Date: Sun, 17 Sep 2006 07:19:00 -0700 (PDT)
From: jack santoro <jacksantoro@yahoo.com>
Subject: Anxiety, Adult Friends, 1/1

       I'd worked with Jerry for a couple of years before we connected.
I knew that he was divorced with no children, as I was, and I gradually
became aware of how lonely he was. We were in our middle 30s but he was
blond, in contrast to my brown hair. Also, my eyes were brown and his
blue. Apart from these major differences, we were both about six feet
tall and with average builds.
       One day out of the blue he asked me if I would like to come to his
house the following evening, which was a Friday, for dinner. He said that
he wasn't a tremendous cook, but could do a steak adequately and make a
salad to go with it. I was glad to inform him that I had nothing planned,
and that I was grateful for the invitation. I thought it was important to
let him know at the outset that I was accepting his invitation
enthusiastically, not grudgingly.
       Jerry lived in a three-bedroom house only two miles from mine. We
were both somewhat affluent, and could afford reasonable housing,
although not with many luxuries. As he showed me around he pointed out
one luxury he had about which I'd only dreamed- a Jacuzzi. It was mainly
inertia that had prevented me from buying one so far.
       Jerry seemed a little nervous as he showed me around his house,
and was eager to offer me a drink. I thought he really needed a drink for
himself, much more than I did.
       I sat with him in his kitchen as he prepared the steaks and the
salads. He'd bought Porterhouse Steaks, and prepared them by sprinkling
a little garlic power on both sides. The salads were red leaf lettuce
with his home-made salad dressing, which he assured me was better than
any commercial brand. As he had a gas grill it didn't need an hour's
warming to be ready, and we took our glasses of wine outside to the
patio. As it was a balmy summer evening, Jerry told me we'd be eating
outside, and this was very appealing.
       "How do you like your steak?" he asked.
       "Medium rare will do just fine," I replied.
       "Great," he said. "That's the way I like mine too, and it will
make it easier for me."
       The wine seemed to relax him as he grilled the steaks, and when
they were done we ate with gusto. Jerry had brought the wine bottle
outside with us, and he refilled our glasses several times. By the end of
the meal we were both relaxed and glowing. I helped him carry the dishes
and flatware back into the kitchen, where he put them into the
dishwasher. Then he took a full bottle of wine out with us as we returned
to the patio.
       "I think I'll turn on the Jacuzzi," he said. He flipped a
switch on the side of the hot tub and I heard the pump begin to hum. "It
would be nice to get into the hot tub for a few minutes while we're
digesting," he added.
       "I'd like that a lot," I said to encourage him. "I didn't
bring a bathing suit, though," I added, waiting anxiously for his reply.
I was hoping he wouldn't offer to lend me one.
       "The walls around my yard are seven feet high, and the neighbors
can't see in," he said. "I always go in bare-ass. I hope that's okay
with you."
       "That's just fine with me," I replied, eager to let him know my
enthusiasm. "I really don't like bathing suits anyway. They're too
confining. If I wear a roomy loose one, it falls off." Jerry began to
undress, and I quickly followed.
       His complexion was much lighter than mine, to match his blond hair
and blue eyes. We unashamedly stared at each other as we removed our
clothing, and when he dropped his boxers I noted that his penis was much
like mine, small with a long foreskin nipple dangling ahead of the glans.
We were both growers, not showers, but I noticed his glans bulge was much
smaller than mine, giving his penis the look of a tapering worm. He
pulled anxiously at his foreskin as he stepped into the hot tub.
       "My skin's a little tight," he said to me.
       "Lucky you've still got it," I said. "Lots of guys our age
don't." I sat down next to him in the bubbling water.
       "I almost lost it several times," he confessed. "The school
doctor wanted me to get circumcised because my skin's so long and tight,
but my father said no. My father wasn't cut and he wouldn't let any son
of his get the chop."
       "That's how my father felt too," I said. "He taught me how to
skin it back to wash, and I never had any problems." I felt my prick
swelling because of our conversation, but the bubbles kept me from seeing
if it had had the same effect on him.
       "I was never able to skin it back," he confessed, his face
flushing. I'd known several guys with tight foreskins that prevented
skinning back with an erection when the glans was bloated, but they were
able to retract their hoods for washing when they were limp. I wondered
if this was his problem.
