I do also have a BB story from LA. I lived in LA for 2.5 years--in Hollywood, which was seedy and cheesy and kind of amazing. I didn't love LA--I'm just not a car person, and so much time in LA is spent in your car--but one thing I will forever love about LA is that it was there, at the tender age of 27 or 28, when I finally met a woman freaky enough to tell about my bb fetish. She was one of those immigrants of which you speak, from China, doing her graduate studies at USC (booooooo). She was very into biking and running and had insanely powerful, toned legs and thick thighs.
She was a heavy drinker, and at the time I was too (these days, just a bit over a decade later, I can't have more than one drink without getting a crippling hangover the next day). She drank gin, straight up with no mixers. If there was good gin available she'd drink that, if not, she'd drink the cheapest piss gin in the world without batting an eye. One night we were drinking the latter (I was diluting mine with tonic, she was just having hers with a tiny bit of ice). We had slept together a couple of times, but for both of us it had been a little reserved. As with other girls in the past, I had sort of rubbed by balls on her thigh when we were making out and tried to get her into it, but without actually saying what I wanted, she wasn't reading me.
As we drank more, we started talking about sex. She revealed that she was a "switch," and I was intrigued, as I was not super-familiar with the concept. "Well," she said, "it's like I'm both S and M. Like, I would love it if you tied me up, beat me--I mean REALLY beat me, degraded me, spit on me--that all makes me crazy." I will admit that I do have a dominant side and will occasionally do some spanking and light bondage, but I knew I couldn't give her what she really wanted it that department. "What about your S side?" I inquired. "I don't have as much experience with that, but I had one boyfriend who liked it when I'd slap him across the face. He even once had me put out a cigarette on his arm. I got super turned on!"
"Have you ever kicked a guy in the balls?" I asked sheepishly.
"No, but I kind of want to!"
Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the fact that she was just so obviously freaky. Hell, it was definitely both those things, but at that point I finally spoke the words I had been waiting to speak to every girl I had ever been intimate with in the past 15 years, from my first kiss to my first fuck to my first real girlfriend and to all the others, but had always been too s
hy: "would you...kick or knee me in the balls?"
Her eyes lit up--"yes! Oh my god can I do that?!" We were lying on the couch, and she leaned over and put her drink down. She was wearing tight grey leggings that accentuated her perfect ass and legs and a tight turquoise top, and I was wearing thin basketball shorts. She jammed her knee up into my crotch, then pulled her leg back and swung it forward, hitting my sack and making me grunt. Pleased with her result, she pulled her leg back further and slammed her knee towards me hard, but she missed and hit my thigh, which hurt but not in the way we both wanted. "Hmm, let's try it standing up, okay?" I nodded.
We stood up and faced each other. In an attempt to catch me off guard, she quickly rocketed her knee up, but the alcohol made her miss and she lost her balance and fell down. I helped her up, and we both giggled. I had her place her hands on my shoulders, which made me incredibly aroused--for whatever reason, the hands on the shoulders has always been part of the fantasy. She looked me in the eye, stepped back, and brought her knee up, but I got scared and jumped back at the last second so she missed. "Dammit!" We both laughed and I apologized. "What about a kick?" I suggested. She nodded. She took a step back and told me to remove my shorts. I did and spread my legs wide to make the target easier. "Are you ready?" she asked. I gulped and replied yes. "Okay...you fucking asshole!" As she yelled that out she bit her lip and scrunched up her face, then kicked out between my legs. I didn't see the kick, just a flash of gray a split second before I suddenly felt the impact of her shin crushing my left nut. My feet lifted from the ground and I collapsed on the floor, and immediately started writhing and moaning as tidal waves of pain flowed out of my groin and into my stomach. "Did you like that? Huh?" she asked. I nodded. "You know," she laughed, "that wasn't a hard kick from me at all. I can kick you so much harder. I can break your ball if you piss me off."
Yes, she said "ball." Her English was quite good, but she sometimes messed up plurals, and would continue to do so with "ball." For some reason, there was something hot about her saying "I'm gonna knee you in the ball" -- like she was deliberating targeting one of them for maximum pain.
I was in too much agony to respond--I couldn't imagine a kick any harder than the one she just gave me, the very thought of ever being in more pain nearly brought me to tears. I eventually recovered and we had sex that was by far better than any we had had before with each other--for me personally, it was probably the best in my life up to that point, since it was the first time I had ever gotten to experience the thing that aroused me the most. For the next few days, I would periodically get an uncontrollable erection when she'd pop into my mind, which was often. I even had to go hide in the bathroom during one of my martial arts classes because I couldn't stop thinking about that kick she had given me.
We dated a few more months. I don't think she ever kicked me that hard again, but she got a lot more accurate with the knees (which has always been my favorite form of bb). We stayed in touch a bit, and a couple of years later she said I should read 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami because there was a ball-kicking chapter (I've never read the book, but somebody posted that chapter on this forum years ago and admittedly, it's super hot). After her, I was comfortable enough to share my fetish with many other women, and life in that respect has been good. Haven't heard from her in years, probably never will again. But I think she's in LA so if you ever see a short, hot Chinese woman (she's probably in her late 30s now) with insanely muscular legs running around Echo Park Lake, be sure to say hello...
- Anonymous Contributor
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