," he said sheepishly.

"Only kind of?"

"Okay...really badly," he admitted.

I smiled triumphantly. Now I had him right where I wanted him.

"Well," I started. "If you can manage to beat me in a wrestling match, then you can...have me!"

"Are you serious?" he said.

"You keep asking me that. What makes you think I'm not?"

"I just don't want to hurt you, that's all. I like you."

"You don't have to hurt me," I said. "You just have to pin me down for ten seconds. And look at me. Would you really want to pass up an opportunity to wrestle with this? And if you win, Brad. Then you can do whatever you want with me. You could tie me up...You could tease me...You could fuck me...all night. Until the sun comes up."

"Really?" he said.

"Really. Whatever you want. I even have a pair of handcuffs you could use to restrain me if you like. Not that a big guy like you would need them of course. But you could. I think I'd even like that. And you could do anything you want."

"I don't really see how I could turn an offer like that down," he said, adjusting his crotch again. Look greedily at my goodies.

"But if I win, I get to handcuff you."

"Fine," he said. "But you won't win."

"Don't be so sure," I said.

"Really? How do you expect to win?"

"I just need to keep you on the floor for ten seconds, right?"

"Right. But I don't see any way you could achieve that."

"We'll see. Ready?"

He shrugged, put down his beer, and then got to his feet. Then got into his wrestling stance.

"Ready," he said.

****

Brad came straight at me, which I was more or less expecting, and so I timed my kick perfectly and got him square in the nuts!

With his momentum, he continued forward, but it was pretty easy for me to pirouette out of the way and sent him slumping to the ground.

I had kicked him as hard as I could. I probably shouldn't have, but what can I say? I really wanted to win! Winning meant I got to handcuff him. And toy with him...assuming that was okay. Him in handcuffs meant a lot of fun for me, and a lot of pain for him!

I looked down at him and got ready to hold him and count, but then I realized he wasn't even conscious anymore. I'd actually caused him to pass out with a single kick! That fact made me incredibly wet! He was so powerful, and to take him down with one kick like that, well, that made me feel incredibly powerful. And perhaps a little guilty. I would have to make it up to him somehow. Well...maybe. We'll see. For now, I'd won the wager, so I went to my room and brought out my box of toys.

Here's what was in my box of toys, among other things. I have a number of vibrators, for my own personal use-and believe me-they get a lot of use, because I get horny a lot. I guess a life of celibacy does that to a girl my age. But I have a lot of other toys, things I'd bought in the hopes of finding the right partner. The handcuffs, of course, you know about. But I also have other things there. On a whim, I bought a penis gag. Please don't judge me or laugh at me, but one of my ultimate fantasies is getting a guy to make me come over and over again with this strapped to his face, possibly while I play cruel games with his cock and balls.

Of course I would still need Brad's consent for this. He'd merely agreed to being handcuffed for the night. Everything else would have to wait until he awoke.

I took out the handcuffs, and then went to lock up Brad. I stopped and decided I wanted him topless for this, so I pulled off his shirt, and then I took the handcuffs and locked Brad's hands behind his back.

Then I got a got look at him, and the sight of him nearly took my breath away! I'd seen him in his spandex outfits before, and that didn't leave much to the imagination, but now that I got a good look at him topless, I was positively elated. Brad was gorgeous! Every muscle seemed to be perfectly chiseled into his powerful frame. Perfects pecs. Perfect abs. And he was all mine! I just want to rub myself up against him and lick and kiss him. But first, I needed to wake the poor boy up. Hopefully he wouldn't be too cross with me.

Then I shook him awake.

"Hey," I said, when he finally opened his eyes.

"What happened?" he asked, a little disoriented.

"Well, we made a bet," I said. "We had a wrestling match, and you lost by knock out."

"You kicked me in the balls," he said.

"Yeah," I said.

"That's cheating!"

"You never said I couldn't cheat," I said with a wry smile.

He tugged at the cuffs behind his back, suddenly noticing them.

"Did you put handcuffs on me?"

"That was part of the deal, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. But you cheated!"

"Shh," I hushed, and then kissed him on the mouth. He kissed me back. That was all I needed to know. He was still mine. "Are you mad at me?"

"Not anymore," he said. "Where's my shirt?"

"I took it off. I like looking at you like this. You're really fucking hot."

"Ugh, so are you," he moaned, still looking a little uncomfortable.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"I don't know. My balls still ache like a motherfucker."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to kick you so hard. I didn't think you'd seriously just pass out like that."

"Neither did I," he said. "No one's ever done that to me before. God, they still hurt."

"Want me to check on them for you?"

"I guess. Just please, don't do that again."

