The second experience was at the swimming pool.
It was an afternoon at the end of September. The children had already started school, and the weather was gradually turning cooler. The large pool had only a few people swimming leisurely, just me, a middle-aged woman with her two little girls, and a man around 27 or 28 years old, enjoying the occasional rays of the sun. At the distant ticket booth, only an old man was dozing off, and the radio was playing a muffled Taiwanese song. The melancholic melody sounded lazy too. It was just that kind of lazy afternoon.
That year I was 18 and had just gotten into university. Maybe because I liked sports, my development had always been better than other girls my age. I had vacationed in Hawaii and visited passionate little islands like Guam and Palau. Not that I, Wang Yixuan, was bragging—my figure was definitely not inferior to those fitness models overseas. Even in the most conservative swimsuit, walking along the beach, whistles were endless. The relatives and classmates traveling with me all said I was Taiwan's pride—mostly joking, but not without reason. 172 cm tall, 33C, 27, 34—these numbers represented not just a beautiful body, but one that attracted bees and butterflies, sparking wild fantasies, just like the man in the next lane right now.
His gaze kept drifting toward me, more precisely toward my chest. Although my chest was submerged in water, that didn't mean he could keep staring at me like that. I suddenly regretted wearing this bikini with its bright yellow base and Turkish blue floral pattern. Although it was the most comfortable swimsuit I owned, its bold colors and design made my proud bust look even more inviting.
I stared back at him defiantly, only to discover he had a handsome, sharp-featured face. Paired with black swimming goggles, he looked just like a tanned version of the hacker savior—Neo! His solid, muscular body gleamed in the water. The silver-gray swim trunks around his hips looked cold, but I knew the hot thing inside was already stirring restlessly.
The man noticed me looking at him and seemed eager to show off. With one leap, he executed a powerful butterfly stroke, splashing bright water—clearly no amateur! I quickly followed with a freestyle stroke. I arrived a bit later, and when I lifted my head, he gave me a slight smile.
[Few girls in Taiwan swim as well as you.] As the man spoke, his unique accent told me he was an ABC.
[Thanks, you're pretty good too. I haven't seen anyone swim butterfly in a long time.]
[Taiwanese guys rarely swim butterfly. In America, almost every boy can do it,] the man extended his hand: [My name is David. Nice to meet you. I'm back in Taiwan for my cousin's wedding—he's getting married tomorrow. The bride isn't even half as pretty as you.] His mouth was really sweet.
I politely shook his hand: [Elina, just started university.]
[Well.....] David seemed to want to say more, or perhaps he simply didn't know what to say.
I smiled, turned around, and continued swimming. This time it was backstroke; I imagined myself as a fish gliding through the sea.
Although his appearance was attractive, I didn't like boys with such a foreign accent. I preferred someone more straightforward. I'd been to America, Japan, England, and Singapore, but I still thought Taiwanese boys were the best.
He started swimming too, but this time switched to a graceful freestyle. Freestyle, also known as front crawl, means using both hands and feet to move forward with minimal water resistance—quick and agile. At that moment, he really looked like a dragon shuttling through the water. He seemed skilled in every stroke, changing styles after each lap. A few times I followed behind him as he swam breaststroke, his full, plump lower body appearing right in front of me, flashing in and out as his muscular thighs opened and closed.
In swimming class before, the coach warned the boys not to have "dirty eyes"—meaning: don't ogle the female classmates with your eyes. Back then I thought, maybe girls' breasts are tempting, but aren't boys' protruding lower bodies the same? As long as it's not too obvious and there's no concrete action, a glance is fine. Men appreciating women, women appreciating men—it's only natural. Why call it dirty or not?
Maybe it was really my open-minded ideas, combined with my appearance, that gave people a very American, casual vibe.
At least David must have seen me that way, otherwise what happened next wouldn't have occurred.
We swam for a long time. At some point, the middle-aged woman had already left with her children, leaving just the two of us.
He seized an opportunity to swim over and ask me: Have you ever made love in a swimming pool?
I said, actually we've already made love indirectly through the water.
Upon hearing that, he seemed to have a physiological reaction—I noticed his lower body in the water starting to swell.
Like a mischievous little girl, I quickly swam ashore after doing something bad, leaving him hanging without giving him a chance to get closer.
I went into the changing room to rinse off. When I opened the door after changing, I was startled to find David standing right outside!
Still dripping wet, his swim cap and goggles removed, revealing short black hair and deep eyes. His silver-gray swim trunks could barely contain his lower body, clinging wetly to him, outlining his fully erect penis and two plump testicles squeezed inside the fabric. Some pubic hair peeked out from the edges of the trunks.
He was also sizing me up in my sexy outfit: a red fitted short-sleeve shirt that almost exposed my navel, buttons undone to boldly reveal a white bra, faded denim hot pants that couldn't hide my long beautiful legs, barefoot, white sandals I was carrying in my hand.
