Right in the Balls

This happened about three weeks ago. I was working on our lindy hop routine. You see, my twin sister and I are dance partners. It makes sense, since we can read each other like books, even though we don't look alike. We've done everything together. We're even both studying psychology at UC Berkeley. That's why I'm talking to you. As a student of psychology, I kind of have an understanding of how important confidence is, and they say you're the best.

[Thank you!]

So, the story, and this' is exactly what happened, is this:

We have this move where she flips me over her back. Yes, really. She's just a petite little thing, but it's a safe move. I make a production of rolling on the floor, then she pretends to kick me in the butt, which causes me to rise back into an upright position.

But on this particular occasion, I must have been a few inches farther back than we both thought, and when she kicked, she connected. Holy fuck, that hurt. But then over the course of maybe thirty seconds, it got worse, so bad I couldn't speak. Junie kept asking what happened, and I couldn't even answer her. I was just curled up like a ball on the floor.

Finally, I gasped, "My balls."

She said, "Let's see."

I was like "No way," but I was still having trouble speaking, let alone breathing.

Before, I could compose myself at all, my sister carefully rolled me onto my back and  straightened me out on the floor. Then she started undoing my button and zipper.

Now understand, there were about twenty other dancers in the room at the time, and everyone was tightly gathered around me, looking all concerned. And my fucking sister was undoing my pants! It wasn't like she hadn't seen me in my underwear, and maybe once or twice naked when we were kids, but all these other people!

I still couldn't speak enough to protest, as I was thinking all these people were going to see my underwear. How embarrassing! In my mind, I hadn't even fathomed what was really going to happen.

She kind of tugged, and reflexively, even though I was still majorly aching, I arched up my back so my pants could come off. Why I did that, I don't know.

One thing I fully didn't realize is that she had her grip on the hem of my pants and my underwear. It all slipped off in a bundle, down to my knees.

Now, there I was, with my junk on full view of everyone.

Suddenly, the pain wasn't my worst concern!

I tried to pull my pants back up, but I couldn't reach them, probably because Junie was pushing my chest back down.

"Lemme look." she muttered.

I was quite sure that wasn't necessary. The pain was receeding, or maybe it was just because I was much more embarrassed than anything else. I had no room in my brain for pain.

She seems to have gingerly grabbed my dick with the thumb and forefinger of one hand, and lifted it out of the way. I couldn't help noticing how nice that felt. What was I thinking? Geez!

She started ever so gently fondling my balls. Except for one particular squeeze, it didn't hurt. Furthermore, I was noticing that I could breathe again.

I made a feeble attempt to pull my pants up again, and again, Junie pushed me back down.

All I could think about was how everyone was looking at me - at my crotch. Perhaps I shouldn't have kept the area shaved? How many guys do that? Now, I had something else to be ashamed of.

But I have a good brain, and I started realizing that shame is entirely the wrong emotion. I had nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, guys do shave down there. At least some guys do these days. I don't think anyone did in my dad's time.

As soon as I was able to let the embarrassment go or at least lighten up a bit, something else started to happen. I became very aware of what my crazy sister was doing. She was feeling my balls through my scrotum. She kept doing it, and of course the inevitable thing happened.

You see, I get erections easily. That's always been a problem. So, right there, in front of 20 people, all people I knew well, I sprang a full on woodie. My sister kept feeling around. She must have seen it. Surely she knew, but oddly, she kept feeling my balls for a really long time. Only days later did it occur to me that she went on way longer than necessary.

Now, I laugh about it, but for the next few days, I couldn't face the dancers and musicians - couldn't look them in the eye. They, to their credit, haven't said anything about it, other than, "Are you OK?," or "How are you doing?"

I'm thinking this incident has actually brough us all closer together. One of the women, a girl I've kind of secretly had my eye on for a while but who seems to have ignored my minor advances, asked me to go out to coffee with her, which we're going to do tomorrow. I'm convinced the incident has something to do with her opening up to me.

As you can imagine, this whole thing has brought up a lot of questions about psychology and especially confidence.