I smiled in place of answering, and unzipped his pants. Then I pulled down his boxers and inspected his privates. His cock sprang free, and I could see that it was still mostly erect.

"Ooo, someone's excited."

"There's a hot girl in a bikini whose face is so close to my cock I can feel her breath on it. Of course I'm excited."

I smiled. I then reached down and felt for his balls in his scrotum... one... two. Both seemed to be there. Both were still egg-shaped. I gave them a slight squeeze.

"Ow," he yelped.

"Sorry," I said. "I couldn't help myself. I think your balls are perfectly fine. They certainly feel fine to me."

"Well they don't to me," he said.

"I'm sorry," I giggled. "How can I make it up to you?" I whispered this last part, and then slowly lowered my mouth to his cock without breaking eye contact. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Probably," he said shyly.

"What?" I said. "Be specific."

"I want you to suck my cock."

I smiled, and was then only too happy to oblige.

****

I've never actually sucked a man's cock before. Not a real one, anyway. I had watched a lot of porn though, and then I had practiced alone with that penis gag. In fact, one could argue that the penis gag was my first artificial boyfriend. I used to practice sucking it, imaging I was helping some beautiful boy get to the brink of orgasm, and then riding him until we both came together. Then I would ride my penis gag on the training dummy I kept in my room, and come, and come, until I felt satisfied and put it all away. Then I would feel really empty. Because really, it's a fantasy I always wanted to share with a real guy. Would Brad be my guy? He was certainly into it right now.

Sucking a real cock is different, I'll say that much. For one thing, there's a real man behind it, and he makes noises-delightful, sexy pleasured noises. Desperate noises.

Then suddenly I stopped, and just looked at Brad's cock, and then back at him in mock indignation.

"Hey!" I said.

"What?" he asked, his breathing still heavy from the throes of pleasure, and I could feel him trying to thrust his cock back up into my mouth, but shackled as he was, he was in no position to do so.

"I won the bet. You should be the one pleasuring me," I said. "Bad. Bad, bad, Brad.

Those last four syllables were each pair with a light slap on his balls with one hand, while the other gripped them and held them exposed. I'd abused balls before. But never before had I had so much precision and control. Or an erect cock in my face. I liked having Brad like this.

"Ow, ow, ow, please stop."

"Sorry...I got a little carried away..." I said. Though I didn't let go. "It's just so easy, and your balls are just so...vulnerable!"

He tugged at his cuffs again, and gave me a look that I didn't quite like. It looked a little violent. Like he maybe wanted to hurt me.

"Take these off me," he said.

I suddenly felt a little twinge of fear. Things weren't going well, I thought. Had I fucked this all up? And if I let him go, was he going to try to get even and hurt me? Or worse...rape me?

No, not Brad, I thought. There had been a few close calls in the past, but I'd always been able to fight them off. And Brad would never do that, would he? And anyway, he wouldn't dare try. He already knows how hard I can kick.

"You agreed to this, though."

"But you cheated," he said.

"So if I beat you without cheating, you'd be fine with this then?" I asked.

He stopped for a moment and seemed to consider this.

"I guess."

"Well then relax because I didn't cheat. We said 'no rules', remember?"

"I don't remember you saying 'no rules'," he said.

"I'm pretty sure I did," I said, and gently stroked his cock. "I said 'no rules'."

"I said I didn't want to hurt you."

"I know. And I said you didn't have to. All you had to do was pin me. But I didn't say you couldn't hurt me. Just that you didn't have to. And I never promised not to hurt you. Though I am sorry...I really didn't mean to kick you so hard. Do you think you can forgive me?"

Before he could answer, I gently took his cock back into my mouth again, and slowly gave him very sensual head, never breaking eye contact, my eyes saying to him that though I was maybe being kind of mean, I really did want him to enjoy himself.

"Yeah, okay."

I took his cock out of my mouth.

"Cool," I said with a smile, and promptly tucked it back into his pants for now.

****

"Oh, that's mean!" he said, as I zipped up his fly.

But he still had a big smile on his face.

"I'm just getting started," I said, and then kissed his lips, while gently grinding my moist, bikini-clad crotch again his throbbing erection.

"Oh...Jess..." he moaned.

"I bet you wish you could take me right now," I said.

"I do," he admitted.

"Tell you what, Brad," I said. "I'll challenge you to a second game. If you can win that, I'll take those cuffs off you, and my original offer still stands. The cuffs come off you, and they go on me. You can torture me all night if you want to. Or you can force me to suck your cock all night if that's what you want. You can even fuck me, but you'll have to promise to be gentle."

"Of course," he says.

