>Blueballing
>Back in high school, where sexual misinformation spread through the halls like bad gas after a chili cook-off, I got my first lesson in the torturous agony of the blueball.
“Whatever you do, don’t lead a guy on if you’re not planning to do anything with him,” a guy friend once warned me.
“Why not?”
“You’ll blueball him.”
“Blueball him?!”
“Yeah. Blueball. It’s like, if a guy gets, you know, excited, and he can’t do anything about it, he gets blueballs.”
“Are you serious?”
“Hell yes, I’m serious. It’s very painful, too. It hurts for hours.”
“Hours.”
“Yeah. Some guys have even gone blind.”
Even then, I suspected that blueballs were a made-up condition designed to convince some of the denser girls to go all the way. But just to be on the safe side,I took it in the other direction and cut things off the moment it looked like a blueballing was imminent. Because how would I get home if I blinded my date? And would he ask me out again if his poor blue balls left him writhing in agony for hours? Better to not find out.
By college, the term “blueballs” was about as archaic as “dry humping” or the highly unsanitary “finger fuck.” But since I’ve been married, it has enjoyed a rennaissance in my bedroom.
Mostly because any time I’m stretched out across the bed, Hubs considers it an open invitation to get it on, regardless of whether we have to leave in five minutes or I’m trying to take a nap or, like yesterday, his parents and our kids are right outside the door.
“Hubs,” I said yesterday afternoon as he nuzzled my neck while I typed on my laptop. “Stop it. You’ll have to wait ’til tonight.”
“I’m not doing anything,” he said.
“I mean it, Hubs. Stop. I don’t want to blueball you!”
He paused and chuckled. Blueballing is always good for a laugh. Come to think of it, asking my husband if he’d like to dry hump for a change would probably inspire some snorting, too. But I digress.
“What if you opened the door, staggered outside like a blind man and said to your parents, “Oh geez! I’ve been blueballed! Call an ambulance!“ I suggested.
It worked. The mood was effectively killed.
So if you’re running out of excuses in the bedroom, might I suggest the classic “blueball?”
Because it’s not just for teenagers anymore.
>Sadly, I’m the one that’s more likely to get the ‘blue’ syndrome. Though I don’t have balls. I tend to be much more frisky than does hubs. He also requires more sleep than I, so I often get “I’m too tired”. 🙁
>Blinded by blueballs? Someone’s being a bit melodramatic.
>I always thought blueballs was just a farce, too.
>naw. they are decidedley a real phenomenom. there’s obviously no color change, and the pain isn’t THAT terrible, but it can be rather uncomfortable. to be honest though, you’ve got to be cut off while rather close to climax to have any ill effects.
>If parents (and kids, for good measure) right outside the door didn’t do it, I’m surprised this would… And hey, women get an uncomfortable crampy feeling too if lots of blood gets congested down in that area and not relieved, but do we go around talking about “blue uterus” or whatever? A farce indeed, kathyb.
>Haha! Oh, I can relate to this one. Is that not the most romantic prelude to intimacy EVER? LOL
>Next time Hubs should try the ole, “Let me just put the tip in – just for a second” trick.
>Lisa, Lisa, Lisa…;)
>I actually did have a case on prom-night twenty or so years ago… so I can attest that it does exist. (This Braille keypad does come in handy.)
>I still get accused of causing that phenomenon….and he’s NOT a teenager anymore.*sigh* Are there any NORMAL men out there??
>Ummm, I’ll remember that one for when we begin having sex again. Hopefully, sometime this year.
>My Hubs, who sounds like he’s cut from the same cloth as yours, snorts at the idea of blueballs. Not that he suffers from it much – we’re happily well-matched… ;-)”That’s what your left hand is for”, he says. His left hand, he means, not mine. Because he’s a gentleman that way. (hohoho)
>Golly, I didn’t know sex could be so much fun….
>”Because how would I get home if I blinded my date?” LOLOL!Can’t wait to hear about the google hits on THIS one!!!Wasn’t there a rock song about blue balls? or was it big balls?
>I really don’t have anything to say. I’m just sitting her giggling. If my husband gets wind of this blue balls phenomenon I am SUNK, sunk I tell you. Let’s keep it our little secret, kay??
>I don’t think I’ve had as good a laugh as that since high school. Thanks.
>i find that a swift punch to the groin area can also produce bluish swelling, along with the desired dampening down of amorous feeling.
>Blueballs aren’t real???Man. Wish I had known that in high school.KIDDING.
>Hells yeah. I’m using it tonight.~Jennyhttp://blogs.chron.com/mamadrama/
>LOL! Laughed because I remember being fed the blueball line, and also being dubious, but unwilling to risk it. Sexual misinformation scares the pee out of me. I try to be open with my kids to avoid it, but I’m really not relishing the thought of a blueballs conversation. ;?)
>In the words of the late, great Jack McFarlin (late as in from the late Will & Grace show that I’ll never get over) “Tee hee! You said ‘blue’!!”
>I saw a guy with blue balls yesterday. He was painted blue and running naked down the street.
>ACK! Lucinda, I spit my one-a-day-caffeine-treat Diet Pepsi all over the place when my eyes rested upon, “highly unsanitary finger fuck.”OMG… I cannot stop laughing!!!
>LMAO. Well it sure beats I’m tired and have a headache.I have a husband that sounds a lot like yours. ~sigh~ I’m so using that next time.
>I always felt that blueballs were a myth. Just like the Loch Ness Monster and mermaids. Personally, I think it’s the weaker sex’s desperate attempt to get into a girl’s pants.
>They’re real. Nuff said. Now, how about a big “TM(effin)I” for everyone!
>OMG! Best excuse I’ve heard in a while. I MUST try this.
>That. Orrr ask him if his mother breastfed him. That always elicits the same reaction. Chris jumps away from me and yells “THANK! YOU!”I always enjoyed “Don’t start what you can’t finish” in college. Or what?! You’ll have to? That’s a risk I was willing to take.
>Has anyone read Belly Laughs by Jenny McCarthy? She talks about “blue Twinkie” syndrome during pregnancy. It’s sort of the female version of Blue Cajones.
>You’re always good for an excuse 🙂
>That just CRACKED ME UP. I have to deal with the “I will EXPLODE…” argument. Like the pent up beasties will somehow cause a volcanic dealthy surge.Men, eh?
>Reminds me of the “Blue Man’ group…..What, were they victims?
>Dear GodJust the mention of the term ‘finger fuck’ had me in memory hell…. when after a particularly naughty night you would ask your friend…Did you get ff’d…A slow nodand then the awful question….How many fingers?Lucinda…You have made my day but now I can’t get the image of this adolescent youth lying down at a party (oh it’s me!) with my knickers around my ankles and a smile on my face….And now back to work!
>Oh yes, thanks for reminding me of that good excuse.
>I take umbrage at calling finger fucking unsanitary. I know where my hands have been. And the politically correct term nowadays is “mutual masturbation.” Which is also a pretty reasonable alternative to blueballs.
>That is the very first myth a parent of girls should debunk.
>I wonder if Arbonne makes a product that works on blueballs? Like an ice pack or something?
>o heavens! these are things i don’t like to think about…
>You are too funny.
>owwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
>Funny and educational. I can’t believe the people at KY didn’t send you a sample. After all, it could be the cure to blueball blindness…
>I remember early in highschool on a band trip to disney world my boyfriend at the time (also in band it was a trombone/clarinet marching band romance) claiming that I had given him HORRIBLE blueballs! There wwas much grimacing.I waited till later to laugh at him.
>A good laugh for me this morning.