I'd heard some men like seeing women carrying their shoes—that's a very teasing feeling—or watching women put on and take off high heels, which drives them crazy. Breasts might be a strong sensory stimulus, but feet are a subtle tease, erotic, and he was staring at my feet in a lustful way.
[This is the women's changing room. You seem to have gone the wrong way.]
[you are so sexy.] He didn't move aside but came closer instead. I could smell the masculine scent mixed with chlorine on him.
[so what?this is not your business.] I didn't believe he could do anything to me in broad daylight and looked at him defiantly.
He suddenly grabbed my hand and pressed it against his chest. The warm, firm pectoral muscles conveyed his heartbeat, just as fast as mine.
He was smart. If he had touched my body directly, I would have resisted, so he didn't. He let me touch him. He guided my hand, caressing his Adam's apple, broad shoulders, thick arms, well-defined abs, and finally stopping at his hairy lower abdomen.
[If you don't like it, we'll stop here.] He looked straight into my eyes.
I had no strength to resist his gaze and closed my eyes. Then I felt my hand touch warm, damp fabric. Through the swim trunks, I clearly felt his penis—it was so hard and thick, twitching in response to my touch. Sliding down the straight shaft, there were two balls the size of ping pong balls. He guided me to play with those two masculine testicles. I felt the warmth and the firm-yet-soft sensation in my palm—solid yet tender, quite a wonderful feeling. His hand trembled as I fondled him, and I knew this must be giving him great pleasure.
He whispered in my ear with his deep voice: [this is my balls ,and you are my goddess who owns my balls.you can squeeze them , beat them , crash them,evencastrate them.whatever you want to do is ok,coz' they belong to you. ]
I roughly understood what he said. He wanted me to do something to his testicles—whatever it was, it was up to me, because his testicles now completely belonged to me.
David slowly knelt on one knee in front of me. With his strong arms, he gently lifted my leg and placed it on the eggs between his legs. A wave of warmth traveled up from the soles of my feet. I could feel two hard objects squirming under my foot—that was quite a strange sensation.
[please hurt me.] After saying that, he knelt down with his other leg too, legs spread, eyes closed.
This was an experience I'd never had before—a man unconditionally handing over his most precious organ to me, letting me play with it however I wanted. He worshipped me as a goddess, with no disrespect or blasphemy, only full of admiration and desire. I felt this was an immense vanity for a girl, and I was dizzy with it.
I felt shy and excited, at a loss, but still tentatively prodded his lower body with my toes. I lightly kicked his penis, and it responded firmly and resiliently. I used my toes to clamp the shaft and stroke it, feeling that scorching heat and throbbing. A few times his swim trunks were pulled by me, revealing the bright red, soft, plump glans.
That was the most striking crimson I'd ever seen—a very animalistic, primal color, just like the color every male animal in heat has on its body.
But my actions stopped there. I didn't dare to toy with his testicles. In my impression, a man's testicles were very soft and tender, extremely fragile. If I injured him, it would be terrible—I didn't want to end up in the news.
But he seemed unsatisfied, repeatedly moving my foot toward the two full bulges below, and finally simply pulled his swim trunks down to his knees, completely exposing himself naked in front of me. His swollen penis was still oozing fluid. That was the first time I'd seen a man's genitals with my own eyes—like a beast from another planet.
[my balls p-l-e-a-z.] His tone was full of pleading. I thought, fine, I'll grant your wish.
I began lightly kicking those two meatballs with my toes, watching them sway, jiggle, and bump into each other. He let out a low moan, a sweet, hot moan. I kept pinching and playing with them, but the balls seemed to have a life of their own, sliding slippery inside his scrotum. I had to use force to catch them. At this point David was breathing heavily in ecstasy, his eyes tightly closed, his thick eyebrows furrowed in distress, his expression alternating between pleasure and pain—mostly pain. Sometimes he even gritted his teeth in agony, his lower body instinctively trying to dodge my foot's attacks or attempting to clamp his legs together, but then
immediately spread them again, letting me play with him at will. I didn't understand—since it was so painful, why ask me to do this to him?
Men are really cheap! Cheap to the bone, cheap to the balls!
I squatted down and unexpectedly flicked one of his testicles with my finger. He cried out, showing an extremely painful expression. He opened his eyes and looked at me, that clear gaze like a child who had done something wrong, begging for my forgiveness.
I cupped his scrotum in my hand and gently caressed it. I found I couldn't grasp both at once! I rolled them, squeezed them, gradually increasing the force. The muscles on his body also gradually tensed and trembled with my force.
[oh......my balls....my nuts....oh....please don't be so cruel....] He kept begging for mercy, but I had no intention of letting go.
I whispered in his ear: [nuts,balls,those are foreign terms. In Chinese, you call them eggs here, e-g-g, egg, understand?] After saying that, I forcefully jabbed my middle and index fingers into his scrotum, hitting both eggs dead center!
He collapsed to the ground in pain, clutching his lower body. I stood up and started kicking him wildly. I found kicking his solid abs was also quite pleasurable—soft yet firm, just like his testicles.