"Sure, you say that now," I said with a smile. "But you don't know the rules of the game yet."

"Okay, so what is it?"

"Well, you say it's not fair, that I cheated. If you knew low blows were allowed, would you still have challenged me?"

"Probably," he said. "I'm not sure."

"You would be allowed to kick back of course."

"All right..." he said, seeming a bit confused.

"So I challenge you to a game of roshambo."

"You mean, like, rock, paper, scissors?

"No...Roshambo. You kick me in the crotch, then I kick you in the crotch. First person to give up first loses."

"I'm pretty sure that's not what roshambo is."

"I'm pretty sure in no position to argue."

"Fair enough."

"So come on, Brad. I'll even give you the first shot."

"I've said this before. I don't want to hurt you."

"Really? After I kicked you really hard right in the nutsack? You don't want your revenge?"

"Can't my revenge just be to fuck you?" he asked.

I smiled. "If you win it can. But then again, what makes you think I won't enjoy that as much as you?"

"You think you would?" he asked with a hopeful look on his face.

"Of course I would! You're fucking hot, Brad! I kind of want to just fuck you right now."

"Cool, well...let's do that then," he said eagerly.

God damn it! I thought. I shouldn't have admitted to that. I wanted him to work for it. To have to earn it.

"God damn it, Brad," I said. "You changed the subject. If you want to fuck me, Brad, you have to play my game. I'm not going to help you. You have to win. You have to take control. If you can do that, you can do anything you want."

"Okay," he said.

"Can you stand?" I asked.

"Can I stand?" he scoffed. "Of course."

And without needing his hands, he stood.

"Ready?" I smiled.

"Wait," he said.

"What?"

"I want some rules this time."

"Okay."

"And I want to know what you get if I lose."

"You're not confident you'll win this time?"

"Not at all," he said.

"Good," I said. "It means you're smarter than you look."

"Yeah...thanks...I guess."

"If I win, here's what I'm going to do, so you're not confused about my plans for you this evening. If I win, I'll be locking your feet together, and then I'm going to put this on you."

I held up the penis gag.

"What's that?" he asked.

"It's a penis gag, Brad. And I'm going to ride it while it's on your face."

"Oh," he said slowly. "You know, we can just do that if you want. You don't have to kick me in the-"

"Oh, come on, Brad. I promise I won't kick you as hard as I can this time. I'll only kick you with twenty percent power. And you get to kick me as hard as you want."

"Are you sure? I can kick pretty hard."

"I bet you can. But I don't think you'll hurt me."

"And you promise no harder than twenty percent on me?"

"I promise. And if you win, you get a willing sex slave for the night. Sound like a deal?"

"Okay," he said.

"Okay," I said. "You get the first kick."

"Okay, here goes," said Brad.

****

Brad took a few steps in and then kicked. And though he's a strong guy, I could tell having his hands locked behind him like this was playing with his ability to balance, or kick at full power. Or maybe he was simply holding back. Maybe he truly just didn't want to hurt me. But come on! Like that was going to happen!

"Ooo," I said, trying to downplay the pain. I have to admit, it did hurt a little bit. And there might be a bruise later, but there might be one by the end of the night anyway, if he got his way with me. But he really couldn't do to my pussy what I could do to his dangling testicles. Come on, everyone must know that!

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I smiled. "Of course. Are you ready for yours?"

"Okay," he said, wincing.

I smiled with satisfaction at the anticipation. He looked so frightened. So apprehensive. I psyched him out a few times.

"Will you just do it already," he snapped finally.

"You asked for it," I said, and snapped my foot forward and gave him a little snapping toe kick to the balls. And as promised, it was only twenty percent. Well, maybe I cheated again. Maybe it was more like thirty.

Okay, maybe fifty.

He tried to stand and look brave for a moment, but then his legs started to wobble.

"Oh, shit," he said, and dropped to his knees.

"I'm sorry," I said again. "Are you okay?"

"Oh god," he said. And then his face grew more and more pained.

I got down on my knees too.

"What are you feeling right now?" I said, our faces so close we were almost kissing. "How does it feel? I want to know."

"Oh god, the pain just keeps building. What the hell? It's like it's getting worse."

"I'm sorry," I said, not really sounding particularly sorry. Sorry, but not sorry. Seeing him like this was making me so wet! "You could kick me again now if you want."

"God, no. No, I'm done," he said.

"That's really all you can take down there? That can't be very convenient."

"It's usually not an issue," he groaned.

"It is tonight obviously," I said. "Well, I won."

I got up and went to my toy chest, and produced the ankle cuffs, which I secured on him. For extra control, I was sure to loop them through his handcuffs, so that he was effectively hogtied-or hog-chained, if you will.

