She Squeezes His Balls - Again
by Sunblind



The blond bartender leaned her absolutely impressive D-cups into the booth
where I was sitting and placed a drink, that I had not ordered, in front of
me.

In answer to my puzzled look, she smiled and with a subtle flick of her hair
indicated a woman sitting at the far end of the bar. I looked up, and the
woman, who was too far away in the dimly-lit hotel barroom for me to make out
any of her features, rose from her bar stool and made to come over to me.

It was a little after happy hour, on a Friday in February, and other than the
busty bartender, the woman and I were the only two people left in the bar. I
was staying the night after having visited some clients upstate and given the
nature of this small college town, I was pretty sure that I was the hotel's
only guest.

"Listen, mister," the bartender spoke quickly and quietly. "If you need any
help tonight, you're on your own ... I'm by myself here tonight ... and I
tried to intervene in one of her situations last week, and I ended up naked in
the ladies room ... she tied me up with my own pantyhose ... "

The bartender, who I realized must have been in her early twenties (probably a
college student from the town) stopped talking and retreated hastily to the
bar as the woman from across the bar arrived at my booth.

If the bartender had left me speechless, seeing Karen for the first time in
twenty years nearly rendered me comatose.

"Hello, Jay. I thought it was you," she smiled. "May I sit?"

"I don't know," I said, "I'm not sure I can lie down in this booth in such a
way that you'll have room."

She looked at me...confused.

"Karen the last time I saw you ... or should I say the last thing I saw of you
was your ass descending onto my face that night. All I'm saying is that I'm
not sure there's room in this booth for you to do that."

She looked hurt.

But then I smiled.

The tension broke and she actually gave a little sob as we broke into
laughter.

"I have wanted to say I'm sorry for a long time ... but you left for college
the next day and ... "

It was a Sunday night in August. I was seventeen years old and leaving for
college at Oxford the next morning. My next-door neighbor, a divorced mother
of one, named Laura had called and asked if I could possibly come over and
"sit" for her daughter while she ran over to her office for about an hour.

"Isn't Karen old enough to handle an hour," I asked, "After all, she's, what,
thirteen now?"

"Yeah, she's actually a little put off by it, but I'm just not ready ... it's
probably the overprotective-mother-of-one thing," she laughed.

I liked Laura ... a lot. She was a thirty-seven year old, divorced woman with
the biggest set of tits my seventeen year old eyes had ever seen. I can't say
for certain, but she was at least a G-cup, with a perfectly proportioned
athletic figure everywhere else.

"How is Karen? I feel like I haven't seen her all summer."

"She's fine. She was away at her father's ... .So ... can you help me out here
... "

When I arrived next door, two minutes later, Laura barely greeted me as she
rushed past me on her way out. "Karen's upstairs. I should tell you, she's a
little upset at me for calling you. I'll be back in about an hour. Karen knows
the number."

I sat down to watch tv.

After about five minutes, Karen sulked down the stairs into the den. I stood
up and turned to face her and nearly had a heart attack. The gangly little
brat from next door had, while she was away, grown up ... and out.

She was wearing a light blue bikini. It had subtle white stripes and pale
yellow flowers. Her tits were enormous (in relation to her frame), and she was
clearly gigantically pissed-off.

I stood there with my mouth open.

She gave a sort of sad smile and walked, wordlessly, over to me, never
breaking eye contact and reached into my gym shorts. I never even moved. I was
so taken aback by the outrageousness of her appearance that my brain had
temporarily gone off-line. From the time she'd crossed into my personal space
to the second her hand closed tightly around my balls, I took, maybe, a half
step back ... I was like a "deer in the headlights."

I was flat on my back before I knew what had hit me. She kneeled beside me,
her tits barely contained in her bathing bra. My hands were on her forearm,
and our eyes were locked.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but I have to show her I can take care of myself."

"Karen ... please," was all I could manage before the squeezing started in
earnest.

One thing I will say for her ... she had a plan. She worked quickly and
efficiently. She squeezed me unmercifully for about two minutes, after which I
was in such blinding pain that she could have lit me on fire and I could not
have moved. I lay there helplessly as she stripped me out of my gym shorts,
tee shirt and sandals.

Lying down next to me, she pulled me into a head scissors, burying my face
deep into her bikini covered crotch, and pressured my head and neck with her
coconut-cracking thighs for a good five minutes.

