Jodie was out enjoying her daily jog. She was 25 years old and loved to work out and show off her magnificent body. Her breasts being especially large seemed to attract the most attention. She knew they were jiggling right now,

much to the delight of the men passing her on her run and then envy of the women, or so she supposed based on the

nasty glares she got from them. She suspected many of them secretly wanted to bang her too, but that would be

reserved for her boyfriend, if ever she met one that could handle her. Jodie was a true ball-buster. Not in the

sense that she hated men, but that she thought kicking men in the balls was funny. She enjoyed it, but it also

frightened off most potential male suitors.

Her present roommate, Knave, was no stranger to Jodie’s playful ways. Knave was also 25 and worked with Jodie at

the ballet. One time Jodie publicly busted Knave’s balls during a recital of the Nutcracker Suite, landing on them

“en pointe” tippy-toe style as he lay prostrate on the floor. Another time she caught him exercising naked and

for no good reason other than sheer boredom, she snuck up behind him and kicked him square between the legs. If it

was a wonder to anyone why Knave stayed living with Jodie, it was because he had a secret of his own…he had a

sock fetish, and Jodie indulged him. To that end she had been wearing the same pair of socks for a week straight

for her morning jog, unbeknownst to Knave. She had stayed out jogging longer than usual to make certain that today

they would be extra moist and just what the doctor ordered.

She veered off the paved pathway and started to cut through the park, a short cut on the way to the apartment she

shared with Knave. As she ran thinking about the fun she would have when she got home a ball came flying out of

the brush and bounced to a stop a short distance in front of her. A young boy, she was uncertain as to his exact

age, came chasing after it. Jodie quickly glanced around and saw that no one else was nearby and thought she’d

have a quick joke at this young boy’s expense. She snatched up the ball and held it over head, teasing the boy.

“Can I have my ball back?”

“Which ball are you talking about?” asked Jodie.

“The one you’re holding. My sister and I were playing catch and she threw it over my head.”

“Oh THAT ball…I thought you meant a different kind of ball.” The boy had the decency to look confused. “Do you

like football?” she asked.

“Yup."

“I like football too.”

The boy gave her a look like she was lying. “Girls don’t like football. Football is for boys. My sister doesn’t

like football.”

“Oh I bet your sister would like football the way I play it.” Jodie smiled. “Would you like to see how I play

football?”

“Sure. I guess.” The boy didn’t sound convinced.