Henry's bachelor party, Prologue 2, To the beach and back 1/2

I suggest you read "Henry's bachelor party, Prologue 1, High school era gathering" first; this is its continuation. While this might work alone, the story proceeds only in one direction. I had to cut this into parts because of Reddit's limits on post lengths.

Henry's bachelor party, Prologue 2, To the beach and back 1/2

Otherwise, the high school went how it usually does with teenage romances and certainly more drama than is necessary. I dated two girls in the span of high school, but both of those relationships ended shortly.
The first relationship lasted about a month in my first year in high school and didn't include anything worth mentioning. It was a typical teenage romance. The second one lasted almost three months at the end of my last year in high school and got far more interesting towards the end.

I still have vivid memories of my last high school romance, Hulda. She was also of Finnish lineage and had light brown hair. She was pretty short, but what she missed with his height, she gained with her attitude. Her mom was the only one who dared to oppose her. She had quite a bust, somewhere in the E-F section, and was otherwise quite athletic. She didn't have a six-pack but had visible muscles on her torso.
She didn't like team sports but cycled a lot. I assume she would have also jogged regularly if her jugs hadn't been so big. That combination usually results in constant back pain. She was a sweet girl when she was not angry. I saw her deal a few low blows to the boys that occasionally annoyed her but never kicked me. However, I might not have given her any reasons. She was so sweet and caring towards me that I thought she would never like to hurt me physically. And being shy, I never dared to talk about my fantasies about her havocking my sperm forges.

We had sex quite regularly and had some exhilarating moments trying to hide it from our parents. As I said, my parents were conservative and didn't believe in premarital intercourse. We were both quite open to trying things, and she was surprisingly kinky.
My fetishes and kinks are an entirely different subject. I haven't ever counted them, but they are numerous. Most of them are at least somewhat related to femdom or humiliation. Some of them I had discussed with Hulda and some I have kept secret. She might have got an inkling of a couple of things I liked but never got the nerve to tell her.

One day I remember particularly well was one around the beginning of August. It was a sunny Monday and about as warm as it could get near Lake Superior. The school had already ended, but we decided to stay unemployed for the remaining two weeks of our occupation in Michigan. I had got a place I wanted from the University of Tampa and was going to study cybersecurity. She, too, had gotten into the college she wanted, the School of Medicine at the University of Washington, Seattle. The end of our relationship was near, and we wanted to get the most out of our last days together.

We both had mountain bikes and were cycling to the nearby beach. Hulda, being even more kinky than usual, knowing our time was running out, had purposefully lifted her yoga pants and bent a bit forward to flash her camel toe to me as much as possible. I was pedalling behind her and enjoying the view.
We had discussed that I liked getting teased when not in a feasible position to release myself, and she had told me that she was an exhibitionist. That was like a bond made in heaven. A few times after that discussion, I had sat in a restaurant or a coffee shop rock-hard, blushing, trying to breathe steadily. That was usually a result of her leg sliding slowly back and forth along my shaft, sometimes stopping to rub my glans.

We were biking down a small hill when I thought I saw something in her pants. She maybe had a darker spot on her camel toe. I had been semi-hard for a while, and now I felt my cock stiffen. I started to pedal faster to get a bit closer to get a proper look. I was too focused on the fact that she might be wet that I wasn't watching the road ahead. My bike hit a big pothole, and I catapulted forward from the saddle. I hit my right side nut straight to that sharp corner of the cycle where the front fork and handlebar unite; I believe it's called a stem. I stayed on my bike barely, sitting on the top tube despite the excruciating pain pulsating in my injured nut. I steered my bike to the shoulder of the road and collapsed to the grass, my hands cupping my dangly bits.

