Summer morning, or Kick in the balls

It was a hot summer morning. The sun blazed in the garden, jumping with its bunnies on the leaves of apple trees, which should soon bear fruit. The nightingales sang in a flood, and a light wind leaned one of the branches of the apple tree against the window of the house.

Our hero lives in this modest house. He has already woken up, opened the curtains and is now doing exercises. It's very ugly to spy on others, but I'm sure readers won't mind if I take advantage of this author's legal right to spy on my characters and show you my character in all its glory, because now is just the right time for this.

He is a tall 18-year-old with a lean build but moderately muscular. He's not a jock, not at all. But he shows that he is taking care of his health. He has cute brown eyes. I think readers will be pleased with the fact that he practices almost naked, in some boxers. This will help us get a better look at his body, including the part of him that everyone is interested in. He is well equipped, and the short, tight-fitting boxers emphasize this well. His weighty pouch nestled comfortably between two strong long legs. I think he enjoys looking at himself in the mirror during class, and for good reason. He is still watching, enjoying his body.

Now he is crouching, and we see his juicy elastic buttocks pulled together by the fabric of boxers. Now he is in a plank position, his whole body tense, he has a sculpted torso and strong arms; in the groin area, the same pouch (with jewelry) sticks out. But he stands in an interesting pose and stretches his back and press; in the people this pose is called "cancer", in which he looks especially good. Strong back, elastic young hot body.

And so he sat down on the sofa. So, a handsome 18-year-old boy was sitting in some tight boxers on a soft sofa, his legs apart; he was aroused from touching himself and, apparently, from his reflection in the mirror too. What he had between his legs looked impressive even through his boxers. Any girl would dream of sucking such a guy, and there would be enough guys.

Unexpectedly for me, he hit himself in the balls with his fist several times, his legs shuddered, his abs tightened, his breathing quickened. He stroked himself through the fabric of his boxers, then deftly pulled them off and tossed them aside. He took a pair of office rubber bands and bandaged his clean-shaven balls with them. Now they were securely fixed and could not avoid blows. His hand reached for the member, and he began to masturbate. With the other hand, he hit his balls.

He likes to beat himself on the testicles, and indeed, not only himself, but also other guys. He liked to feel the power over the guys when he held their balls in his fist and was ready to inflict the most hellish pain in their lives at any moment. This sense of power aroused him. Especially if he managed to saddle huge beefy guys in this way. And after he managed to capture the eggs of these jocks in his iron fist, all their strength was already useless, and they became helpless. He also did not mind when he was already held for the most precious thing. As his gonads constricted, he wondered how long he could last. Of course, such mockery of the testicles does not make any sense if you are not going to finish after this.

Each blow slammed his balls into his body, and it hurt him. Then he took each testicle in his hand and pressed his thumbs into his juicy balls. As the pressure increased, he felt more and more pain in his testicles, with every second it became more and more unbearable to endure it. He threw his head back in pain, clenched his teeth, and screwed his brown eyes shut as he breathed deeply. To drown out the pain, he began to masturbate again.

This cocktail of adrenaline and dopamine, of pain and pleasure, was to his taste. He moaned in pleasure.

The sun's rays made their way through the branches of trees and through the window fell on his body. Now he felt good.

He forgot about everything in the world. Now there was only him, and perhaps someone else he thought about, whom he longed for. But alas, the author cannot read the thoughts of the characters, it would be an invasion of personal space. So let's just keep looking.

He breathes deeply and heavily, moans continually escape from his chest, the sounds of jerking off filled the room flooded with summer sun. From time to time, our guy glanced at his reflection in the large mirror that stood in the room, and he definitely liked the way he looked in it. His moans became more frequent, all the muscles tensed: from his face to his chest and abs, to his buttocks and legs. His chest rose and fell much faster. His lips parted and greedily gasped for air, and his face was covered with a blush, he closed his brown eyes in pleasure

He picked up the pace, squeezing his balls harder. He was close to the end. When he passed the point of no return, he pulled his balls down and squeezed them as much as possible, making them almost flat. If not for the coming orgasm, his pain would have been a thousand times stronger. A loud moan escaped from his chest, mingled with the roar of an animal. His cock began to spew fountains of sperm, which had accumulated during the week of abstinence. It was one of the strongest orgasms he had ever experienced. After the climax, he relaxed, the sexual energy left him along with the sperm. He liked the idea that he had squeezed all the cum out of his balls. He cast his gaze out the window.

The birds sang in the garden, the leaves of the apple trees bathed in the sun's rays, they were enveloped by a cool summer breeze. And our guy was looking at it and enjoying the view from the window with a mysterious smile.

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Thanks for reading! Author - Mykola. [email protected]