pussyenvyfetish:

Aren’t you glad you don’t have balls? You’re taking this so much better than Jim, he’s over there in the corner throwing up.

I see that little smile, you feel lucky to be female. It’s OK to feel good about your advantage, you don’t have to feel guilty.

pussyenvyfetish:

smgdarkfire:

Oh did I kick you right in the balls baby?*starts to finger herself* tell me how much it hurts!!…can I kick them again?

Guys are bigger and stronger than girls, that’s supposed to make up for the vulnerability of having balls.

So what happens if a girl is big and strong too? That means a guy’s advantage is gone. She’ll win every time, because guys have balls but she doesn’t.

pussyenvyfetish:

wackpics:

It’s unfair that we think it’s funny when a guy gets hit in the balls. It’s wrong to giggle at the stupid face a man makes when he’s just been kicked in his most sensitive area and it’s downright cruel to keep laughing at him when he struggles through the pain over the next several minutes.

It’s also very sexy. Keep laughing. An amused girl and a humiliated guy is my fetish sweet spot. Be unfair. Be wrong. Be cruel. It’s hot.

———-

Don’t get into an argument with this girl, especially if you’re a guy. She goes right for the balls.

“Aww, poor thing” she says, baby talk style, to her overprotective boyfriend. One kick to his nuts instantly shut him up and dropped him to his knees. She put her hands on the flat space of her own crotch in a mocking gesture. “Did that hurt?”

Aww! You poor baby. Do your balls hurt?

Not that I know what it feels like. Does it hurt up here in your belly? Do you feel the pain radiating up? I don’t, because I don’t have balls.

It’s so sad that you have to feel that pain. Don’t you wish you could be like me?

wackpics:

“Want a cupcake?”, Shayleen asked me. There was a tray of them on the porch table.

A cupcake wasn’t even in the top five list of things that I wanted in my mouth at the moment. That list was entirely made up of parts of Shayleen’s voluptuous body. Her form-fitting low-cut dress struggled to contain her breasts and it fought tightly for its life against her round hips and ski-slope backside. Shayleen caught me staring downward at least three times.

“Sure, I’ll take a cupcake,” I said. Can I eat it from between your big boobs, I thought to myself.

“Do you want one with crushed nuts?”

“Sure,” I said mindlessly. Then I looked at the tray. “I don’t see any with crushed nuts.”

“Oh,” Shaleen said, “the crushed nuts are right here.”

As if to punctuate the sentence, Shaleen punched me square in the balls and then time sorta stopped for me. Her thin arms and little girl fist don’t look like much, but against a man’s testicles, they feel like a battering ram that can bring down iron doors. The pain was a world-shaking thunderclap that boomed between my legs, reverberated up into my stomach and prodded at my brain with anxiety over the blow to my fragile parts. I gasped at an embarrassing high pitch, sat up stiffly, clutched myself and felt tears form in my eyes. 

Shaleen giggled and relaxed in her chair. She took a bite of a cupcake.

Mean girl.