3 Balls and a Magician

This story is intended for mature audiences... that might wipe out any of my friends reading this, but I'll go ahead.  Most of them have already heard this story.

Back in the spring 2005, I finally had a fling with Pockets. As one of my best girlfriends describes, he has girls falling out of his pockets -- so I'd tried to avoid sleeping with him, as you see pretty much every woman who comes in contact with him ends up sleeping with him. Some men, too, but that's only speculation.   Then there was that day, and he made all the right moves and I was in the process of dumping a guy who had treated me poorly, and there we were.  We fooled around one other time in the spring of 2008.  I can't justify the second time.  I only tell you this to set the stage.

Over the summer of 2008, I went back to visit this best girlfriend of mine for her birthday.  At her party, three of us are sitting around, joking about how each of us has slept with Pockets.  And isn't it funny that he has three balls.

Wha?

I somehow had failed to notice that Pockets had an extra testicle.  The look of shock on their faces that I was somehow unaware of this was priceless.  We laughed for a very long time that I could miss something like this.

A couple of weeks later, back home, I meet an interesting man at a local street fair.  He's attractive, intelligent, and claims to be a magician.  I get to know him better - he's a magician by training, also has a degree in architecture and works at a kitchen and bath showroom, and really enjoys wine.  I found that interesting enough to merit dating the Magician for a little bit.

One of the first few times we slept together, something a bit odd happened.  We're enjoying a little cuddling, and the Magician takes my hand, and guides it down to his *ahem* package.

And he says "how many balls do you feel?"

For about 30 seconds, I'm mortified.  Have I missed this AGAIN? Where are all these testes-enhanced men coming from???  But for the life of me, I think it feels like two, so I gulp and sheepishly say "two?"

"Yes!" replies the Magician.  Then takes my hand away, reaches down there himself, fusses about, then brings my hand back and proudly asks,

"Now how many do you feel?"

The Magician made a ball disappear.  He was sooooo proud.  The appropriate response might have been something akin to awe or getting turned on, right?  Maybe offering to go search for it?  Who the hell knows.  I lost it.  For five minutes solid I did not stop laughing.  Finally, the Magician got me quiet enough to explain why it was so funny.  While he sort of appreciated the humor of the situation, he really didn't appreciate being laughed at or compared to Pockets.

Oh well.  He's the one who was making magic tricks out of his balls.  You kinda gamble when you do that.

As it turns out that he was not actually very motivated in life or work, and liked to blame his 83 year old father for why he had not really succeed in life.  So things didn't go very far with us. But he did leave me with a fabulous story.