Busting Gamba's balls

[Brendah Moore]

I told you in my last post about how I discovered ballbusting and how I began my career with John. My next victim was Gamba.

It was a year after John finally left before I met Gamba. He was in his early 20s and a professional dancer. That meant he was fit and had lots of energy, which are good things to have. He was also hung like a buffalo with big balls and a thick prick, which I also consider good. On the other hand, his work kept him occupied a lot in the evenings and he had to travel. Not good things. Unlike all the other men I’ve known, Gamba liked to go commando. He had to wear one of those dancer’s belts when he was rehearsing and dancing in order to prevent strains and damage. He found them so tight and restricting that when he was away from his work he liked to let it all hang free.

It was on our third date that he invited me back to his flat. I warned him that if I came with him, I’d break his balls. He just said “Let’s go”. On the way, I made it clear that ballbusting got me aroused, so I expected him to be able to perform afterwards. He told me not to worry. After all, he said, it wouldn’t affect his fingers or tongue. I liked his attitude.

After so long with John, I considered myself an expert. I didn’t realise that my experience was limited. With him I had got just one chance, so I had to strike hard and fast. I just assumed it was always like that. I should have realised that all men weren’t the same. When we got back to Gamba’s flat, we wasted no time stripping each other off. Then, as he came towards me with his cock waving in the breeze, I floored him with my first shot. This magnificent male specimen collapsed in agony at my feet and lay curled up in a ball. When he was able to talk, he explained that one killer kick did nothing for him; it just caused him a lot of pain. He doubled over again just to make the point. After that, he taught me to play his nuts like a musical instrument. Each separate movement was as important as the finale. What he needed was a slow built up. He liked to do everything to the peak of intensity. That’s how he danced, that’s how he fucked and that’s how he liked me to bust him. He wanted the pain to vary from blow to blow, slowly accumulating to a crescendo when he could take it no longer. By the time I delivered the final crunch that dropped him to the floor he always had a rock hard erection. He taught me how to achieve this for him and, best of all, I discovered that his punishment intensified my arousal. I really got off knowing how much pain this guy could take. It was proof of the power and strength that he would use on me later. Fortunately, he was able to recover amazingly quickly to service me afterwards, but the combined experience of ballbusting and sex always left him drained. There were no encores with Gamba.

I always started with hand moves. They’re not my favourite, but they were safest until he stiffened up. With a cock his size, I had to take care not to hit it – I certainly didn’t want to put it out of action. Fortunately, he would soon go hard, which kept it out of the way. I would slap, squeeze and punch him. The move I enjoyed most was the cracker - one ball in each hand, squeeze hard and pull in opposite directions like pulling a Christmas cracker. That was very effective at getting him to attention. Kneading was fun as well – rolling his balls in my hand like kneading bread. On the backward stroke, just press hard with the palm; on the forward stroke, apply the pressure onto the heel of the hand. The varying pressure and the movement of the balls always made him moan.

I much preferred the knee moves. They’re my specialty. Best of all I liked crushing his balls with a sharp blow with the knee and then grinding hard and feeling the nuts cracking against his pelvic bone. But Gamba’s favourite finishing move was when I scrambled his eggs. I found it exhausting, but we girls have to make sacrifices. It was a series of knee blows gradually delivered faster and with increasing power. This really built up the pain, but it required a lot of judgment about how hard to hit and for me it was a bit like doing a gym exercise standing on one leg. It did the business for Gamba though.

So what happened to Gamba? Well he wanted to move on and I didn’t try to stop him. In many ways, he was better for me than John. He was the better lover and busting him gave me a much greater thrill. The problem was that I wasn’t in love with him. Need I say more?

Since Gamba, I haven’t been in a long-term ballbusting relationship. Guys generally can’t take it; a gentle bang on the balls is enough to have the typical guy running for cover with his hands over his crotch. That left me to choose between getting sex and having the spice of cracking some nuts. It was no contest. I always played as rough as I could, but seldom got the chance to do what I desperately wanted to do. Needless to say, all these encounters were less than satisfactory from my point of view. None lasted more than a few months. I devoted the time to developing my career at work and to researching real ballbusting and cbusting stories. I’ve made some contacts who have fed me really good stories. I’ve written up a few. They’re fictionalised but all based on fact. One day, I plan to put them on the web.

I hope things are about to change. I’ve met a guy and we’re getting together. With luck I won’t frighten him off. I’ll keep you posted.

[Adam R]

Wow, you are talented at expressing yourself. Hot post!

[balzac]

I love your posts, Brendah. Thanks for taking the time to write them up.

[Beaten13]

Great post! I hope you can keep them coming. Good luck with the new guy, he's a lucky man.

[Daniel A.]

Nice!

 

hope everything goes well with your new boyfriend...

 

I guess it is easier for us guys to get women interested in a ballbusting relationship than the other way around.