       "Can you skin it back without a hard-on?" I asked.
       "No, not even then, and I certainly can't skin it back now." He
lifted his hips so that his prick broke the surface of the water, and I
saw that it was fully erect and about six inches long, like mine.
       "Does it hurt when you try?" I prompted. He grasped the end of
his prick with the fingers of his right hand and stretched the skin back.
Part of the foreskin nipple had already expanded over his glans, but a
tight ring at the end would not yield, and kept him from uncovering his
tip. It formed a tight pucker that made it impossible even to see his
slit. I also noted that, even erect, his glans didn't seem very big. It
certainly didn't make the conspicuous bulge in the covering skin that
mine did.
       "Does yours go back all the way?" he asked. In reply I lifted my
hips and held my rock-hard prick upright for him to see. He drew in his
breath sharply and asked:
       "Can I see how it skins back?" I nodded and he grasped my prick
over the glans with thumb and index finger and began drawing my foreskin
down, watching fascinated as the tight ring at the end of my foreskin
stretched gradually as it slid back over the swollen helmet.
       "How do you wash inside?" I asked.
       "I've got one of those little baby enemas," he answered as he
slowly slid my foreskin up and down. "I fill it with warm water and
stick the nozzle inside my skin. It just goes in, and I flush my skin out
that way." He continued to stroke my hood, and now I decided to
reciprocate. I grasped his covering skin around the glans and began to
work it up and down, being careful not to stretch it back too far as I
knew this would cause him distress.
       "Is this how you jack off?" I asked.
       "Oh, yes," he replied. "I found out early that I didn't have
to have the skin back to masturbate. I put my thumb on top to massage the
rim through the skin and two fingers underneath to work on my hot spot.
That always worked, although I wasn't able to shoot a stream like other
guys could. My juice stayed trapped inside and just leaked out of my skin
drop by drop."
       "How did your wife react to this?" I asked, knowing that I was
being very forward in my questioning but also sensing that he wanted to
tell me.
       "She was sort of surprised that I wasn't circumcised, since her
father, brothers, and previous boyfriends had all been cut. Once she got
used to the idea, she didn't make much of it. She didn't even know that
the skin was supposed to go back off the head. I never had any problem
with sex. I went inside her and after a few minutes I came, just like
anyone else would." We continued to jack each other as he spoke.
       "Did you ask a doctor about this?" I continued probing. Now his
anxiety came out clearly as he replied.
       "Yes, a couple of years ago. He told me I needed circumcision and
referred me to a urologist. The urologist told me I should have been
circumcised years ago. He wanted to do it right then in his office with a
local anesthetic. He said it would take only 15 minutes and I almost said
yes. Then I asked him if he could just cut off the tight ring at the end,
and he said that doing that would just leave me with skin over the head.
He wanted to cut all my skin off. I didn't like his attitude and told
him I wanted time to think about it. I never went back."
       "That was pretty scary, I guess," I commiserated.
       "Scared isn't the half of it," he expanded, fear clearly
written on his face. "Come on, let's go inside and dry off." We rose
from the hot tub and went into the house, where he handed me a towel in
the bathroom. We were both still hard, with no sign of our erections
subsiding, and I suspected we'd have to relieve ourselves or, more
desirably, each other to make them go down.
       "This is what I use for cleaning," he said as he pulled a baby
enema from the medicine cabinet. It was a rubber bulb with a plastic
nozzle about two inches long attached. He ran warm water into the sink
and filled the bulb. Then he demonstrated it for me by slipping the
nozzle into the end of his foreskin and pushing it in until I saw the
outline of the nozzle at the back of his glans. When he squeezed the bulb
his hood ballooned out and a stream of water gushed from the end of his
foreskin past the nozzle.
       "That seems to work well," I commented reassuringly. "How do
you urinate? Does your foreskin balloon like that when you pee?"
       "Most of the time it does, and the urine splatters when it comes
out. That's why I sit down to pee, except when I'm in the shower. Then
I have to squeeze my dick to get the last drops out and use toilet paper
to blot it. Sometimes some stays trapped inside my skin anyway. That's
why I wrap it in toilet paper after I finish, to avoid wetting my
pants."
