Friday, February 17, 2006

A day in the life of my balls

My balls rose at 6am this morning. The air was cold, my balls were protected by a thin layer of sweat that had collected during the night. Unfortunately, I could also smell my balls clean through my sweats, so I knew that something had to be done. If I could smell them, so could others.

My shower was quick and brisk and woke my balls up in a hurry. However, the journey from the bathroom to my dressing area was cold and fraught with peril. It had made my balls shrivel, shrivel like an old man in line at a buffet. Shrivelled like a short man at a basketball game. Shrivelled like a fat girl who accidentally smelled my balls.

After my balls were cleaned and clothed, it was time to go to work. My balls often get sweaty when I work, I don't know why, they just do. I've tried talcum powder, didn't help. I've tried wrapping flannel rags around my balls, yet they still sweat. I've tried dessicant silica packets in an attempt to stave off the wetness, but no matter what I do, my balls persevere in their persistence to perspire.

After lunch my balls often take a nap. During this period of rest, it doesn't matter how much activity I engage in, or how humid it gets in my shorts, my balls refuse to sweat. They call it "our time".

Once my balls have rested, they spend at least 30 minutes taunting me, and sometimes it's not just me, on very rare occasions I catch my balls making crank calls. Once I even caught them calling The White House. When I inquired as to their motives, they informed me that my penis was on vacation and they just wanted to talk to a bunch of dicks.

I'm not quite sure what to do about my balls. They sweat whenever they like, wherever they like, in fact they're sweating right now. I'd put the smack down on them, but then I would cum blood, and trust me, once is enough.

After supper, my balls like to rest in a pool of brandy. Their libatiousness aside, the liquid both burns and soothes simultaneously, and to this, I attribute my balls' youthful appearance.

But for all the trouble, for all the sweating, I cherish my balls. But sometimes I feel as though I have learned just as much from them as they have learned from me.

Tomorrow my balls and I will write a letter together to the Christian Children's Fund. My balls have expressed interest in sponsoring a child. For merely 80 cents a day, my balls can change a child's life. That's less than a bottle of talcum powder. How wonderful are my balls?

Eggleston? Roundfellow? Where for art thou, crotch potatoes?

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Night of the living balls.

The night was cold. Cold, like the frigid fingers of the witch who grabbed my balls. It was my 18th year of life and my balls were coming into their own. They ceased to be merely testes, nay, they emerged as the source of all my power. I was apprenticing with a nude massage therapist, when the subject of my endeavors noticed the steam coming off my recently enlarged balls.

"What scents from yonder crotch doth break? Truly it is the sun, and your balls are the East and West."

"For sooth, it is so. Verily, my balls do smite thee with their pungent aroma."

That's all it took. She could see that my balls knew their business. She was enraptured, trapped by the sweaty lure of my hardened man meat. But my balls were too sweaty. As the sweat began to drip down my leg, I became nervous. I worried what she would think about my overly sweaty balls. I begged them to stop. (Editor's note-this was before I knew the names of my balls. And therefore, was unable to address each directly.)

Luckily, my fears were unfounded. With a quickness that belied her advanced age, my gank patron reached out with an octogenarian claw, intent on making my manhood her own. Oddly, the only thing going through my mind was, "I wonder if she has her teeth in". I quickly found out she didn't.

This was my first acquaintance with the soothing pleasure of a toothless mouth. My balls danced like glass floats upon the water. Bouncing to and fro, ricocheting off her gums, until finally I exploded...but not in the way she intended. I had become so concerned with my balls that I'd overlooked my ass.

Without warning, a dark cloud radiated from my ass at the speed of sound. I tried to contain it, but my ass was having none of it. Shamed, I tore my balls from the elderly woman's mouth and ran sobbing from the room. To this day, this episode still haunts me, and I don't believe my balls have ever forgiven me.

Sometimes, late at night, I caress my balls and beg their forgiveness. I try to sweet talk them and make promises I know I can never keep. Sometimes I wonder if they may be on to me, but I suspect it's just the sweat. The sweat from my balls. My sweaty, scary balls.