Hulda turned to look back when she heard my screeching brakes and saw me curling up on the ground. She turned around, steered her bike to the shoulder, let it fall to the grass, and hurried to me. "What happened?" she demanded, crouching next to me. I noted that I had been correct about the wet spot. "Pothole... my ball," I managed to gasp between whimpers.
"You boys are so silly with your saggy parts. Wouldn't keeping your internal organs safely inside you be much more convenient? Look, nothing to worry about!" Hulda said, smacking her crotch with her fist. I started to blush from embarrassment, and the hit she gave her lady bits with the pussy envy talk caused a full hard-on to me. "My right nut is killing me," I complained while my face started to resemble fire-engine colours. Hulda tried to rub my back to ease the pain.
After a couple of minutes of me lying on the ground while Hulda had become more and more concerned about my testicular health, she insisted on verifying that every item was in its correct place in my junk. On the other hand, I was reluctant to let her do an examination, primarily because of the raging boner I had. I feared she might guess I was getting turned on by her watching my ball pain and humiliating my manhood. A few times back and forth about whether she should carry out a testicle examination, Hulda forcibly removed my hands from my crotch and, of course, immediately noticed my boner.
"I'm quite pleased that a silhouette of my beaver could make a nut-crush-resilient hard-on for you. But let's check your nuts." She said and slid her right hand into my sweatpants. "Oh, you have been enjoying our ride; you are oozing precum," she said as her hand travelled alongside the left side of my shaft.
I trembled as Hulda's hand travelled downwards on my crotch. I was in heaven and, simultaneously, scared that someone could drive past us.
Hulda took my left nut gently on his palm. "Which one did you hit? Is it this one?" Hulda asked as she applied a little force to my left nut. "No, the other one," I said and began to worry a bit about what was coming. The pressure did not feel bad on the healthy testicle, but how about when she'll squeeze the injured one?

"So, let's check the other one," Hulda said. She turned and lifted her leg over my head so that her crotch was right above my face, "It's much easier to tell left and right apart when I'm looking in the same direction with you." she said innocently. We both knew it was only an excuse to bring her leaky honeypot within reach of most of my senses, but I certainly wouldn't protest.
We were now in a position most widely known as sixty-nine among the people devoted to the matter. The wet silhouette of her labia was still evident while viewed from a whopping two inches away, and her knees were touching my shoulders. I was sure the moist spot in her crotch had almost doubled. She moved his hand to the right side of my erect cock, taking a detour up along my shaft, rubbing my little helmet inside her fist, and travelling back south, tickling the other side of my dick. I felt more precum leaking onto her hand and arm.
"Do you happen to have a ballbusting fetish?" She asked conversationally when her hand was enclosing my right, aching nut. I had severe difficulties making coherent decisions at that moment. A wet pussy, although in yoga pants, but moist pussy anyways, right in front of my eyes. Hulda's hand in my pants and nurturing my injured nut, her arm rubbing my cockhead and my mind in fear that she might tighten her grip at any time. She had made confessing my fetish easier by guessing it herself, but it was still challenging.

Suddenly a car speeded to our vision over the hilltop. Or mainly to Hulda's vision; my vision was constrained by her sporty ass and juicy pussy. I mostly heard the car pass us. She started to giggle uncontrollably, and her forehead fell against my frenulum. I saw the wet area in her pants conquer more land, and her boobs jiggled intriguingly.
"That guy got a good tavern tale." She said when she was able to speak again. "But, let's return to the matter at hand… literally." She started to roll my testicle around her palm and took her sweet time to palpate it thoroughly. It hurt a bit, but nothing too much. I was mostly enjoying it. "Your nuts are both intact, though the right one has already swollen," she reported.

"Back to the earlier topic," Hulda said, bringing her left hand around my left nut. "You almost managed to pulverize your sperm bank, and the next time I see your crotch, there's a tent even a drill sergeant would be proud of." It dawned on me that she was coming to the correct conclusion about the cause of my erection. "Therefore, I'm quite sure that you wouldn't mind if I, while already exploring your basement, would kick around some already cracked pebbles." she guessed.
She started pulsating her grip and applied more force with every pulse. It became instantly evident that my right side pebble had suffered more from the accident and felt cracked enough even without any kicking around. But I enjoyed the feeling on my left ball more than I detested the one on my right ball, at least for a moment.
Far too soon, my starboard side nut started screaming objections to its current situation. My breathing was intermittent, and the pain was horrible. I opened my mouth to let out a cry. But like she might have some divine gift to foresee the right moment, she smashed her camel toe against my mouth and nose. Her drenched beaver instantly overwhelmed most of my senses, and I was mostly, but not entirely, sure that my cock would explode before neither of my gonads would implode in her ever-strengthening grip.
The pain in my damaged nut took me over, and I let out a wordless roar. It muffled inside her love cavern. Her reaction took me by surprise. "That vibrated nicely on my clit. Would you please do it again for me?" her grip strength sharply amplified. I roared again and felt a stream of her nectars penetrate the material of her pants and trickle down into my mouth. Then the pressure on my family jewels eased off almost completely.

