Tri-Testicled Balaying

The sun was blinding them, rays invading their eyes as they tried to stare upwards. It was hot out and sweat dripped from their brows and upper lips. A few of them sneaked off into the shade of the neighboring trees, unconcerned with the points and grades they would be lacking. The rest of them, however, changed and walked to the two bins behind the football field. They each picked up ropes, color coordinated by size, and moved to the sides as much as they could. They then strapped the cords around their waists, tied two knots, and finally¦leaned over to put the ropes in between their legs. Grabbing these two ends accentuated genitalia, mostly male, and the first few times they did this the red-faced boys would not be able to look you in the eyes. Now some of them flaunted their gifts.
A sharp breeze flowed over Renee. She shook as goose flesh enveloped her. The faded white helmet slid down her forehead and she slowly pushed it back with her shaking hand. The ladder convulsed and a cry betrayed her mouth while she grabbed a piece of cold metal that stuck out of the wide, timbered beam. "Sorry," yelled the two chaps that were assigned as support, remembering they had to stabilize her. She continued to ascend until she was at the top of the fifty foot pole, which looked like that of power lines', and took her first step on the wire. She felt a sharp tug on her waist, "Sorry, rope malfunction," was accompanied with a burst of laughter from his fellow comrades. She muttered, "jerk," while sliding her hands along the second strand of metal, about breast high. She stared at the bolts on the next pole. Once looking down, she leaned backwards and almost tumbled down in front of the entire gym class-which happened to be of a male majority. She grabbed the rope attached to her and brought her feet up. The cords cut off the circulation to her legs and thanked God that she wasn't a boy. Renee could barely walk when her feet grazed the dense grass. She threw off the helmet while an acquaintance undid the spotting clamps on her waist. Running over to the bins she ripped off the harness, not caring to tie the remains into the storage knot.
Walking over to the one clump of girls, she caught glimpses of the conversation occurring without her. "I kept balaying and balaying and it was only the second time I had ever had to do it." The girl moved her cupped hands, imitating the motion of pulling on the rope. Up, up, down. Up, up, down. Renee gestured to Cory, "Yea, balaying," moving her hands in a slightly ruder way¦Demi grabbed her aside before the rest of the honors femmes noticed the motions.
"Oh my God, I didn't mean to¦but¦um¦I looked down and Dylan¦it just looked wrong!" Cory gasped. "Three testicle syndrome?" Cory bit her bright green nail. Beneath the clicking escaped a tiny, "Yes."