My Ballbusting Memoirs: Part 1 of 4

As a child growing up in England, I always saw somebody getting hit in the nuts as a funny thing, something to be laughed at. However, that all changed when, at age 10, my family moved from England to a city in central Florida which, as far as I can tell, is ball busting heaven.At first, I didn't realize this, because I was still a child, focusing more on the fact that I had no friends in America.

When I first went to middle school, I quickly got a small number of loyal friends. Not everybody liked me, and one kid downright hated me. Let's call him Toby. Me and Toby were rivals, and about halfway through 6th grade, we came to blows because he, in a fit of anger, yelled "F*** off back to England, Harry Potter" One beating later, we were both suspended and he had a black eye.

After a week was up, I went back to school and everything was normal, that is until lunch time. Toby had a girlfriend, who we'll call Natalie. Natalie was about 5 feet tall, had black hair, brown eyes, and a great body (for an eleven year old, that is). She was Colombian, so she had darker skin. That day, she was wearing a white and blue stripey shirt, tight jeans, and a pair or brand name sneakers. In lunch, my group of friends and Toby friends where both outside. Natalie came over and told me she wanted to tell me something in private. Once out of earshot of me friends, she asked me why I beat up her boyfriend. When I responded with "because he's the biggest J****** on the face of the planet", she was none too happy. She turned towards me, face contorted with rage, and brought the knee of her tight jeans right up into my crotch.

She stayed like that for what seemed like an hour, then brought her knees back down, looking horrified. She stammered "ohmygodi'msosorry" and, to this day i have no idea why she did this, she started rubbing my balls. She then told me she'd never done that before, asked if I was alright, and gave me a big hug. To tell the truth, it didn't even hurt that much, and since then, she's been super nice to me. I do fear, however, that kneeing me sent her down a path from which there was no return; ball busting. She started busting guys more and more, until by eighth grade, she'd busted every guy in the advanced program.

I, too, started to go down the same path, but more slowly. I didn't start actively seeking being busted until the year afterwords. By that time, I had gotten a girlfriends. For the purposes of this story, her name was Miranda. She was 5'2", had brown hair, brown eyes, and above-average breasts. She was also a bit of a floozy (a.k.a. slutty). One day, over at her house, (she was wearing a tank top and shorts that stopped halfway down the thigh) we were making out in her room, and I was thoroughly enjoying it. I enjoyed it so much, that I didn't hear her dad walking up the stairs. She heard him, though, and got me to stop kissing her the fast way. One second I'm making out with a hot girl (for a twelve year old, that is), and the next, I'm looking down at her bare leg leading from her thigh right to me groin.

Hearing her dad's footsteps about ten feet from the door, I new I hadn't the time to feel pain. I ninja'd my way out of her house, and back to mine. On Monday, she came up to me, apologized, and we made out for about a minute.

Those two experiences combined hot girls, groin pain, and great apologies that make up for the pain, and I was hooked on being busted for life. Next blog post, I'll tell you about the third and fourth time I was busted.

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