"Beach Balls" by Artie (artie@netgate.net). This story is fraught with ambiguity. Here's the first paragraph:

"I love playing with my balls on the beach. I can do it for hours on end. I love the way they feel in my hands, the way they seemingly move on their own as the sea breeze hits them. I don't like getting sand on them, but you learn to be careful. It's a wonderful feeling; after a few minutes I know I'm smiling, I'm relaxed, it's great. Some people give me strange looks as they pass by, but I don't care. It feels good. And there are some moments of sheer ecstasy -- like when I have all five in the air at once."

Only at the end of the paragraph do we realize to our disappointment or amusement that the narrator purports to be a juggler.

And so, what are we to make of it when the girl says, "I love the way your butt wiggles when you do that."

From all appearances, she could be a juggler too. You'll have to ponder that one.

Turns out she's an English teacher and he's a psych prof - USC and Stanford, respectively. So at least we know they'll be discreet, as opposed to discrete.

Pretty soon he's teaching her how to play with his balls. She's a klutz, but she has a sort of war talent - I mean raw talent - sometimes I get dyslexic when I get turned on..

I learned things from this story that I hadn't known before. For example, a juggler's wand can interfere with his jugglery, and I didn't even know there was such a word. I think it has something to do with movement in one's center of gravity or maybe displaced attention. It's just hard, I guess.

I also learned that when a male juggler teaches a female juggler to jugg, it's not all bad if she drops one now and then - has something to do with optics or geometry. That plus hardening of nipples.

This is a really excellent story!