       "I guess you've got it worked down to a system," I said as he
removed the nozzle from his foreskin and squeezed his prick to work out
the last few drops, and then blotted the end with his towel.
       "Your skin works nice," he said, looking down at my prick, with
the foreskin bunched up in a thick fleshy ring behind the rim. "You've
got a big head on it, too. Your skin stretches over it to go back, even
when you're hard like you are now." His fingers closed again around my
prick and he continued to stroke my foreskin.
       "You'll make me pop if you do that," I warned.
       "I'd like to see that," he said frankly, looking into my eyes.
I hugged him to me, and our pricks came up between our abdomens touching
each other.
       "I know I'd enjoy it, but on one condition. I get to do you
too." He smiled as I spoke, and I knew that we were reading off the same
page at that moment. He led me into the bedroom, where we sat side by
side on the edge of his queen-sized bed. He'd brought a towel with him
from the bathroom, and now he spread it over our laps.
       "I like that big head," he said, covering and uncovering my
helmet as he continued to stroke me. "I wish mine were that big. The
urologist told me that if I was circumcised the head would grow out."
       "I doubt that," I said as I continued to jiggle his foreskin,
thumb on top of the glans and two fingers pressed into the hot spot
underneath. "I think that size is genetic."
       "You're probably right," he agreed. "I've seen cut guys with
small heads, and they were cut when they were born. Maybe it's just that
removing the skin makes the neck of the shaft thinner, and that makes the
rim stand out more."
       "I've seen the same thing," I said as I continued to stroke
him, picking up my pace slightly. His breathing became more rapid, and I
knew that the combination of stroking and talking about our pricks were
combining to drive him toward the brink.
       "Gee, what you're doing to me, it's going to make me come in a
second." I saw his stomach muscles tighten as he spoke, and I stroked
him faster to bring him to a glorious finish.
       He began to grunt with excitement, and his hand dropped from my
prick as he became wrapped up in the sensations in his body. I continued
to send thrills down his prick with my stroking, and I cupped his scrotum
with my other hand. His balls had tightened up against his body, and now
he put an arm around my shoulder for support as his entire frame began to
tremble. I knew he was close and I maintained the rhythm. Through his
foreskin I felt his tip become harder as it swelled slightly, and I knew
he was right on the edge. I decided to twist his foreskin with each
stroke, knowing this would enhance his sensation.
       The first twist triggered his orgasm, and he cried out as his
prick pulsed between my fingers. His prick pulsed again, his foreskin
ballooned, and now drops of thick cream began oozing from the pucker at
the end of his prick. His body shuddered as he cried out again, and more
cream oozed from his foreskin, running down the shaft and my fingers
until it soaked into the towel. His foreskin was swollen with the trapped
semen, and the ooze became a flow. I felt his prick pulse several more
times as he sobbed in joyful agony, and then he was still. I stopped
jiggling his foreskin and let him lie back to recover.
       His eyes were closed in restful relaxation, and he stayed that way
for a couple of minutes. When he opened his eyes he said:
       "Wow! That was awesome! You really made me come hard." Now he
sat up and began squeezing the residue from his foreskin, catching the
cream in the towel. "I've done this with guys before but it was never
this good."
       "What happened those times?" I was curious.
       "A couple of guys wouldn't even touch my dick when they saw I
was uncut. They thought uncut dicks were dirty. A couple of others were
too rough. They pulled back too hard and it hurt. I had to tell them to
take it easy. It's funny though. One of those guys was uncut, but his
skin slid back easily. He didn't realize how tight mine was. Once I told
him, he was very gentle."
       "I see how that could be a problem," I said.
       "That was one reason I almost let the urologist circumcise me. I
thought that if I was cut, all my problems would disappear."
       "I'm glad you changed your mind. You're better off with your
skin intact." He gazed at me, pain in his eyes.
       "Do you mean I'll have to go through the rest of my life like
this?" he asked with an agonized expression on his face.
       "No, I don't mean that," I said firmly. There's a way to fix
it. A friend of mine had a similar problem, though not as bad as yours,
and he told me how he took care of it. You really want to keep your
foreskin because otherwise the tip would dry out and become less
sensitive."