"Hey, you just said they'd be cuffed together. You didn't say you'd do this."

"They are merely cuffed together. Just through your handcuffs, that's all."

"You're really sneaky, Jess, you know that?"

"I know," I said with a smile. "Now open wide."

He did as he was told, and opened his mouth, and in went the short end of the penis gag. It had two different sizes on either side of it-effectively a small cock and a big cock. I decided that-although I hadn't specified-I wouldn't be mean and shove the bigger end down his throat tonight. Besides, the bigger cock was to go in me, just the way I liked it!

****

"Comfy?" I asked, when I'd finished securing the penis gag behind his head.

"Mot weawwy," he said through the gag.

I looked down at him. His hands and feet locked together behind his back beneath him, pushing his beautifully sculpted, muscular wrestler's torso outwards, not to mention how vulnerable it made his privates look.

"Well, I'd like to say things will get better for you tonight. But I don't think they will. I'm certainly going to have a good time. You, I'm not so sure."

He made a pathetic whimpering sound. A kind of combination of fear and desperate horniness. This really wasn't going to be terribly fair. But my inner pervert was ready to take what she wanted now, and I wanted to ride his face. And he'd agreed to this after all. But strangely, there was a part of me that wanted to please him too. Even now. Even when I clearly didn't have to.

I slid down my dripping wet pussy onto the penis gag on his face, and slowly rode it. God, it felt so good! Like I said earlier, I'd played like this on my own before, but always on my own. Having a real man under there, squirming and moaning...well...it made the whole experience so much better. I rode his face, letting the penis gag get me in all the right spots, building, building towards a climax. I could feel the first twinge of an orgasm coming on.

Could I cum quietly, I wondered? I should. Because there was one last thing I wanted to do. So I rode his face, and rode it until I came, convulsively.

"Oh god," I moaned. "Oh god this is so good. God, Brad, I've never done this before. This is so good!"

And for his part, Brad made muffled noises beneath me, and certainly didn't sound like he wasn't enjoying this somewhat too. And to look at his cock, well, Brad's cock looked like it was about to burst.

"You want me to pleasure you too, don't you, Brad?"

"Mmm-hmm," he moaned.

"Well, how about this?" I said, continuing to enjoy riding his face. "I'll make you one last offer. One last game. I can't promise you what I promised before, because really, Brad, I'm enjoying this so much now. You lost, and I plan on cashing in on my prize. But one last game, Brad. And if you win, I'll suck your cock, and I'll let you come in my mouth. Does that sound like something you'd enjoy?"

"Yeff! Mmm-hmm!" he sputtered.

"Good. I think I'd enjoy that too. But you're going to have to earn it, Brad, okay?"

"Okemph," he muffled through his gag.

"Okay." But this means you're going to have to experience a little more ball pain, okay? But you'll be doing it for me. Because I really like this, Brad. I like where you are, and all I want to do is beat your vulnerable little balls there while I ride you. Now, I've got my riding crop here from my box of toys. For every four times I pump my crotch up and down on your face, I whip you once. Like this."

I let him feel the sting as I whipped his balls with it. He let out a moan.

"How was that Brad? Was that too hard?"

"Unh...mo," he said.

I whipped his balls harder. Quite a bit harder, and felt a wave of excitement come over me.

"Ahahooow..." he moaned.

I think I'm about to come again, I realized.

"Too hard?" I said.

"Yeff," he whimpered.

And just the sound of his suffering made me come again. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. I didn't want him to know how easily all of this was making me come. I didn't speak again until I know I could do so without giving away that I was coming already.

"If you make me come just once, Brad. Just once, and I'll stop whipping your balls, and I'll suck your cock dry," I said directly over his cock as I said this, as if speaking into it, and then I gave it one good suck with my mouth for good measure. Then I stopped. "Deal?"

"Yeff," he said, and so I proceeded to ride his face hard. And every four pumps or so, I gave his nuts a smack with the riding crop. He would yelp, and I would try not to make any noise while I experienced orgasm after orgasm on top of him.

Yes; I admit it. I was cheating. Again. I was cheating horribly, but I wanted to win. And really, how was he ever to know? It's not like I have to stop when I come, and it's not like there's any discharge. Well, not any more discharge than all the secretions I was already making. I wondered if it was possible to dehydrate oneself through loss of vaginal secretions alone. Though we may both have been well on our way to dehydration, perhaps him more so than me.

****

By half an hour in-half an hour of riding his face, and whipping his balls-not hard enough to really injure him-but hard enough to make sure he was in pretty much constant pain-he was getting pretty sweaty. I admired the contours of his well chiseled chest and stomach muscles.