Thursday, July 07, 2005

The Sweatiest Day of my Balls' Life

Today was a great day for my balls. I obtained an item through perfectly legal means that excited me to such a state that my balls began to sweat as never before. At first, it was just moist as I began using my new piece of gear. But then, as I got into it, I could feel large packets of moisture collecting under my balls, and I knew what was going to happen next. Suddenly I felt little tiny explosions inside my pants and I noticed the area around my groin becoming wet. I pulled down my pants to see what was happening. The sweat was shooting off my balls like shrapnel from a hand grenade radiating from every direction soaking whatever was in its path! My ball sweat was like acid, dissolving metal on contact! I thought about jerking off, but I was afraid of what might happen. I feared the combination of my ball sweat and spunk. It could cause irreparable harm to my surroundings. I fetched a bucket and a miniature squeegy and attempted to get as much sweat off my balls as I could. When the bucket was half full I took it to the garden and watered my Faith roses. Then I farted, and I bent down to smell it. And my balls began to sweat again. It's been a long day.

Slippery When Wet

It was hot today, and I anticipated a day of heavy sweating. I was awakened this morning by the disturbing sound of my balls sweating. You may laugh, but it's true. I can actually hear my balls sweating. It sounds like a soft hiss. Like the wind blowing from the cornfields. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I'm pretty sure I can hear my balls sweat. When I woke up this morning, I considered putting on two pairs of underwear to better catch the sweat I knew would be running off my balls. After my midday workout, I sat down with my legs spread. I knew from the smell my balls had done their work. When I thought no one was looking, I wafted my own scent to my nose, sucked it in slowly, and held it like a child holds a candy bar. It didn't help that my ass was in full rebellion and was giving off stink bombs left and right. Of course, that doesn't phase my balls. They still sweat.

My girlfriend is laughing at me now, but she won't be laughing when I stick my sweaty balls in her face. She thinks I'm kidding, but she should know from past experience that I mean what I say. Sometimes just to teach her a lesson, I pull out my tumescent member and flog her repeatedly about the head and face. If I'm in a particularly foul mood, I do my best to force it into her ear. She complains and screams, but I know she loves it. It hurts my penis to beat her so, but if my balls are especially sweaty that day, I take some consolation in the fact that as she's being beaten with my hardened johnson, the smell from my balls permeates her every orifice.

My balls kind of itch. I think perhaps the dried sweat is beginning to flake off and make them itch. I'm going to wack my girlfriend with my smelly penis and balls.

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

A Day At the Park

Yesterday was the 4th of July. A most venerated and sacred date to Americans, July 4th marks the beginning of our country and recalls the brave sacrifice of so many who died to protect our freedom. As a tribute to those fallen heroes, I decided to go on a picnic. My woman and I drove to a nearby park. We found a secluded area near a rose garden. The sun was shining as we laid out our blanket beneath a 30 foot fir tree. The shade of the tree protected us from the midday sun. We talked, we drank wine together, I read, while she took photographs of flowers. Birds chirped as the squirrels performed an acrobatic show.

After my luncheon, I was most content to lay on the blanket reading a book aptly titled "1776". As the afternoon wore on, the sun drifted lazily across the sky. It wasn't long before I felt its warm embrace on the backs of my bare feet. It was about this time that my balls began to sweat. As the sun slowly crept up my leg, I could feel wet rivulets of sweat running down my balls. Soon I noticed it wasn't just my balls that were sweating, it was also my ass. As the sweat from my ass and balls mixed in a pool just beneath my penis, I slowly rolled over stretching my legs apart in hopes that a cool breeze would provide relief to my sweaty balls. Alas, no breeze could quell the sweat on my balls.

That was 7 hours ago. While the overall temperature in my pants has gone down, my balls have never truly stopped sweating. I think I need a shower.

Monday, July 04, 2005

The Birth of My Balls

Welcome to my sweaty balls. At first, my sweaty balls may seem strange to you. But as time goes on, I feel you will come to love my sweaty balls. My sweaty balls may be offensive, and they may leave a bad taste in your mouth, but you will suck on them.