       "Your dick's ready for action," he said as his fingers closed
around my prick. Let me take care of that for you, and we can talk about
the rest after. Anyway, I like to work with a dick where the skin goes
back all the way." He pulled my foreskin up all the way, stretching it
until it enclosed the helmet and form a thick pucker. Then he slid it all
the way down until it bumped over my high flaring rim and snapped down
into the deep groove behind it, where it formed a thick fleshy ring.
       "That's fine, that's great," I murmured, relishing the thrill
of having my foreskin and glans stimulated. "It goes back a little
more," I coached him. `You can get it back behind the neck." Jerry
pulled down carefully, slowly stretching the skin back to bare the neck
of my shaft.
       "That makes the head really stand out," he observed. "You've
got a really big head, and the way the rim flares out looks so sexy."
Now he pulled up again, giving my foreskin a twist that stretched the
nerve endings and sent a thrill down my shaft.
       "Those long strokes feel wonderful," I whispered as he continued
to pleasure my prick. Now he cupped my tightening scrotum with his other
hand.
       "I wish my skin let me have those long strokes," he said
wistfully. "I'd like to be able to do the same think with my dick like
I'm doing to you."
       "Or maybe have me do it for you," I suggested as he continued to
send thrills down my shaft.
       "Your head's gotten a little bit bigger, and it feels harder now
through the skin," he said. Jerry stared intently at my prick as he
continued to work my foreskin in long strokes that completely capped my
glans on the way up and bared it on the down-stroke. "I wonder if mine
gets the same way?"
       "I'm sure it does," I said. "Also, you can't see it but I'm
sure the head gets darker too."
       "I can see yours got darker purple," he said. "You're also
leaking fluid." He gave my foreskin a couple of quick twists as he held
it mid-way up my helmet, and I felt a stab of sensation in my rim.
       "I'm close," I murmured as I felt my stomach muscles tighten.
Although I was trying to stay relaxed my sensations kept mounting and I
knew he'd have my load any moment. I felt myself withdrawing from the
world outside my body, and my eyes closed. I was now totally focused on
the delicious sensations in my prick.
       Jerry snapped my foreskin up and down over the rim for a change of
pace, and then brought it all the way up. I felt the familiar tickle
begin in my engorged glans. As he pulled it down again, he gave it a
couple of quick twists right on my swollen corona, and this triggered my
storm. Sharp sensations stabbed deeply into my helmet, and I cried out as
I felt my prick root contract and expel the first jet into my tube.
       It felt like hot lava, burning its way up my prick, and my entire
groin was throbbing with the force of the ejaculation. Another spasm
gripped me, sending the second hot jet rushing up my prick. Jerry snapped
my foreskin all the way back, stretching my gee-string, and the third
torrent gushed up my throbbing penis to erupt into the air.
       I was crying out mindlessly, lost in waves of sensation that put
my conscious mind on "HOLD" and the thrills of sweet agony flooded my
body. I felt my prick throb again as another load was extruded from my
throbbing helmet. Weaker spasms followed, until I was drained and
exhausted. I flopped back onto the bed and sank into a stupor.
       Minutes later I opened my eyes to see Jerry smiling down at me. He
bent over to kiss me tenderly on the lips and then said:
       "That was a thrill for me. I was watching every load shooting
from that big head of yours. You know I've never seen myself shoot, but
watching you made up for it. I kept your skin partly peeled back so I
could see the show."
       "It was great for me, too," I said. Now I pulled him down to me
and kissed him on the lips, both cheeks, and nibbled his ears.
       "Thanks a lot," he said. I sat up and began wiping my softening
prick. It had lost its extreme sensitivity and I was able to slide my
foreskin back to wipe the glans and inside, and then slid it up to cover
the helmet while I wiped the outside.
       "What can you tell me about how your friend solved his problem?"
Jerry asked eagerly.
       "Well, his foreskin was tight, although not as much as yours. He
drove down to Mexico and bought some betamethasone cream, a steroid that
loosens tight foreskins, and he used it for a couple of months. He also
used some spacers inside his foreskin to stretch it gradually. The
steroid cream and the spacers made it happen a lot quicker than using
only one or the other."