Then came the ball spanking. She sat on my stomach facing my feet and took my
penis in her left hand and pulled it up towards my stomach. This pulled my
balls into position. She then spent the next five minutes lightly slapping my
nuts with her open palmed right hand. I thought the squeezing was painful, but
it was nothing compared to this. Each randomly-timed slap (so I never knew
when the next one was coming), sent a jolt of pain all through my body.

It was during the ball-spanking that Karen started telling me how she had
learned all of this by surreptitiously watching her father brought to heel on
a nightly basis by his new wife. "You should see her ... tall and blond ...
her boobs are bigger than my mom's."

At the end of the ball spanking, Karen flipped around and faced me. "Speaking
of boobs," she said as she removed the bikini top. She reached down and
stroked my cheek. "I really am sorry," she said, as she leaned forward and
dropped her giant tits onto my face.

As I began to lose consciousness (again), I heard her speak. "When I left, I
was flat as a board ... but Mom told me I'd probably be coming home with some
boobs ... she started to develop during her thirteenth summer ... I'm just a
D-cup now, but I bet someday I'm as big as her ... "

For the next ten minutes, she viciously tit smothered me. She alternated
between her right breast, her left breast and her cleavage, changing positions
as I reached the brink of unconsciousness time and time again. At the last,
she kept me under her right boob until I went all the way out.

When I awoke from the tit smother, Karen was standing over me ... completely
naked. I must have been out for a while because in addition to removing her
bikini bottom, she had also taken the time to handcuff my hands behind my
back.

"I'll make you a deal. All summer I watched my dad's new wife ... at the end
of each session ... she'd sit on his face, you know, with her pussy (she
giggled) on his mouth ... and after a few minutes she'd be screaming ... it
looks like she was having a helluva good time ... I want that ... I'll give
you five minutes. If you can get me there ... maybe I'll get you some ice for
your balls."

I licked and sucked and tried to move my head around a bit ... but she was
only thirteen. After five minutes she was breathing heavy, but she just didn't
have the experience to make her own connection ... and, for my part ... I
certainly had no idea what the hell I was doing.

Rising from my face, Karen sighed. "Well that felt pretty good ... but not
screaming good. No ice for you. Sorry."

She walked around to my feet and picked up my ankles. She then placed her
right foot on top of my balls and crushed me under her full body weight for
the next five minutes or so. My brain had completely shut down, and all during
the ball stomping, the pain was so incomprehensible that all I could do was
quietly cry.

When she dropped my ankles, I just lay there. I barely registered that she had
sat her ass right onto my face and was adjusting herself to again cut off my
air supply. As I slipped into unconsciousness, I thought I saw headlights in
the driveway, and my last thought before sleep took me over was that Laura was
going to see me naked.

When I awoke, it was due to the coldness of my balls. As my eyes came open, it
took me a second to register that I was looking directly into Laura's
concerned eyes. She was kneeling to my left. It took me a minute to find my
voice and the first thing I said to my giant-busted neighbor was, "My balls
are cold."

Laura smiled lovingly. "I'm holding an ice pack on you. You're bruised and
swollen but you'll be okay. Do you think you can get up?"

She helped me to my feet. And then she helped me over to the couch. I sat back
and she kept the ice pack in position over my crotch. I was still naked,
though the handcuffs had been removed.

I stared straight ahead and said " I'm sorry. She took me by surprise. She
squeezed me a lot."

Laura responded "I know, baby, it's okay ... "

I interrupted her. "Laura, I'm sorry, but could you move the ice." I paused,
embarrassed to go on. "My balls were achy, but about a minute ago they started
to throb and now it's really starting to hurt." The pain had ramped up
considerably and my voice was getting desperate.

"It's okay, sweetie, I'll fix it ... Here lie down."

She rose from the couch and helped me to lie down on my back.

"After Karen knocked you out, she gave you a hand job. When you started to
come, she put you through another steady squeeze, which she maintained all
through your ejaculation. It's a technique some girls use. It's designed to
make a boy have to think about you every hour or so for the next day or two
after a date. Apparently her new step-mother taught it to her. For the next
few days, your balls are going to throb every hour ... The only way to relieve
the throbbing is to ejaculate again." Here she sighed deeply. "Hold still."

