What I am about to share with you happened when I was in 5th grade of the high school (I specify that it was a high school, so that others do not get confused). It was one of the last days of school and out of approximately 20 classmates, only 5 of us remained (those who still had to be called for an oral exam in Art History).
All of us was 18 years old.
We were 3 boys and 2 girls. During the break, the other two boys left, and I stayed in class to talk with them - Deborah and Alessandra (I’ll call them that for convenience).
"So you've been practicing combat sports for 5 years?", Deborah asked me.
"Yes, exactly. I've also participated in several competitions", I replied.
"Cool. Could I ask you to teach me a few moves?", Deborah said.
I nodded and stood up, inviting her to mirror my guard stance. I corrected her form mistakes, then showed her some punches, encouraging her to mimic the technique.
After demonstrating a few punches, I showed her the front kick. I stood in front of her to check the execution, but her foot's toe just grazed my balls.
I flinched slightly on instinct; thankfully, my jeans absorbed most of the impact, though it was weak.
"Oops, sorry", Deborah blurted out. Alessandra watched with interest.
"Don't worry about it", I said. "This helped me realize you didn't throw it right because you should've aimed for your stomach and used your heel".
"But this move is more effective on balls!", Deborah insisted.
Alessandra added: "Great technique for making pancakes outta balls".
"If you think it's more effective on balls, then use it on balls", I said as the two girls burst out laughing at Alessandra's pancake comment.
A slight hard-on had formed from Deborah's weak kick and their teasing.
I demonstrated again: Deborah should lift her knee high, then push her leg like a spring, aiming to hit with the sole of her shoe.
"You should get back into position", Alessandra said.
"...you're right". I agreed and stood in front of Deborah with my legs apart.
This time, Deborah's kick was better. She played sports and had enough flexibility for that kind of move. It wasn't perfect, but effective.
Did she aim for my stomach? No. She decided to go straight for the balls again.
Her red low-cut Converse sole slammed into my crotch: the heel struck dead center on the balls while the upper part crushed my hard-on."
Between their laughter, I doubled over. My jeans absorbed some of the impact, but the kick was stronger than before.
"Direct hit", Deborah giggled.
"Scrambled eggs!", Alessandra added with a snicker.
Once I readjusted myself, I complimented Deborah on her form, though she had just wrecked me.
Alessandra wanted to try too...
End of part 1. To be continued...