The two blue eyed boys smiled at each other.
Tristan, the 19 year old skater with the dusty blond hair, looked down at Simon. At 6’3” he was a whole lot taller than his opponent. He was wearing baggy blue jeans that were hanging so low that waistband of his plaid boxer shorts was visible. His t-shirt had a bright orange colour, and there was a large, colourful drawing on the front side.
I pointed at it and grinned. “Another one from your collection?”
Tristan turned his head and smiled at me. “Yeah, do you like it?”
I chuckled.
The drawing consisted of a large banana, partly unpeeled, so that the tip was exposed, and two extra-large brown hen’s eggs. The eggs’ shells had visible cracks in them that ran all from the top right to the bottom. A plain writing underneath the intriguing ensemble read, “Skate. Don’t think about tomorrow. You won’t have children, anyway.”
I shrugged. “Where do you find those shirts?”
“I like it”, Simon chimed in.
The 23 year old geek boy with the horn-rimmed glasses was staring at Tristan’s shirt.
“It’s funny”, Simon added.
He was only 5’6”, and he was wearing another variation on his typical clothing: Black trousers and a pinstriped shirt with a black slipover. The collar and the sleeves of his shirt were neatly ironed, the black leather shoes were shiny and polished, and his dirty blond hair was tidily combed. Add to that his innocent smile, and you get the picture of a boy who couldn’t harm a fly. But the adventurous twinkle in his blue eyes promised more than innocence, as did the prominent bulge in his crotch that grew bigger the longer Simon stared at the drawing on Tristan’s t-shirt…
Tristan and I watched Simon and grinned.
It took a few seconds for Simon to realized he was being watched.
He cleared his throat, adjusted his crotch and grinned sheepishly.
“Ready when you are”, my cameraman Chad shouted from behind the camera.
Simon pointed at Tristan’s shirt and grinned. “Your eggs will look exactly like that once I’m finished with you.”
Tristan laughed. “Yeah, sure, my little pal.”
Simon shrugged and smiled. “You’ll see.”
“See these?” Tristan lifted his foot to show Simon his sneakers. “I’m gonna kick your balls in with them.”
Simon adjusted his crotch.
“Yeah, cop a feel of them as long as they’re still there”, Tristan grinned.
Simon licked his lips and smiled. “Wanna up the ante?”
Tristan raised his eyebrows.
Simon grinned and took off his slip over. “Well, what about this: Whoever makes his opponent cum first is the winner.” Simon took his shirt out of his trousers and began unbuttoning it. “And the loser has to eat his own load and the winner’s, too.” Simon threw his shirt away and ran his hand over his smooth, surprisingly well-defined abs.
Tristan looked at his shirtless opponent and grinned, “You’re in the mood for a double cum cocktail, huh?”
Simon shrugged. “I think you’ll be the one to get juiced.” He opened his shoes and took them off. His trousers followed suit. Now he was standing in front of Tristan wearing just skimpy black briefs and black socks. Judging from the tenting bulge in his briefs, Simon’s large dick was halfway to full glory.
Tristan chuckled. “Okay.” He shook Simon’s hand and grinned. “The game is on.” He took of his orange shirt, revealing his lanky upper body, his smooth abs and chest.
I nodded at Chad and walked behind the camera.
Tristan grabbed his nuts inside his loose, baggy pants.
Simon rolled his eyes. “Macho man?”
Tristan laughed and let go of his crotch.
Seizing his chance, Simon threw a powerful kick into Tristan’s groin. His socked foot connected with crotch seam of Tristan’s baggy pants. The heavy denim cushioned the blow and Tristan just grimaced a bit, but his balls were apparently relatively unhurt.
Simon frowned. “Take those jeans off. That’s unfair!”
Tristan chuckled. “Nobody said it was gonna be a fair fight, loser.”
Simon’s face turned red with anger and he started to protest, but he was interrupted by a well-aimed kick by Tristan. The skater boy’s sneaker-clad foot shot up and slammed into Simon’s groin, crunching his boner and his meaty balls inside the flimsy fabric.
Simon shrieked and grabbed his groin.
Tristan laughed. “Loser”, he repeated.
Simon was panting, doubled over in pain.
“Fuck”, he moaned and rubbed his aching testicles.
Tristan walked around Simon and reached into the back of his underwear, his hand searching forthe two delicate orbs in Simon’s sac.
Simon’s eyes widened with terror when Tristan grabbed his marbles and squeezed hard.
“No”, Simon croaked and tried in vain to pry Tristan’s hand away from his poor nuggets.
Tristan grinned and tightened his grip, squishing Simon’s plums with his skinny fingers.
The hapless geek boy screamed in pain.
Tristan twisted his hand, making Simon let out a miserable gasp. The skater boy smiled and let go.
Simon sank to the floor, moaning in pain and cupping his agonized nuts.
“Just testing the juice level”, Tristan smirked.
