The garage ballbusting part 1

I was 18, hadn’t even started college yet. Sara was 19, helped out at her dad’s small auto repair place on weekends. We’d been seeing each other casually for maybe five weeks — mostly parking-lot makeouts after she finished work, sometimes her giving me a quick handjob in the passenger seat of her beat-up Civic.

One Saturday she messaged me around 9:30 pm:

“come by the shop after 10. back door unlocked. shorts only”

I got there, nervous as hell. Garage smelled like oil and brake cleaner. Only one light on over the workbench. She was in her usual jeans and a greasy hoodie, hair in a messy ponytail.

She didn’t say much. Just looked at me, nodded toward the open space in the middle and went “pants off.”

I pulled my gym shorts down, stood there feeling stupid and exposed. She walked over, gave my balls a couple light slaps — not hard, just enough to make them sting a little. I twitched. Already half hard.

Then she stepped back maybe two feet and kicked — not some movie-perfect swing, just a quick upward motion with the toe of her boot. Caught me square. Hurt like a gut punch. I made this dumb “ungh” noise and bent forward, hands going down automatically. She grabbed my forearms and pulled them back.

“Don’t cover.”

She did it again. Same spot. This time the ache stayed longer, rolled up into my stomach. I was breathing through my mouth, dick fully hard now which felt embarrassing. She kept going — maybe four or five more kicks. Not super fast, not brutal, just steady. Each one landed with a dull smack. My balls started to feel hot and tight, swelling a bit. You could see them getting pinker under the shitty fluorescent light.

After a bit she just reached down and tugged my shorts off completely so they were around my ankles. Then she knelt for a second, wrapped her hand around my sack and squeezed — slow, testing how much I could take. It hurt in this deep way. At the same time she started stroking me with her other hand. Got me close fast, then squeezed harder so the orgasm backed off and I kinda whimpered. Did that twice more. My legs were shaking by then.

She stood up, kicked a few more times — harder now. One of them really landed solid and I almost puked a little, had to lean on the workbench for a second. Eyes were watering. She waited till I straightened up, then did another.

Eventually she pushed me so I was sitting on the edge of the workbench, legs apart, feet on the floor. She stood between them and just pressed down with the bottom of her boot — not stomping, more like leaning her weight, grinding slow. Felt like my balls were being flattened. Hurt a lot but I was leaking like crazy onto my thigh.

She stayed like that, pressing with one foot while jerking me with her hand. Didn’t say anything sexy, just watched my face. When I started getting close she squeezed harder with her free hand around the base of my sack and said quietly, “go ahead.”

I came really hard — whole body jerking, shooting on my stomach and some on the edge of the workbench. Kept pulsing for way longer than usual. The pain made it feel sharper somehow. When it was over I just sat there panting, head fuzzy.

She stepped back, grabbed a clean rag from the shelf, wet it under the sink and held it against my balls for a minute. Didn’t talk much — just kinda rubbed gently, checked if I was okay. We sat on the floor against the wall for a while after, me still naked from the waist down, her leaning on my shoulder. My balls were sore for like three days after.