"I want you to tell me if you like ballbusting. Now!" Hulda lifted her pussy an inch away from my mouth and started again to pulsate her grip. She was clenching her fists like trying to pump more blood into my already painfully hard meat rod. To me, it looked like she was pumping liquids out of her cunt. "I dO LikE whEN yOU smASh my NUTS!" I managed to articulate. "Good boy!" she said, patting my plums. I licked my lips to collect all of her servings into my mouth.

Hulda pulled her hand out from my pants and started to get up. Midway up, she dropped her fist to my cherries, and it contacted mainly with my right one. "One for the road," she explained. "Let's get going just in case that passerby was so puritanical that he called the police on us. It might get awkward if my uncle appears here to arrest us for public lewdness. We still have about a mile to go before we can turn away from the paved road," she speculated while I was again rolling on the ground.
It took me almost two minutes before I was ready to mount my bike. I arranged my bits carefully around the saddle, and we continued our trip towards the beach; my mind working around the fact that my fantasies had started to concrete. I stared at Hulda's wet spot as much as I dared; the road still had some potholes to offer.

"Please, can you make that camel toe visible again? The more aroused I am, the less pain I feel." I begged when we had turned from the paved road to the small forest road. I didn't dare to ask earlier because Hulda would have delivered, and there was a significant risk of being caught on the bigger roads. "I can do much better than that, just look and enjoy."
We took a short break. Hulda slid her yoga pants seductively to her ankles, stepped outside of them, and stuffed them inside her backpack. She had revealed grey Brazilian-cut panties underneath, dripping wet between her legs. Then she spread her legs wide apart and squatted. I saw her clam digest the entire crotch part of her panties. "Like an inverse camel toe. No labia visible through pants, but pants visible through labia if you part the lips." she chuckled. The view was raunchy enough to dull most of my pain.

"You probably should hope it's quiet at the beach as you may have difficulties concealing your wet tent. Women can always blame a wardrobe malfunction, but men have more difficulties explaining wet spots on the crotch, especially with that amount of an erection." She said, looking directly at my junk, winked at me, and hopped back on her bike. I glanced down at my sweatpants front and saw that she was right. My precum had gotten through my boxers and had created a wet spot on my sweatpants.
"If you can catch me, I'll give you a handjob of the year," she said as she pedalled furiously. We continued along the forest roads as fast as we could, and I wondered how she stayed in the saddle with all that slipperiness around her crotch. It would have been a funny coincidence and reversed the dynamics if she had slipped from the saddle and hit her coochie to the bike's top tube.

The last two miles were torturous to me, there were roots and stones on the road that started to resemble much more of a path, and I could see that Hulda had some experience in mountain biking. Every root or stone my bike hit stung my right ball, and when I tried to pedal in a standing position, I slowly dropped behind her. So, I pedalled, sitting on the saddle and trying to look at Hulda's pussy to dull even slightly the growing ache in my balls even a little. Every root and stone got a groan out of me, and the pain got worse with every bump.
I finally caught her 100 yards before the end of the 'road.' She probably let me do it, but I still happily smacked her butt and yelled, "Got you!"
"Ouch, I'll remember that." She said, and it crossed my mind that my still unbreed offspring might regret that decision. They might even get a headache at some point for what I did.

There were other people on the beach. Four bikes were leaning against the trees at the end of the road. We put our bikes against some other trees. Hulda approached me, stopped several inches away, and rubbed my most protruding point. "Let's change," she whispered in my right ear and playfully bit my earlobe. "With pleasure!" I said and stared at her cleavage suggestively. "Pervert," she laughed, and again I got a punch to my balls. She hit mostly my left nut this time, and I hunched momentarily.
When I could stand straight again, she had already changed and stood before me in a rather revealing bikini. A white Brazilian cut bottom part, with an even lower waist than her panties were. The top part was also white and what some people call a halter neck bikini top. It had shoulder straps of textile tied together behind her neck, forming a cross between her blossom and neck. The lower legs of that cross widened a tick and covered at least her areolas, but not much more. The straps continued to her back, curving around her sides a couple of inches beneath her cans. They had less material than those I had seen before and gave quite an underboob. The sight was something that would have been a dream to titfuck.

