The Box Of Surprise

Poca has always been a box of surprise – and remember this sentence, because I truly mean it in every sense of the word. What is passion without a little bit of pain to sweeten the joys.

It’s always been a kind of attraction between her and my balls and I say this without any erotic merits to it, so those of you unbuckling in anticipation for a vicarious gratification of this blog and a bottle of lube, you can put Sea Biscuit back.

After all, I’ve been knelt, kicked and heeled in the balls. I’ve also been unceremoniously kneed in the head, but those are events credited to accidents, because it happens to the best of us who choose not to wear helmets or crotch guards.

Then today, she gave me the biggest surprise. A whole fist full of it.

There I lay, with my bolster between my legs, casually commenting on the artistic nature of my pose, and then I don’t know if it’s how people manifest their agreement these days, but I it did not expect this, not even with my ninja quick reflexes.

She punched down on the bolster, right on the area where my balls lay in sheltered sanctuary under a useless cover of foam padding. I don’t remember what happened because I spent the next 2 minutes on the floor, in pain.

This was a punch that Mike Tyson would have been proud of. And as I crouched on the floor, my mind ran through a gamut of possibilities. Maybe there was a mosquito on the bolster? Maybe she had a cramp and her fist just happened to clench up into a punch? Maybe punching is the black in the mantra of foreplay?

It had to be so, because why else would anyone think punching someone else's balls to be totally and perfectly alright?

And when I finally caught my breath,


Me: “WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?!"

Poca: *still laughing* “I thought you wouldn’t feel it!”

Me: “YOU THREW A PUNCH AT MY BALLS AND YOU DIDN’T THINK I WOULD FEEL IT?!”

Poca: “There was a bolster!!”

As I said, she really is a box of surprise.