Simon chuckled weakly and cradled his manhood in his hands. The tip of his now fully hard dick peeped over the waistband of his briefs while Simon’s hand were deep inside his underwear, wrapped around his precious jewels. “I haven’t cum in a few days”, he whispered. “So there’s a lot of juice in there waiting for you to drink it.”
Tristan chuckled and shook his head. “Dream on, dreamer. I don’t see how—“
Out of nowhere, Simon lunged at Tristan and grabbed the waistband of his boxers and the waistband of his jeans at his hips. He yanked both of them down, exposing Tristan’s privates. The skater boy’s low-hanging testicles dangled below his semi-hard dick and his bush of pubic hair.
Tristan yelped in surprise.
Simon brought his head into his groin, his forehead connecting with Tristan’s balls.
Tristan grimaced in pain, brought his knees together and grabbed his groin. His jeans and boxers were hanging around his ankles.
Simon looked at Tristan’s crotch and grinned, “Eww, you’re in need of a shave, buddy…”
Tristan moaned.
Simon reached out to his groin and grabbed a few pubic hairs with his thumb and forefinger. He looked up at Tristan’s face, smiled innocently, and pulled hard.
Tristan screamed from the top of his lungs. “Fuck! You bastard! Owww, fuck!”
Simon took a close look at the little bush of hair in his hand. “Eww”, he grimaced, shuddered and let the hair fall to the ground.
Tristan had tears in his eyes. “Fuck”, he moaned.
Simon shrugged. He was kneeling in front of the skater boy. He balled his fist and locked up at Tristan, who was standing doubled over, cupping his crotch with both of his hands, and moaning miserably.
“Sorry”, Simon smiled innocuously. Then he powered a vicious uppercut into Tristan’s hands, driving them into his crotch and smashing his balls.
Tristan shrieked and let go of his balls for a brief moment.
That was all Simon needed, and he punched Tristan’s dangling eggs alternately with both of his fists seven times in rapid succession. Left, right, left, right, left, right, left.
Tristan’s cheeks puffed and his eyes bulged. He let out a long, wheezing moan and collapsed on the floor. He curled up in a ball and moaned softly.
Simon chuckled and grabbed Tristan’s feet. He took off his sneakers, his jeans, and his boxers, so that Tristan was stark naked except for his socks now.
Grinning, Simon weighed one of Tristan’s sneakers in his hands. “Nike”, he said, only marginally impressed. “Weren’t you supposed to kick my balls in with them?”
Tristan groaned in pain.
Simon chuckled. “Oh, well”, he sighed. “Thank god I’m good at improvising…”
Tristan was lying on his side, his hands cupping his crotch.
Simon crawled over to him and kneeled behind him, looking at his ass.
“Ooooh”, he cooed, “what’s that?”
One of Tristan’s nuts had slipped between his legs and was now conveniently wedged between his thighs, sticking out beneath his ass cheeks.
Tristan ignored him, apparently he thought that Simon was bluffing.
He learned that Simon was not at all bluffing when the cute geek boy slammed Tristan’s shoe onto the poor, defenceless plum. The sole of his Nike connected with Tristan’s testicle with a deafening slap, followed by a dull thud when Simon followed up with a well-placed punch a split-second later.
Tristan’s scream started low but increased in pitch and volume as the pain grew inside his body.He writhed on the ground, cupping his nads and singing some ancient tribal chant in a perfect soprano voice.
Simon was kneeling nearby, watching, listening, and laughing his ass off. “God”, he giggled, “you’re a good singer! And I bet that voice is developable…”
Simon stood over Tristan and kicked his legs apart.
“No”, Tristan whined.
Simon rolled his eyes. “Come on, we had a deal…”
Tristan’s eyes widened. They were filled with tears. “No way.”
Simon sighed. Then his socked foot shot forward and kicked Tristan’s groin, smashing his hands into his balls, and eliciting a spontaneous da capo of “Farewell to the offspring” for soprano solo.The poor skater boy’s face was beet red. His dusty blond hair was wet with sweat and his eyes twitched.
Simon knelt between Tristan’s legs and pried his hands away from his balls. He licked his lips when he saw that Tristan’s cock was in – surprisingly – good condition, standing proudly between Tristan’s legs, and slapping against Tristan’s abs when Simon manipulated it, leaving a trace of precum on Tristan’s abs.
“Fuck”, Tristan moaned.
Simon nodded. “Yeah”, he grinned. He grabbed Tristan’s balls and kneaded them in his hand. “Come on”, he said softly.
“No way”, Tristan moaned, his teeth clenched. He was struggling against the shorter boy, but
Simon just straddled his chest and sat on his upper body, his knees immobilizing Tristan’s arms.
“Fucker!” Tristan shouted and tried to bite Simon’s ass, but he couldn’t reach it. He kicked his legs wildly, but Simon just responded by squeezing Tristan’s nuts harder, making him moan miserably and abandon all other thoughts…
Simon held Tristan’s juicy babymakers in his left hand. His right hand grabbed Tristan’s raging hard-on.