"Fuck, you're so hot, Brad. You make me so fucking horny, I don't even know what to... oh... god..." realized there was no disguising it this time, and that choosing to speak just then had been a mistake. Now even Brad, in his position could tell I was in the throes of a huge orgasm. So I just went with it. "I'm coming Brad. I'm coming," I shouted.

Beneath me, I heard him laugh in delight and relief, and a dark part of me didn't want him getting away with that, so I whipped him in the nuts really hard, and then he let out a cry and then a whimper.

I leaned forward toward his cock, not letting the penis gag out of my pussy just yet, still wanting more. But I knew I owed Brad by this point. A promise was a promise after all. And anyway, it's not like I'd really planned on cheating him out of his orgasm...had I? I smiled to myself wickedly. Of course I had! But another part of me just adored Brad, and wanted him to feel what I'd been feeling for the past half hour, so I took his cock into my mouth. Just the head at first. The moment I did, I heard a moan of pleasure come from beneath me.

"Hmm, let me see," I said. "My pussy is being entertained. My mouth is entertaining your cock...but what to do with my hands...?" And then I looked eagerly at his balls. He must, at this point, have had some sense of where I was going with this.

"Mo," he blubbered, "mo, mo, mo..."

I grabbed his balls in my hand and gently squeezed, and he let out a whimper.

"Shh," I said, between pumps with my mouth on his cock. "This isn't so bad, is it? I think this is very much the way it should be between a man and a woman. You could come at any time and it's all over. But me, I can just come again...and again...and again..." and I said this I was experiencing an orgasm, and though it was probably mean, I'd stopped his blowjob for the time being to selfishly enjoy it. "And sure, you're big and muscular, and you should be able to take what you want. But Brad, doesn't it make you happy knowing just how much you can satisfy me like this?"

"Mmm-hmm," he moaned.

"I thought so. Good boy," I said, and continued to suck his cock.

****

Having Brad in my mouth, while still cruelly squeezing his balls was such a delight! I began to learn more and more about his pain threshold. It wasn't very high, but he would get there. With a little practice and time. But also, I was learning more and more about his pleasure threshold too. And call me crazy, but I could swear that the closer he got to his own orgasm, the larger he felt in my mouth. Like he was swelling. I could feel him getting more and more engorged. And it wasn't long until it felt like he was ready to burst.

Finally, he did, and I felt his warm semen fill my mouth while his cock pulsated and kept pumping it out. There was a lot of it too, I thought. A lot more than I was expecting. But still, I wanted it to be good for him, so I gulped it all down.

Fuck, he must really be enjoying this too! I thought. Maybe almost as much as me!

And then I began to come again too, and we enjoyed the last of our orgasms together.

Then, finally, I climbed off him and took out the penis gag. Then I touched his face as the two of us continued to gasp for our breaths.

"Did you have a good time, Brad?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "You?"

"I came, didn't I?"

I kissed him, and it was a sweet kiss. I was very satisfied now, and didn't feel the urge to cause him any more ball pain. For now.

"How would you like to make this a regular thing?" I asked.

"Are you going to hurt my balls again if I don't answer correctly?" he asked.

"I'm going to hurt your balls again no matter what," I said with a wicked grin.

"Jess, please, that's not funny," he said. "I don't think I can take any more."

"Of course you can," I said. "We just have to build up your tolerance a little is all."

"I'm not sure I could ever tolerate what you have to give me."

"Of course you can. You just need motivation. That's all."

I kissed him again. He kissed back eagerly.

"I like you, Brad," I said.

"I like you too, Jess."

"Maybe we can make this a regular thing?" I asked. "I'll always make it worth your while..."

"Do you have to hurt my balls?"

"Yes," I said. "But only sometimes. We can always make a game of it," I said. "And sometimes you might even win. And then think about all the fun you could be having with me."

"I don't know..." he said.

"Are you scared I'll hurt you too badly?"

"Yeah, a little," he admitted.

"Well...I promise not to, okay? I'll never hurt you too much, Brad. I promise."

"You really hurt me earlier, you know. That first kick-"

"I know," I giggled, remembering it fondly. "But I'll never do that again, I swear. Never that hard."

Not unless I have to.

"Okay," he said.

"Good," I said. I smiled. It was a lie of course. He had no idea, but it was a lie. I had so many more torturous games in store in the future for poor naïve Brad. But deep down, I knew that in the end, we'd both come really hard, and that he'd always be coming back for more...

###

About the Author

Malicia Paine is a shy, reclusive, sultry nerd who lives in a little suburban house with a sexy husband who loves and supports her. She holds a master's degree in English literature, and has a rather unhealthy fascination with romance, BDSM, and crime fiction. For more information, please visit her website, or stay up-to-date on her latest titles by subscribing to her newsletter!

