1
CHRISTIAN
“Seriously? Feel Your Balls?” I read the sign above one of the booths at the
health fair. The booth next to it has a sign Feel Your Boobs?
“Got your
attention, didn’t it?” Mary Robins grins at me.
“Can we go
feel boobs and balls?” Zach asks.
“Only after
you give blood,” Mary assures Zack the same way a mom would promise ice cream
after booster shots. At least that’s what a few of my foster moms were like.
The good ones, when I was still a little kid.
“Right over
there.” Mary points to a huge white tent. Inside are recliners and about half
of them are filled with people giving blood.
“They have
cakes, cookies and juice for when you’re done,” she continues in a cajoling
voice as she herds the guys toward the tent.
I watch as
my roommates slink off, shoulders slouched and heads hanging. Really, the
needle isn’t that big and they only take a bag of blood. It’s really no big
deal.
Mary comes
back to me, fists on her hips and stares me down.
“Can’t.” I
hold up my hands and step back. “I’m a regular giver,” I remind her. “It’s not my time yet.” And, they never let
me forget either. With A negative blood, they love to get their needle in me to
fill a bag and usually call to schedule an appointment two weeks before I’m
due.
“Maybe you
should be on Alex watch.”
I laugh. I
wasn’t there, but last time Alex gave blood he passed out. “Kelsey’s with him.
He won’t wimp out in front of her.”
“It’s not
wimping out to get light headed.”
“He’s a
fucking tattoo artist, and needles and blood make him squeamish. Explain that.”
She rolls
her eyes. “Totally different kinds of needles and a hell of a lot more blood.”
We are right
in the middle of the campus where on normal days students just hang out between
classes, but today it’s filled with all things health fair related. I didn’t
know what to expect, but not all of this. In one corner is a fenced off area,
kind of like you’d see in a petting zoo, but it’s filled with little kids and
playground equipment. Adults are in there watching too. The kids are running,
screaming, playing and crying. Right next to it is a booth with the sign Are You Ready for This? With an arrow
pointed to the playground. “Birth control booth?”
“Whenever
possible, it’s best to demonstrate. A crying baby is a lot more effective than
a pamphlet sometimes.” Mary laughs.
“So, what
are you demonstrating?” Mary needs to be at a booth in a few minutes for her
volunteer work.
“The proper
use of a condom.”
“Um, isn’t
that a given?”
“You’d be
surprised at how many guys were never taught the proper technique of rolling
one on and leaving a reserve.”
“Seriously?”
“Sad, I
know.”
“It’s just
as important for girls to know too,” I point out. Except a girl hasn’t been
around my dick in, well, too damn long. I’m not even sure the condoms I own
haven’t expired.
It’s not
that I don’t have the opportunity to get laid, like every weekend, but that got
old real quick. Something about being in a band makes girls wet. I know this
because they’ve told me. And, it was fun for a while but damn, I want more than
a quick fuck in the back room of a bar.
“So, you’re at the booth next to the kids.”
“No, they
are just handing out information about the clinic, services that are offered, a
map of the health fair. More of an information booth.”
I nod and do
a full turn. There are a ton of booths and tents. I can’t even see everything
they have, and the place is packed. They are mostly students, but it’s a huge
turnout. I’m not sure I went to one health fair when I was in college. They
seemed so lame and I didn’t really think I needed to learn anything new. Damn,
if I knew they were like this, I probably would have stopped in.
“I’m next to
the balls. Condoms and balls kind of go hand in hand, don’t you think?” She
wags her eyebrows at me.
“If you’re
doing it right.” I laugh as we start walking in that direction.
Mary slips
behind the table, relieving the girl who was standing there. Roll it Right reads the sign above her
head and another sign on the table says One
Break Can Last a Lifetime and Free
for the taking, in front of tubs filled with condoms. Guys are grabbing up
handfuls as they come by.
Two guys
stop and look at Mary.
She tilts
her head, giving them a saucy grin. “You sure you know how to use that thing?”
One of them
looks at his friend, then nods. “Maybe you should show me, just so I know I’m
doing it right.
“I’d love
too.”
What the
hell? What kind of health fair is this? I glance back to make sure Dylan, my
roommate and her boyfriend, is still in the tent. Did Dylan know what she was
going to be doing?
The guy
leans on the table, getting closer to Mary. “Should we go somewhere, um, more
private?”
She grabs a
condom out of the tub. “I’m more of an exhibitionist.” She dismisses him as if
the idea of putting on a condom in front of everyone is no big deal, then
reaches under the table and brings out a neon green dildo on a stick.
