Splat!

Perfect timing

It all started on a pretty normal Saturday night. My best friend, Eliza, was running late, and her boyfriend, who I’ll call Jake for this story, showed up at our place before she did. I opened the door and let him in, flashing him a smile.

“Hey Jake! Eliza’s still stuck in traffic, but you can hang out with me and my mom until she gets here.”

He seemed a little awkward, like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. I guess hanging out with your girlfriend’s best friend and her mom wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. I wasn’t going to let him get too comfortable, because where’s the fun in that? ;)

My mom was mid-story about a poor guy at her college who had gotten kicked. Hard.

“So this girl—one of my students, actually—had been cheated on by her boyfriend,” Mom started, eyes gleaming. “And he had the audacity to keep apologizing, but he wouldn’t let her leave until she accepted the apology. Can you imagine?”

Mom loved these kinds of stories. “What happened?” I asked.

“Well, she kept asking him to move, but when he wouldn’t, he reared back her right leg and kicked him right where it counts. And I mean, really kicked him.” Mom demonstrated, throwing her leg up in the air with a fluid snapping motion that showed off more energy than I’d ever seen from her.

I laughed, watching her foot as it sliced through the air. “Bet he didn’t see that coming.”

Mom chuckled. “Not at all. He stood there for a second like nothing happened, and then dropped like a rock. He was curled up for a good 20 minutes.”

We both started laughing, picturing the poor kid writhing on the ground. It doesn’t take much to bring a guy down, if you just know where to aim. Once you hit the right spot, you might as well stick a fork in him, ‘cause he’s done.

At that moment, Jake started walking through the kitchen just as Mom was doing another demonstration of the perfect front kick. Her foot swung out, and it caught him by surprise. He flinched hard. I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

Mom stopped her kick before she hit him, but the look on his face was priceless—half terror, half relief. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” Mom said, her face flushed with embarrassment as she pulled her leg back.

Jake nervously replied, “That could’ve been bad. I could’ve ended up like that guy on campus.” He tried to laugh it off.

“Oh no! You heard all that?” I said, unable to hide my grin. This was too good.

He nodded, glancing between us. “Yeah, sounded like a rough day for that guy.”

“Well,” I said, giving him a sly smile, “we were just showing off some moves. Gotta know how to defend ourselves, right?”

Jake, trying to sound confident, muttered that it was probably hard to get an accurate kick. “I mean, it hurts a lot, but not if you miss.”

I raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping across my face. “Miss? I never miss.” Before he could respond, I swung my foot up, aiming right for his nuts. I moved fast, but like my mom, I stopped inches from making contact. The look on Jake’s face was priceless—his eyes wide, his whole body tensing up like was bracing for the worst.

I gently pressed the top of my foot against his nutsack, just enough for him to feel it, and leaned in with a smile. “Told you. I never miss.”

Jake let out a shaky laugh. Mom, seeing the opening for more fun, stepped forward. “Let me see if I’d be accurate too,” she said, her voice playful. Without missing a beat, she brought her foot up just as I had, but slower and more deliberately. Her small foot—barely a size 5.5—came right up between Jake’s legs, resting gently against his balls. She wiggled her toes slightly, smirking.

“You know,” she said, turning to me, “if you hit them just right, you can crush them between your foot and their pubic bone. I’ve seen some guys cry from that kind of kick.”

Jake tried to sound unimpressed, but his voice betrayed him. “That tiny little foot couldn’t do that, could it?” He looked down at my mom’s small frame—barely 5’1”, blonde hair, blue eyes, totally unintimidating. But we both knew better.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not about size, Jake. It’s about knowing what to hit.”

Mom grinned. “Exactly. Trust me, with the right aim, size doesn’t matter at all.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” I teased Jake. “Come to my self-defense class with me sometime. You’d be a great practice dummy.”

Jake laughed. “I’d like to keep that theory untested, thanks.”

But I wasn’t done teasing him yet. “You sure? I could show you right now…”

I swung my foot up fast, making sure to stop just before I connected, but this time I added a dramatic “SPLAT!” just for effect.

Jake froze again, his breath catching in his throat as Mom and I burst into laiughter.

Just then, Eliza finally walked in, looking at the scene with raised eyebrows. “What’s going on here?” she asked innocently, her voice a mix of amusement and suspicion as she glanced between Jake, me, and my mom.

“Oh, nothing much,” I said nonchalantly, crossing my arms over my chest. “Just showing Jake what happens when you’re accurate with a kick.”

Eliza smirked, shaking her head. “Oh really?” she said, her eyes narrowing playfully at Jake. “And how’d that go?”

Jake managed a weak smile. “Let’s just say… I’m really glad they stopped when they did.”

“Maybe you should join us next time, Eliza,” I added. “You’ve always been good at kicking his butt, but we could take it to the next level by—you know—going for his balls.”

Eliza giggled, and there was a wicked gleam in her eyes as she looked at Jake. “It sounds like he could use a couple reminders about who’s in charge.”

Jake said, “I’ve got enough reminders for one night.”

Mom and I exchanged a look, grinning like co-conspirators. “Oh, we’re just getting started,” I said, giving Jake a wink as we walked to the living room. A little “splat” never hurt… well, maybe just a little.