Bonus Material

(Excerpt from: Busting Brad's Balls 2)

It was another long night of dancing at the strip club. I'd been having kind of a rough night. I'd given only ten dances that night, and made about two hundred dollars for my efforts. So part of it was that I'd hoped to make more money that night, and part of it was that I didn't get to spend enough time teasing the boys. You see, I don't just think of stripping and giving private dances as a job-something I do-because I have to. I chose this job, because I can earn a lot of money doing it, and because I like doing it. There's something about being able to arouse a man and make him so eager for you after just a few minutes of lap dancing. But some nights are slow nights, and sometimes I just can't get enough. And after one or two dances, I started getting into it myself. I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe it's the pheromones my clients give off. By the fifth or sixth, I'm really horny myself, and when I get aroused, I think of my hunky boyfriend, Brad.

Well, Brad isn't exactly my boyfriend, I realize. Not yet. We'd only just started seeing one another, so it was perhaps too early to use that label. But just the knowledge that he was out there, and the memory of all the steamy things we did on our last date got me all hot and bothered. But Brad hasn't called me at all that day, and I was starting to worry he may have found himself another girl who doesn't demand...well, what I demand. I suppose I don't really demand it, per se, but I like torturing Brad. But I also think I might be falling in love with him, so it's a very weird place for me right now.

My roommate tells me that I should just call him myself, but that changes the power dynamic in the relationship. If I'm calling him, or texting him, he'll know I probably want him as badly as I want him to want me. But now my resolve is wavering, and I'm wondering if maybe I really do want him more than he wants me. Or that I need him more than he needs me.

I could probably have any guy I want. God knows I get lots of offers in a night. And some of them are kinda cute. And most of them are passable, and I know I could get them to behave if I wanted them to. But the heart wants what the heart wants, as they say. And my heart wanted Brad. And I'd been torturing myself about it for three days already, and what I really wanted to be doing was torturing him!

I gave my eleventh and final dance for the night, and this time the guy got a bit frisky with me. I half just wanted to let him touch me out of spite for Brad, but I knew I shouldn't. So I told him to stop, but he wouldn't. So, of course, I employed a hard, swift kick to his nutsack and he toppled like a tower of Jenga blocks. He spent the next ten minutes on the floor in the back room of the club. When he could stand, I had him thrown out, and fed-up, I went to get my things at leave.

That's when I realized my phone had actually been off for the whole shift. So I turned it on, and then waited to see if there were any texts, and I realized to my relief and delight that Brad had actually left me about half a dozen.

Brad: Hey, Jess. Would you like to go see a movie tomorrow night, and then maybe get some dinner?

Brad: You can pick the movie.

Brad: Just let me know.

Brad: Hey, is everything all right?

Brad: Or is your phone just off?

Brad: Well, anyway, call me when you get this. Or just text me. Even if it's late.

I beamed. He still wanted me. Of course he did! I knew I should never have doubted him. And now I didn't even have to wait and seem like I wasn't so eager myself because I'd already made him wait.

Jess: Do you care about the movie, or are you just eager for a rematch in the bedroom?

He replied almost right away.

Brad: We can do a rematch if you promise not to kick me in the balls again.

I smiled.

Jess: No kicks this time. I promise.

Brad: Then you have yourself a deal, missy. Do you still want to do dinner and the movie?

Jess: Sure, but why don't we make it interesting. Why don't you come over early, and we'll have our wrestling match before our date. I'll have the apartment all to myself again, so maybe we can order in and watch something on Netflix. But let's make it interesting. The winner chooses dinner and the movie. And the loser spends the night in handcuffs.

Brad: Sounds like you have our date all planned out already. ;)

Jess: Maybe I do ;)

Brad: Should I be concerned?

Jess: Only if you lose. :p

Brad: Oh, I won't lose this time.

Jess: You'd better hope you don't. ;)

Brad: Winner gets to demand sexual favors too, right? Just like last time?

Jess: Of course! If you win, I'll be yours to do whatever you want with all night! ;)

Brad: What if I want your hands from for some of that?

Jess: I guess that's your choice, Brad. But there are an awful lot of wonderful things I could do to you using just my mouth.

Brad: Okay, stop it, you're making me hard.

Jess: You could make me use my mouth on you all night. Is that something you think you'd like, Brad? Me on my knees, pleasing you with my mouth?

Brad: God, yes.

Jess: Well then, it's up to you. But you know I can get a little naughty when my hands are free and your balls are right there. You remember what happened last time.