He rolled around on the ground like a dog—a incredibly handsome dog.
I pulled off his silver-gray swim trunks, which had slid to his ankles, and stuffed them into his mouth.
[now,i wanna braek ur eggs.] I said softly in his ear in an extremely seductive and sweet tone.
He nodded without hesitation. I helped him up, walked into the shower stall I had used earlier, and locked the door.
We stood pressed against each other. He was only a little taller than me but much stronger, his body full of knotted muscles, but after my torment earlier, they were no longer of any use.
[close your eyes.] I commanded.
He obediently closed his eyes, but his eyelids kept twitching. His breathing was so rapid that his thick chest muscles rose and fell. His face was full of anticipation and fear, excitement and tension.
But I didn't move for a long time, wanting to give him an unexpected, defenseless, and overwhelming pain.
Time passed second by second. In this stuffy, cramped space, we could both hear heartbeats—our own and each other's. For a moment, I felt as if I didn't know where I was. I was pressed naked against a strange man, our clothes already soaked—sweat or water? His sweat? My sweat? Whose water? I was no longer myself. I didn't know why I was doing these things I didn't even understand. This man in front of me seemed pitiful, like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered, but in fact he had seduced me—or perhaps it was the vanity of conquering a male that manipulated me.
I started to feel angry, a nameless fire burning in my chest.........
Just then he suddenly sneezed and rubbed his nose without any defense. Yes! This was the moment! I clenched my fist and swung it hard at his scrotum! It hit both testicles squarely, the fleshy sound echoing in the space.
[ohhhhhhhh.......] His legs went weak and his whole body fell toward the floor. I followed up by driving my fair, smooth knee into his crotch—another slap, this one more muffled, but I could feel both testicles being squeezed between his powerful thighs and my hard knee, with nowhere to escape, forced to take the blow head-on. Yes, his eggs were actually quite hard, not as soft and tender as I had imagined testicles to be. But the harder something is, the more fragile it actually is, isn't it?
[oh....ho...oh...] He collapsed into the corner, trembling and moaning on the ground, his legs intertwined, hands hidden between his thighs. His voice was muffled by the swim trunks in his throat, whimpering indistinctly. I squatted down and pulled the swim trunks out of his mouth, hearing his weak, hoarse voice randomly shouting: [my nuts....my nuts....you break my poor eggs...]
I stood up and admired this thoroughly defeated male animal with no ability to resist, feeling very pleased with myself. I looked at his twisted but still handsome face, his tense but powerless muscles, panting, moaning, howling in agony.
Suddenly, behind him, between his firm buttocks and thighs, I saw one egg squeezed out—round, plump, covered in blood vessels. Without mercy, I kicked that egg, forcefully kicking it back between his legs!
When my toes touched that egg, I felt that hard sphere split in two.
At that moment, a thought flashed through my mind: I had kicked his testicle to pieces!
[Ohhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!] He screamed loudly, even swearing: [shit!....****!!!...oh!damn it!...oh ho...]
I quickly grabbed my things, stepped over his twisted body with my long legs, and walked out of the shower stall.
When I reached the door, I was greeted by a dazzling sunlight. Behind me, I vaguely heard David's miserable wails, but I felt no guilt in my heart. He brought it on himself—playing with fire only ends in getting burned, no other possibility.
The old ticket seller in the distance had already changed position while dozing. The radio was still playing that nagging Taiwanese tragic song trying to evoke sympathy. Everything in front of me was so peaceful, as if everything that had just happened between him and me had never occurred.
[...............Is this story... real?] Ruofei was speechless for a long time before finally managing to say something, her voice already so hoarse she could hardly believe it herself.
[I never saw him again after that. I don't know if he was able to attend his cousin's wedding safe and sound the next day,] Yixuan took a sip of coffee. [He probably went back to America afterward. Sometimes even I can't believe what happened that afternoon was real..... But I have to believe it, because.......]
Yixuan took something out of her pocket, faintly gleaming under the coffee shop's dim yellow light.
[No way! You took his swim trunks!] Ruofei screamed, drawing glances from customers in the shop.
[Shh..... keep it down....] Yixuan held her index finger in front of her mouth: [It's a Speedo! Keeping it as a souvenir!]
Ruofei took the tiny swim trunks from Yixuan's hand. She gently stroked the incredibly light and highly elastic fabric. She could imagine how the male penis and testicles wrapped in this fabric would have been clearly outlined, veins exposed. In an instant, her face flushed red.
[Later I saw online that there really are guys who like being kicked there by girls. There are quite a few overseas—they call this activity BB.]
[BB?] This was the first time Ruofei had heard of it.
[It means ball-bust. For them, kicking balls is more exciting than actual penetrative sex. I think David must have been a guy really into BB.]
[Then.... are there guys like that in Taiwan?] Ruofei felt this sounded extremely strange, yet incredibly fascinating.