“Fuck!” Tristan shrieked. “Let go of my cock!”
Simon raised his eyebrows and squeezed Tristan’s nuts. “What?!”
Tristan screamed in pain. “Let go of my cock!”
Simon shrugged. “Okay. I’m gonna concentrate on your balls, then.” He balled his right fist and punched Tristan’s balls hard. Thwack!
Tristan whimpered. “No…”
Thwack!
“Please…”
Thwack! Thwack!
Tristan screamed from the top of his voice. His dick twitched and precum oozed out of its tip.
Simon grinned and kneaded Tristan’s plump nuts in his hand.
“No!” Tristan screamed, gathering all his strength to escape Simon’s vice-like grip, but Simon was too strong.
The cute geek boy squashed and squeezed Tristan’s hefty plums in his hands, ignoring Tristan’s pleads for mercy.
“Your cock is twitching”, Simon said cheerfully and punched Tristan’s nuts once again.
Tristan struggled and groaned.
“You’re close, loser”, Simon grinned and slammed his fist down onto Tristan’s plums, flattening the juicy orbs and making Tristan cough and groan.
Simon sighed, “Hurry up, man, we don’t have all day.” His fingers clamped around Tristan’s nuts again, and he squeezed the skater boy’s babymakers once more.
Tristan sobbed.
Simon sighed again and quickly changed his position. He got off of Tristan’s chest and in a swift motion turned the skater’s body upside down so that his fiery cock was pointing at his own mouth.
Tristan groaned, his body forced into a very unnatural and uncomfortable position. His right leg was being held at the ankle by Simon, his left leg was sprawled to the side. His balls were resting vulnerably above his raging boner that was throbbing and twitching violently.
Simon breathed heavily, holding the skater’s body weight in his hands. He lifted his knee and brought it in on Tristan’s balls.
Tristan screamed in pain.
Simon repeated the move once again, flattening Tristan’s balls between his bony kneecap and Tristan’s own crotch. He held his knee there and shifted his weight, squashing Tristan’s agonized balls even further.
Suddenly Tristan’s cock twitched and jets of hot, sticky cum rained down onto his face. Tristan screamed in pain and clenched his eyes and his mouth shut as his white juice poured down on him.
Simon grinned and treated Tristan to a final grind with his knee before he let go of Tristan’s ankle.
The poor skater boy collapsed on the ground and rolled up in a ball, his cock continuing to shoot loads of semen onto the ground.
“Don’t let it go to waste”, Simon grinned and collected some of Tristan’s cum in his right hand and brought it to his mouth. When Tristan’s mouth remained shut tightly, Simon’s left hand grabbed Tristan’s balls again and squeezed hard.
Tristan gasped and Simon’s fingers smeared Tristan’s cum on his own tongue.
The skater boy looked miserably.
“A deal is a deal”, Simon grinned and got his cock out of his briefs. It was rock hard and oozing precum. Simon jerked it and aimed it at Tristan’s face.
The skater boy looked like he was close to puking.
“Fuck”, Tristan whispered.
Simon moaned in pleasure as he watched Tristan’s pain-contorted, cum-smeared face. His large cock was throbbing and his juicy babymakers were dangling low in their sac.
Tristan’s eyes focussed on Simon’s nuts, and with all of the strength he had left, Tristan grabbed Simon’s balls, squeezed hard, and yanked them down with all the force he could muster.
Simon yelped, his eyes opened, as did the floodgates of his impressive schlong. Squirts and squirts of jizz landed on Tristan’s face, coating his nose, eyes, lips and cheeks with a generously measured second layer of fresh squeezed spunk.
Tristan and Simon groaned simultaneously, but for different reasons: Tristan was torn between the pain in his traumatized nuts and the anger at Simon for humiliating him in front of Chad’s camera, while Simon experienced the joys of orgasm and the agony of Tristan’s vice-like grip on his balls at the same time.
Tristan opened his eyes, his eyebrows and eye lashes covered in cum, and frowned at Simon. He quickly turned around and powered his heel into Simon’s spent testicles, ramming them into his body.
Simon’s eyes widened and he froze in pain. His cock continued spurting, jets of jizz landing on Tristan’s shins. His eyes twitched and he let out a long, miserable moan.
Tristan grinned maliciously and stomped Simon’s nuggets again.
Simon shrieked and his hands grabbed his agonized balls while his cock continued shooting load after load of creamy, white cum.
“Loser”, Tristan groaned and returned to nursing his own battered balls.
His body was covered all over in cum, his own juice mixing with Simon’s.
Finally, Simon’s monster stopped spitting cum, and he let out a wheezing, hoarse moan.
The two boys lay next to each other, rolling around on the ground and cupping their balls.
“Fuck”, Simon whimpered.
“Yeah”, Tristan groaned.
“I win”, Simon whimpered.
“Yeah”, Tristan groaned.