Brad: You make two really good points.

Brad: If I didn't know better, I'd say it sounds like you don't even want to win.

Jess: Maybe I don't. ;)

Brad: Hmmm... I still don't know quite what to make of you, Jess.

Jess: Good. Let's keep it that way for now.

Brad: Well, it's late. I should sleep if I don't want to be a vegetable at school tomorrow. Good night, Jess.

Jess: Good night, Brad. xo

****

The next night, Brad came straight over after class, and I was ready to entertain him for the night. I stripped down for the occasion, and put on my favorite black sports bikini, and evaluated myself in the mirror. I liked this one because of the playful design. It offered all the support I needed up top, bit still showed a little cleavage in the criss-cross top of the bra. Perfect for distracting my horny boy-toy. The bottoms were very low cut, and I figured Brad would have a hard time concentrating tonight seeing it. And a very hard time saying no to me. Of course, I was going to make it very hard for him to say no to me in other ways, too.

Brad showed up in a muscle shirt and track pants. Typical Brad attire, I thought. But he did look really hot. From the look on Brad's face when I answered the door, he hadn't been expecting me to be dressed like this.

I struck sultry pose.

"Hello Brad," I said. "Are you going to come in, or are you just going to stand in the doorway and stare at me?"

"If I come in, can I still stare at you?" he said cracking a smile.

"Oh, I think you can do a great deal more than that," I said

Brad came in and closed the door behind him, and I learned back against the back of the couch with my hands behind my back. I tilted my head sideways and bit my lip and looked at him.

Brad put down his gym bag and came up to me and kissed me. I couldn't help but kiss him back, letting my lips dance on his. His hands began to explore my body-my breasts and my bare stomach. I had to take my hands from behind me and grab him by the wrists and pull away to calm down.

I took a few deep breaths. So did he. I felt so ready for him right now, and from the looks of the growing bulge in his track pants, so did he.

"Not so fast, Brad. We have a score to settle first."

"I know, I know," he said. "You just look so hot though."

"I know," I smiled. "So do you, but you don't see me losing control."

"That's really not the same. I didn't expect you to answer the door in a bikini."

"I know," I smiled. "I wanted to surprise you. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, of course! I really like it," he said.

He tried to touch me again and I smacked his hand away.

"First things first, Brad. We've got a score to settle."

"Do we really have to do that first?"

I looked at the bulge in his pants again, then back up at him.

"Something tells me that we do. Let's just say that right now you seem to have a lot of extra motivation to win. And I think you're going to need it."

"Oh, am I?"

"Uh-huh."

I turned and retrieved the pair of handcuffs I'd left on the couch behind me, and then dangled them on one finger by the chain.

"Let's make this interesting, shall we?" I said.

"You've made it pretty interesting already," he said, unable to take his eyes off my body.

I smiled. "Whoever manages to handcuff the other person first wins. You can do this by any means necessary, but you don't necessarily have to pin me for ten seconds. You just have to get my hands cuffed."

"This is going to be over pretty fast then," he said. "Who starts with the handcuffs? You?"

"If you want. We can also each start with a hand on one cuff."

"Okay," he said. "And you remember, you said no kicking, right?"

"No kicking," I said with a smile. "No striking of any kind. Just my strength against yours."

"You really do want to lose don't you?" he said.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well I'm far stronger than you are. I weigh twice what you weigh. How do you expect to win?"

"You'll have to try me and see. You don't think I can?"

"No, I don't."

"Okay, mister smarty pants. Then why don't we make this even more interesting. In addition to the winner getting to chose the movie, having to pay for dinner, and be handcuffed all night, the winner also gets to decide what the loser eats, and the loser has to sleep in the handcuffs until tomorrow morning, and doesn't get any orgasms at all, all night, no matter how much he or she begs."

"Fine," he sneered, "but you're going to regret agreeing to that," he said.

One of us certainly is, I thought.

"Okay, but you're a bit overdressed for this."

"Am I now?"

"Uh-huh. Lose the shirt."

He doffed his muscle shirt, revealing his exquisite chiseled muscular chest. For a moment I got lost in the sigh of it, and then realized that maybe getting him to lose his top would be a distraction for me. Sexy torso distraction was a two-way street, after all. I needed a real advantage.

"Lose the shoes and pants too," I said.

He eyed my suspiciously.

"Why do you need me to take off my pants?" he asked.

Because I need easy access to your balls for this to work, I thought.

"Look at what I'm wearing," I said.

Of course I didn't need to tell him to look; he was already staring.

"Fair enough," he said, and pulled off shoes, socks, and then his pants.

Now he was in nothing but his briefs.