I dropped my pants to my ankles and stepped out of them. Hulda started to stare intensely at my manhood. Her ogling got me a bit nervous, and that met her goal. I began to blush, and my cock hardened even further. She grinned and blew a kiss to it. It started to throb at the cadence of my heart. Soon I had stuffed all my bits into my loose blue swimming trunks. The only way I had managed to get my crotch area to look even remotely civilized was to flip my love wand straight upwards and keep the knob under the waistband. That left my balls in a position that felt even more vulnerable.
The whole situation had quite an erotic charge. I tried to hide my throbbing cock, and Hulda pulled me from my hand towards the beach. She was apparently in a hurry to check if she could get an exhibition erected for the other bicycle owners.

The owners of the bikes were about a half mile north from where we emerged to the beach. Hulda started to walk in their direction but stopped after a hundred yards. "This seems to be a good place for us," she uttered thoughtfully, and I wondered what she had in mind. We deployed our beach towels there.
"Can't we at least go to dip in the water? My right nut craves something cold," I suggested, and Hulda agreed.

The water was warm, even for July. Lake Superior tends to be chilly always. But that was where my Finnish genes kicked in. I have swum regularly in a hole made into ice every winter I remember. Ice swimming is good for your health and activates your blood circulation. Hulda was hesitant to come to the lake, but I walked straight into the water and felt relief when it took my balls to its cold, wet hug. I started to swim when the water was around the height of my belly button. It didn't take Hulda long to overcome the coldness of the water and swim alongside me.
Neither of us was a good swimmer, so soon, we were back in the shallow water and sat on the lake's sandy bottom, talking about this and that. The water was deep enough to cover our armpits.

"I'm cold. Let's get out of the water," Hulda said after a few minutes. "Are you a Finn at all if you are already cold?" I teased him. Suddenly I felt a hand reach to my crotch and fingers grabbing around my left nut. She started to apply pressure, and I began to squirm. I knew that the game was on. "I said I'm cold," she emphasized. "So?" I said with my best arrogant voice. The pressure appeared to multiply in a blink of an eye. I was sitting in the water shaking, my eyes shut, and trying to breathe steadily. I tried to be quiet because the other beachgoers might have been able to hear me.
After ten seconds, which felt like ten minutes, the pressure eased a bit, and I heard again, "Let's get out of the water. I'm cold." "Yeah, let's get out of the water," I repeated stupidly, as my brains weren't yet braining after her squeeze making me dizzy. Now both of my nuts were about equally sore, and while we walked towards the shore, my cock showed the correct walking direction like whatever signpost. It seemed to entertain Hulda, and I was equally happy for her.
The quartet of other beachgoers had started to walk toward us, and I did catch a part of what Hulda was planning earlier. We were between the group and their bicycles; they needed to walk past us. That thought didn't have time to age long before I realized something even more alarming.

We were in knee-deep water when I noticed Hulda's bikini top. It was translucent when soaked. It dawned on me that her plan for the entire day was to tease me as much as possible.
"How do you like my bikini? I bought it for this very occasion," she said, turning towards me. Her areolas were visible through the wet fabric, and her nipples protruded from her bikini top, creating tiny tents around them. I forgot to answer her, so bemused, I stared at her tits. The fact that they were covered and still visible through her sheer bikini top made them even sexier than I can describe.

Sharp pain in my nuts woke me from my daydream. "I asked how you like my bikinis. I can already tell it by just looking at you, but I don't want a mute boyfriend," she said with a mischievous look. "I like them almost as much as I like you but aren't you afraid of those other people down there?" I managed to answer and gestured further down the beach, where the people walked toward us. "They are leaving, and their bicycles are next to ours. How much of an exhibitionist you truly are?" I was concerned.
She let out a snicker and said, "So much that I'll take my chances with these panties. I'm not sure how fast this fabric dries." I hadn't yet noticed that her bikini bottom was also missing the usual second layer, and her pussy was likewise visible through the sheer fabric. "Oh, my, fuck!" I gulped. I tried to pull her back to the water, but another slap to my nuggets made me change my mind. "We are going back to the beach. We will lay on our beach towels and sunbathe," she told me. So we did.

Somehow the thought of random people seeing my girlfriend's pussy aroused me intensely. That, combined with the pulsating pain in my testicles, made my cock rigid as a horseshoe. Because of that, I laid on my stomach, my dick pointing towards my chest under me. As Hulda had chosen where we were sunbathing, we were lying legs towards the forest, our towels near the waterline, and she was lying on her back. There wasn't any chance that the quartet would miss her exhibits. I didn't like the arrangement a bit, but at the same time, it made my cock throb.
Hulda was also audibly excited; she breathed faster than usual. I wondered if her bottom would ever dry before the quartet lefts. Most likely not; her inner exhibitionist was in heat.