“Oh, man,”
the guy says with disappointment and I about lose it because I’m laughing so
hard. She so played him. Though, if Mary is going to spend her afternoon
showing guys how to use condoms, even if it is on a dildo, I may have to make
sure Dylan is occupied elsewhere. He sure as hell is not going to like
witnessing what I just did. Not that Mary did anything wrong. Hell, she didn’t
even flirt or lead the guy on, but a girl offering to help with a condom is
enough to get a guy thinking about what happens after the condom is on and that
guy was definitely jumping ahead to wearing the condom and being with Mary.
I glance at
the next booth and forget to breathe. It’s the girl who was coming out of the
campus clinic with Mary a few months back. I never got her name. I introduced
myself and all she said was “I know. You play sax, right?” Then she was gone.
I’ve wanted to ask Mary about her, but I don’t want Mary to start trying to fix
me up with people either. Girls do that when they are in love. Kelsey worked on
getting Dylan and Mary together and I have no doubt Mary would do the same to
me and the auburn-haired beauty with light blue eyes if she had any idea how
interested I am.
She’s
standing right beneath the Feel Your
Balls sign and now that’s all I can think about. Her hands on my balls,
stroking my shaft and maybe using that gorgeous mouth in the most pleasurable
of ways.
A slow smile
comes to her face as I approach, as if she can read my mind. Hell, of course
she can. You don’t put a sexy girl under a sign like that and not expect guys
to immediately think of feeling and tasting.
“Are you the
one doing the feeling?”
“Maybe.” She
leans on the table, hands flat against the surface, her upper arms pressing her
tits together, making the cleavage deep.
Damn!
“I hear that
guys like it when someone is feeling their balls.”
I lean in.
“If you want to feel mine, I have no objection.” Even though I know she is
working me, like Mary worked the guy on proper condom use, I’m happy to play
along. Except, I’m not getting what this booth is about. How can feeling a
guy’s balls be health related? Unless it’s to warn against blue balls. Which if
this flirtation keeps up, I may have a serious case of.
“You
probably don’t spend much time with your balls,” she says. “Most guys, when
taking themselves in hand, just jack off in the shower and give no attention to
the family jewels.”
Well, that’s
true. If it’s bad enough that I have to take care if it myself, ball attention
isn’t necessary.
“Did you
know that could also be deadly?” Her voice is low and those blue eyes are
boring into mine.
“Why? I
could slip on a bar of soap.”
“I’m
serious.”
“So am I. I
don’t want to die in the shower.” I lean in closer. Our noses are practically
touching. She’s turning me on like no woman ever has and we aren’t even
touching. “Maybe you should shower with me, for protection.”
“Give me
your hand.”
I’m about to
break out in a sweat. She can have my hand. She can have anything she wants.
I expect her
hand to go into mine, but she places something soft and light in the palm. I
glance down and it takes a moment before I realize what I’m holding and then
drop it immediately.
“I hope you
don’t treat your own balls so poorly.”
“What is
that?” Well, it looks like a sack, balls, and scrotum, whatever, and the poor
dick is even cut off.
“Guess you
don’t look at yours too often either.” She snorts.
BETHANY
Holy crap!
I’m flirting with Christian Sucato and we are talking about balls, feeling
balls, and all I can think about are his balls and his cock and those light
brown eyes.
This isn’t
the first time I’ve given demonstrations, but I normally don’t flirt. It’s not
professional and we aren’t supposed to. This booth is for information that
could save a life, but when Christian walked up, it was almost as if I couldn’t
help myself.
“Why did you
just put balls in my hand?”
I try not to
laugh but it is so freaking funny that practically every guy drops them as if
the testicular exam simulator has cooties or something.
“To save
your life,” I answer.
Damn, I’ve
gotten more requests today to perform personal exams than I can count. If
Christian were to ask, I’m not so sure I’d really want to tell him no.
I’ve had a
thing for him for a good year. Ever since I saw his band play at a club one
night. There’s just something about him and the way he plays that sax that is
so fucking hot. Hotter than anyone I’ve encountered, not that I ever did
anything about it. I’m pretty sure he has a fan base full of pretty girls who
are all willing to feel his balls and anything else and I’m not a groupie. It’s
not my thing. I’d just rather admire from afar, and it’s no different than
seeing a hot guy in a movie. Nice to think about but knowing you’ll never
actually get him. Out of reach, that is what Christian Sucato has been to me
and after this display is done, at least I’ll have this encounter to remember.
He probably
has more girls come on to him than he can keep up with and I’m pretty sure he
doesn’t even remember meeting me a few months back when I was with Mary. That
unexpected meeting left me tongue tied and I got the hell out of there before I
made a fool of myself by drooling or throwing my number at him. This time, I
did my best to prepare when I saw him. Equally hoping he wouldn’t come over and
hoping he would.
The point of
this fair is to entice people to take their health seriously, even if it means
luring them in to a booth with sexual innuendos. After all, sex sells and if
that is what it takes to save a life, I’m not above it.
