It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, the kind where you’re still in pajamas at 3 PM and the only major decision you’ve made is whether to go to the store to get food or order a disgustingly cheesy pizza. My brother Mike and me are both kind of in our bratty late teen era....
When I was growing up, I learned quite young that smashing a boy in his balls was a good way to a) get his attention, b) shut him up, and c) exert my utter female superiority over him. I practiced “ballbusting” on the neighbour boy who lived up the road,...
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