I glanced in the direction where the other beachgoers were coming from and realized that they were two boys and two girls from the same high school we attended. The guys were both in a good fit and were dark-haired. Both had flat-top hair, and I had difficulties telling them apart. They were even wearing similar swimming trunks with a palm tree pattern.
Both girls were about the same height, a couple of inches shorter than the boys, and one had her hair dyed bright red while the other appeared to be a natural blonde. Both had above-the-average tits, Ds, or maybe even Es. The redhead wore a quite skimpy blue bikini, and the blonde wore a similar red one. It looked like they were on a double date as they both held a hand of a guy.
I couldn't remember their names but I remembered them from my biology class. I saw the girls speaking to each other, and suddenly they made a sharp turn and disappeared between the trees. I didn't understand it, weren't the bicycles theirs?

Hulda must have been remarkably horny; as the others disappeared, she turned sideways, slid her hand under me into my pants, and started to caress my tip. My brain emptied yet again. I forgot the quartet entirely and turned to my side to ease her job. She sensed when I was near to bust a nut and moved her hand to my balls. She made a tight noose above my balls with her forefinger and thumb. A grip so familiar to me from my solo sessions, but this was the first time someone else had held me like this. My heart rate accelerated as I waited for what was coming next.

And then Hulda squeezed my nuts like she was trying to smash them and squeeze them between her fingers. They crushed against each other, and the pain was almost unimaginable. I tried to be silent because somewhere deep in my mind, I still knew someone was in hearing range. I buckled and trashed around, but that made things only worse by adding a pull to my scrotum. I tapped my towel and was surprised to realize I was wailing.
Suddenly the torment appeared to ease up a bit, and I realized it wasn't Hulda releasing her grip; it was the orgasm building up. "I'm cumming, please, don't let go!" I managed to wheeze, warning and begging her simultaneously. I saw a surprise in her eyes, but she recovered almost instantly and, to my disappointment, let immediately go of my nuts. "I can't let that happen," she said to both of us while my almost orgasm deflated away like a punctured water balloon.
Through my watering eyes, I saw two streams of her pussy juices running down her thigh. My mind started to race again. Did she love that much hurting my acorns? And if yes, how much of my jewels will be left after these last two weeks of seeing her constantly? And did it matter to me? I was in heaven and hell simultaneously every time she did something to my fragile eggs.
Soon the quartet returned to the beach and continued their path toward us. Hulda pulled her hand out from my trunks and made an offer. "If you are laying on your back when they pass us, I'll make that handjob a blowjob."
I glanced toward the group and realized that the girls had changed their clothes. Both girls were now wearing skimpy shorts made of denim and the most miniature crop tops I'd ever seen. Both were showing significant underboob, and their evident intention was to tease their boyfriends, and perhaps me too, reasonably much. The motion of their tits was captivating.
"Fuck it, they'll see Hulda displaying herself first, and maybe they won't even notice my boner if I hide it even poorly," I convinced myself. And so I adjusted my love wand's knob again under my waistband and turned slowly onto my back.

They were already quite close, and I realized that Hulda's bikinis weren't dried yet, not even the top and certainly not her bottom part. I could see the guys staring at her breasts. There was no way that they wouldn't see her areolas and nipples. The girls glared at their partners, not too happy about it.
And when they got closer, I could see the boys' gazes slide between Hulda's legs. I couldn't help it. The image of her crotch appeared in my mind. White translucent bikini covered her sweet, moist pussy, her outer lips visible, her legs spread enough that her inner lips were almost visible through the thin fabric, and her love liquids pushed through the material and ran to her magnificent ass.

My cock twitched at the thought, and I felt its head starting to slip free from the grip of the waistband. I couldn't do anything to save it. If I had moved my hands to cover or adjust, the situation would be highly awkward; me touching my crotch area when two high school girls were passing by and their boyfriends witnessing it. There would not be an end to the shame and rumours. The other option to not touch anything wasn't good either, but it was certainly better than the first. I let my dong swing to freedom. I was almost surprised that it didn't let out a sproing sound as it reached a vertical position; so sturdy it was. There was no chance that the motion went unnoticed, my formerly relatively flat crotch area of my trunks transforming into a five-inch-high tower in a fraction of a second. The movement was so sudden that they all turned to look at what it was, and I blushed.