“Exactly how
is playing with fake balls going to save my life?”
“Did you
know that about 50% of all males who develop testicular cancer are between
twenty to thirty-four years old?”
He pulls
back in surprise. “No, actually.”
Even though
I hate getting clinical, sometimes we need to and this topic is important to
me. More than the others, except maybe drug addiction and depression. Hell, all
of them are important and it’s why I took on the health fair this year. It
needed to be more than general topics, generic information and pamphlets. It
needed to be fun to draw the students in and hopefully, it might save some
lives, which is why no topic was ignored and they are being presented in a
manner that won’t bore the student body.
“How old are
you?” I ask.
“Twenty-four.
How old are you?”
“Old enough
to know that I need to check my body for lumps.”
He tilts his
head and frowns. “That’s not really an answer.”
“Twenty-two,”
I finally answer, not that my age matters where his balls are concerned.
“Testicular
cancer is rare though, right? I mean, not like breast and lung cancer.”
“Almost 6
men in every 100,000 will be diagnosed, but wouldn’t it suck to be one of those
six and you die because you are too squeamish to feel around your balls?”
“I’m not
squeamish,” he defends, though his cheeks start to turn a little pink.
“Look,
nobody thinks twice about women doing breasts exams, touching their boobs and
feeling for lumps, but ask a guy to do the same to his balls and they get all
weird, so tell me, why?”
Christian
shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve never thought about.” Then he narrows his
eyes on me. “How would I even know what to look for?”
I grin and
pick up the exam stimulator. I feel around until I locate the lump then place
it in his hands. “Now, with the tips of your fingers, press and feel your way
around and become familiar with what is normal and what isn’t.”
At first he
balances it in his hand and then does as I ask. His eyes go wide. “This almost
feels like the real thing.”
“I thought
you said you don’t play with your balls.”
His face gets
even brighter. “Well, there have been moments,” he grudgingly admits. “Like
when I was a kid and had only myself.”
“To play
with,” I tease.
Just because
this is a serious topic doesn’t mean we can’t have fun with it. Besides, I’ve
found most guys are more comfortable learning when humor is involved.
At least he
is taking this seriously, unlike some of the guys who came by and got wigged
out. So far today, it’s been about 60% who really wanted to learn something and
40% who were too immature to understand the seriousness of the disease and how
easy it is to check for.
I don’t get
it, not really. It’s nothing for a girl to feel around her boobs when she’s
washing them in the shower so why can’t guys take a few extra minutes when
washing their balls. At least, I hope they’re washing them.
I watch as
Christian presses over the spot where I know the lump is and goes on. Then he
stops and goes back. “Is this it?”
“Ding, ding,
ding. We have a winner.”
He grins at
me and sets the simulator down. “What’s my prize?”
“You get to
start playing with your balls in the shower for a reason instead of just
pleasure.”
He presses
his palms on the table and leans in close. “I still think it would be more
thorough, and pleasurable if you were doing the examining.”
So do I, but
I need to remain professional. “You and the twenty guys who were here before
you.” Then I pull back. “Sorry, I’m only here for demonstration, not actual
hands-on.”
“So, that’s
all I do?” He asks. “Press my fingers around my balls and see if there is a
lump?”
“Yes and no.
First, the best time to examine yourself if after a bath or shower because the
skin is relaxed. Hold your penis out of the way, then hold your testicle
between your thumbs and fingers and roll it gently between your fingers,
feeling for lumps like you felt on the simulator, or any type of mass or
something that might not feel like it belongs.”
“Hey, Bethany, sorry I’m late.”
Carina, who
was supposed to man this booth starting an hour ago steps behind the table.
“Matt worked over and I didn’t have a sitter to fill in until he got home.”
Matt is her
husband, a police officer with the NYPD and they have a nine-month-old son.
“That’s okay. I had this.”
She glances
up at Christian then recognition lights in her eyes. Carina was with me the
night we saw his band play. Carina also knows that I kind of really crushed on
him that night. I hope to hell she doesn’t say anything.
“So, if you
don’t need me, I think I’ll do a check.”
“Go ahead.”
She’s grinning, but at least she’s keeping her mouth shut.
“What do you
need to check?” Christian asks as I come around the table.
“This, all
of it.” I spread my arms about indicting the entire health fair. “It’s my baby
this year and I need to make sure all is going well and that nobody needs
anything.”
While it
would be nice to spend more time with Christian, I do have a job to do and I’m
sure he wants to go find his friends because I’m pretty sure he didn’t come
with just Mary since she’s dating Dylan.
“Mind if I
tag along?”
No words
could surprise or thrill me more. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He
shrugs. “I’m in the mood to learn something.”