       "What kind of spacers?" he asked. "What are they?"
       "He made them from soft plastic tubing. He cut them to about half
and inch in length, using several different diameters. He put the
narrowest one in first and held it in place with a piece of tape across
the opening. When his foreskin had stretched enough to accept the next
largest size he used that."
       "Can you get me some or tell me where I can buy it?" Jerry asked
me, a note of anxiety in his voice.
       "No problem," I said reassuringly. "My friend gave me the
spacers and what he had left of the cream in case I encountered someone
else with a similar problem."
       "I wonder why the urologist didn't tell me about this?" he
murmured.
       "The urologist gets a bigger fee from operating than for writing
a prescription. Anyway, he was probably circumcised himself, and thought
that was the way to go."
       "I can't wait to try this stuff," Jerry said fervently.
       "Well, if you want to start right now, let's go over to my
house. You can rub in some of that cream and then put in the spacer, and
stay the night."
       "Okay," he said, "but let's go shower first." He led me into
the bathroom and soon we were standing under a spray of hot water. As the
water ran down the front of his body I saw his foreskin begin to balloon.
       "Does this happen every time?" I asked.
       "Almost every time, unless I've just peed before getting into
the shower." Now I felt the urge and I pinched the end of my foreskin,
trapping the flow and making my hood balloon to match Jerry's.
       "I've done this since I was a kid," I explained. It feels good,
and when I was a kid my foreskin was tight, and this helped stretch it.
Also, it flushed out my helmet and foreskin." I let go, and the urine
gushed from the end of my foreskin.
       Jerry pinched his foreskin's nipple shut, until his hood swelled
so much that it became uncomfortable. Then he let go, and a thick yellow
gush poured from the nipple.
       "Do it again," I urged. "Don't hurt yourself, but you'll be
stretching the foreskin a bit every time." By this time, though, he'd
drained his bladder, as I had, and we rinsed off and stepped out of the
shower. Jerry filled his baby enema with warm water and flushed out his
foreskin.
       "I have to get rid of any trapped urine or it'll get into the
towel when I dry myself," he explained. We dried ourselves and soon we
were in my car heading for my house. Once inside I led him to the
bedroom, where we peeled off our clothes. I took a box from the bottom
drawer of my bedside table. Inside were the cream and spacers.
       "Now put some of this cream on your foreskin, and tr to work some
inside too. Maybe if you use your pinky you'll get some in." Jerry
massaged some cream into his foreskin, and then pushed some inside the
pucker with the tip of his little finger.
       "Now let's see what size spacer you can start with," I said.
"Here, take this one. It's about ¼", the same size as the nozzle on
the baby enema. Put a little cream on it for lubrication and see if you
can work it in." He did as I'd suggested and soon had the short length
of plastic tube inside the orifice of his foreskin. I went to the
bathroom for some tape and he used it to hold the spacer in place inside
his hood.
       "I guess I'll have to take his off every time I pee," he said.
       "You can cut a hole in the tape to let out the urine," I
suggested. "It'll still be messy, but you won't have to replace the
tape every time, and it'll keep the spacer from falling into the toilet.
I've got a hole punch you can use."
       "Thanks, Jack. You're really sweet to help me out like this." I
hugged him and planted a dry kiss on his lips, and then we got into bed.
       "Sleep tight," he said as I turned out the light.
       During the night I was awakened by Jerry getting out of bed to go
to the bathroom. I followed him in and saw he was struggling with the
tape.
       "I've got to pee. I guess I have to remove the tape and the
spacer," he said.
       "Do that, and throw away the tape," I suggested. "I'll get you
the hole punch and a fresh piece of tape so you won't have that problem
anymore." I retrieved the items from the bedroom and returned to the
bathroom to see Jerry milking down his prick and foreskin, squeezing out
the last drops and blotting his foreskin pucker with toilet paper.
       As he reinserted the spacer I punched a hole in the middle of a
piece of tape and handed it to him. He placed it across the foreskin
pucker with the hole aligned with the one in the spacer.
       "I guess that's going to do it for me," he said gratefully.
Thanks a lot for your help." We went back to sleep.
       In the morning Jerry and I had erections from full bladders. He
showed me his erection, with the glans straining against the spacer
inside his foreskin.