And without another word, she went down on me. Before I knew what was
happening, my massive mammaried neighbor had my entire shaft in her mouth and
down her throat. Up to that point in my life, I had never even had a woman
kiss my penis let alone swallow it whole. I came in seconds. Laura swallowed
every drop. By the time she came up for air, the throbbing had stopped and I
was breathing normally.

"How do you know she gave me a hand job?"

"She told me. When I walked into the room, she was sitting on the couch
waiting for me. You were unconscious on the floor over there. There was semen
all over your stomach. Little Miss Karen told me the story. I sent her to her
room and set about to helping you...Listen, you're going to have to masturbate
like twenty times over the next two days to relieve the throbbing when it
comes around again. It'll be so bad that it it'll wake you up. If you want to
stay over tonight, I'll use my mouth on you the first couple of times ... that
way it'll cut down on how raw and rubbed your penis is going to get.

Now there was an offer ... but, alas, I had an 8:00 am flight. I stayed at
Laura's until about midnight. True to her word, she expertly sucked me off
four times, though my penis was scraped raw by the time I boarded the flight,
which turned out to be quite a nightmare, the next morning.

Karen smiled as she eased into the booth opposite me.

"I cannot get over how much you look like your mother."

"Yeah. It's funny, I'm actually about how old my mom was when the "unfortunate
incident" occurred ... My tits, though, never got quite as big as hers. I
stopped at double F ... mom is actually a double G." Karen sat up very
straight and thrust out her chest.

I smiled and stared. We both burst into laughter again.

"Karen, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why is the bartender afraid of you?"

Karen rolled her eyes. "Oh that ... Look ... that night with you ... that had
a huge effect on my entire adult outlook."

"I own this place," she continued, "Last week, Marcy ... that's her name ...
got in between me and a gentleman. She thought I was treating him a little
roughly ... It was nothing."

"What happened?"

"We do all of our business during move-in week, homecoming, parents' weekend
and move-out week. The rest of the year, at any given time we might have ten
guests. Last week, the guy in question was our only guest and he was paying me
a lot of attention ... which I welcomed. It was last Friday. I had him in here
... Marcy was behind the bar and I decided to just take him ... I still
squeeze balls ... it's just how I get off ... some women suck cock ... I
squeeze balls ... Marcy intervened ... sometimes, not often, but sometimes ...
I squeeze tits. Marcy got her tits squeezed ... hard. She cried a lot but we
worked it all out. Although I did have to tie her up in the bathroom so I
could squeeze that guy in peace, I think she sort of liked the idea of having
a guy completely in her control ... who knows ... maybe her next date ... "

I looked her directly in the eye. "Am I going to be squeezed tonight?"

She smiled and gave a little shrug. "Yeah ... I'm gonna have to ... I mean how
many girls get to recreate their first ball squeezing, twenty years later ...
I'm sorry," she said with mock embarrassment, "but you can't expect me to pass
on an opportunity like this ... Don't worry, though," and here she giggled, "
I promise ... I'll suck your cock when you throb."

She looked at me hopefully. I shrugged and sighed.

Karen got up from the booth and I did likewise. Once we were standing, she
backed up to me, and standing a little off to my left, put her right hand down
the front of my pants. I don't know why, but it seemed the most natural thing
in the world for me to stand there, patiently, while she fished around and got
a good (backhand) grip.

Holding me firmly, but not squeezing, she walked me over to the bar, where, as
we were saying good night to Marcy, I felt Karen's forearm muscles begin to
flex. In seconds, I was hanging onto the bar to keep from collapsing. Though
clearly aware of my distress, neither woman wavered from the quiet
conversation they were having about the next day's menu.

By the time they finished talking, I was head down on the bar, struggling to
keep my feet.

"Hey," Karen said (to Marcy) as if the thought had just occurred to her, "Do
you want me to show you that technique that causes the throbbing?"

Marcy must have nodded or something because the next thing I knew Karen had
essentially lifted me by my balls onto the bar.

Karen began the lesson: "Unbuckle him and push his pants down around his
ankles ... Good, now take hold of him with your left hand ... put your right
hand on top of his penis and just hold it flat against his stomach for a
minute...I'm going to soften him up with a little tit smother ... "

As Karen unhooked her big white bra, she leaned down to my ear and whispered,
"Just think ... I bet there aren't that many men who can claim to have helped
two women with their first ball squeezing experience ... you should be very
proud."

And then she kissed me on the cheek and laid her big tits on top of my face.