Perfect, I thought. Now this match truly would be brief, so to speak.

"Ready?" I said, dangling the cuffs enticingly.

"Ready," he said, and then reached for the cuffs.

"On three," I said.

"One... two... three..."

Brad immediately yanked the handcuffs hard towards himself, trying to grab me in the process. I tried to hold onto the cuffs with both hands, but he was just so powerful. And if he pulled me in completely, and if he caught both my hands there, I was finished. And we couldn't have that. I had every intention of having numerous orgasms tonight, so for now, I needed to be smart if I wanted to win.

So as he pulled toward himself, I squealed as though I was desperately trying to match his strength, and losing. Of course, I knew I couldn't really win a match of raw strength, and what I was really doing was trying to wait for the right moment to simply let go and try to throw him off balance.

I let go of the cuffs, and to my chagrin, he just pulled them into one hand without losing any balance at all. That was no problem, I thought, since it now meant that I'd be on the pure defensive, and he'd be trying to think of how to force both of my hands into those cuffs with one hand.

Then he came at me, and quickly, I found him easily taking control of my body like some kind of rag doll. But I had one final move. He pinned one hand with his one free hand, and then tried to adjust the cuffs in the other hand to a position from which he could close the cuff on me. But I had one free hand, and his balls were right there, unprotected. So I grabbed them and squeezed hard.

"Ow, ow, ow," he said, letting go of my other hand so he could try to pry his balls free.

But my hand just squeezed harder.

"Hey you said you wouldn't..."

"I said no strikes of any kind. I never said anything about squeezing."

"Ow, ow, ow, okay, let go. Please. Wait."

"Why should I let go?" I said.

"It's not like you can cuff me like this anyway," he said.

"I can squeeze far harder than this, Brad. And I will, too. Unless you handcuff yourself."

"Not likely," he said.

So I squeezed hard.

"Ow! Oh god, okay. Stop, stop, stop."

"Are you going to do as you're told then?"

"Okay," he whimpered. "Okay."

"Handcuffs on, Brad."

He closed one around his first wrist, and then went to lock the second.

"Behind, Brad. I want your hands locked behind you tonight."

Brad reluctantly put his hands behind his back, and then locked the other cuff.

"You can let go of me now," he said.

"Hold on," I said, and reached around behind him to make sure they were good and tight, and that he couldn't get out. Then, finally, I gave his balls another playful squeeze, eliciting a yelp before I let him go.

Then I stood up and ran my fingers along his delicious, muscular chest.

"Mmm," I purred. "I'm going to have some fun with you tonight."

"You cheated," he said. "Again."

"You're only saying that because I won again," I said. "Who's to say you're not the one cheating, Brad? Look at the size difference between us. How else am I supposed to beat you?"

"That's not the point," he grumbled. "You tricked me."

"And you fell for it. Again," I said, lowering my hand to rub at the throbbing cock that bulged in his underwear. "And now you're all mine."

"Oh," he moaned, when my hand reached his cock.

"Don't worry," I said. "It won't be all bad. You just won't get to cum, that's all."

"God, were you serious about that?"

"Absolutely," I said.

"God. God damn it. Why did I agree to this?"

"Because you were thinking with this," I said, rubbing his cock. Then I grabbed his balls and gave them a playful squeeze. "And these. But don't beat yourself up about it. That's my job tonight."

"Jess," he gasped. "Jess, please."

"Please what?"

"Please go easy on my balls tonight?"

"I can't promise anything," I said, and pulled down his underwear roughly, and lowered them to the ground. He gasped fearfully.

I stayed there on my knees, and looked up at him with mischief in my eyes. I grabbed his naked balls in my hand, and then played with them like a pair of Baoding balls. He looked down at me apprehensively. But his cock was halfway hard already.

"Ooo, what have we here?" I said, and then I stroked it with my other hand. His cock began to grow even bigger and stiffer immediately. I leaned in close, my lips just centimeters from the tip of his cock. "You can't come tonight. But maybe..." I whispered, and then took his glans into my mouth, and sucked it slowly and sensually.

"Oh," he moaned, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back, his hands tugging at the chain locking his hands behind his back, making a metallic clack sound.

"That doesn't mean I don't still want you to enjoy yourself."

I sucked his cock while stroking with one hand and fondling his balls with the other. He made the most delightful whimpering noises while I did so. I looked up at him. He was flexing his muscles and chest, perhaps involuntarily. Staring at him like that, seeing him so strong and yet so vulnerable, made my pussy so very wet down below. My pussy ached for his cock. But I didn't want to risk letting him cum. In fact, I thought. I should stop. That's enough.

[End of Sample]

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###

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