       "You don't want to stay that way very long," I advised him.
"If you have that spacer pressing against your tip for more than a few
minutes it could leave an indentation, or possibly even cut it if the
spacer has a sharp edge." We went into the bathroom, where he sat down
and let his urine flow. As his bladder emptied his erection relaxed. He
milked his penis, took several sheets of toilet paper, and blotted the
opening in the spacer. After he got up I sat down to pee as well.
       "Why do you sit down to pee?" he asked.
       "It's easier that way. Even though I skin back to avoid
splattering, the stream sometimes splashes, and since I have to clean
this bathroom it's better to avoid problems." I finished, milked my
prick to force out the residue, and we went into the kitchen where I
fixed coffee.
       "How often do I have to change the tape?" he asked.
       "When you find it coming loose," I replied. "You don't want to
remove the tape while it's still very sticky. Ripping the adhesive will
irritate the skin. I'd guess every day or two."
       "I guess you're right," he said. "It's easy to tear the
delicate skin." I poured the coffee, and we drank it enthusiastically.
It turned out we were both coffee hounds.
       "I guess I'd better apply more cream on the outside, anyway. I
can't reach inside because of the tape and spacer." As he spoke his
prick began to expand and I felt a fullness in mine that told me another
erection was beginning.
       "I think we're both going to need relief unless we want to stay
hard all day," I suggested.
       "That means taking the tape off," he replied, and began to peel
the tape gently from his foreskin. The spacer slipped out into his palm.
We went into the bedroom, where we sat next to each other. I grabbed a
wad of tissues from the bedside table and placed it in his hand.
       "Here, hold on to that," I said. "I'm going to do something
different this time." I placed one palm on top of the end of his rigid
prick and the other underneath, and began to move them in opposite
directions.
       "That feels good," he said. "It's more intense than what you
did last night."
       "This not only rubs the foreskin against the head, but it
stretches it, including the gee-string. The combination can make you pop
in a minute." I picked up the pace and watched him carefully.
       "Your balls are coming up against your body," I observed.
"You're getting hot pretty fast."
       "I can feel it, Jack. That rolling action's really turning me
on." I steadily rolled his foreskin between my palms, feeling the
hardness underneath as his excitement mounted. His breathing increased
and became louder, a series of soft grunts that announced his mounting
passion.
       "Feel a tingle yet?" I asked. I noted that his face was flushed.
       "Yeah, Jack, my tip's tingling all over." His stomach muscles
contracted visibly and his grunts became louder. I knew he was within
seconds of creaming.
       HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" he grunted as his body let go. I felt a
powerful throb between my palms as his prick jerked with the first salvo.
He grunted again, and I felt another heavy throb. A drop of white cream
filled the pucker at the end of his tightly stretched foreskin. He
grunted again and semen began oozing from his prick. I felt a sense of
profound satisfaction as his prick throbbed again, and a thin stream of
cream ran down his prick onto my hands.
       "Enough! Enough! Enough!" he cried out, and I quickly removed my
hands. I knew what was happening. His prick had become super-sensitive
during orgasm, and further stimulation would only cause him distress. I
took the tissues from his hand and wrapped them around the end of his
streaming penis as he continued to discharge. He fell back on the bed and
continued to grunt for several more seconds as more spasms wracked his
body.
       I let him lie there, flat on his back and with tissues wrapped
around his prick, which began to subside. I didn't want to touch it, as
it would remain overly sensitive for a couple of minutes. I noticed that
he was staring blankly at the ceiling, dazed by the intensity of his
biological storm.
       "That really did it for me," he said when he was finally able to
speak.
       "It always does, Jerry. "Twisting the foreskin really hits you
hard."
       "I'd like to do it to you," he said.
       "Okay, but first let's wipe you down and get the cream out of
your foreskin." He milked his urethra and then his foreskin, to drain
the residue. Most of his ejaculations had remained trapped inside his
hood, and several big gushes poured from his foreskin as he worked on it.
       Now I lay back on the bed as he took up a position beside me. I
had a handful of tissues in my hand, as I knew he'd drain a massive load
from me. He placed his palms on my prick as I'd done to his, and began
the rolling motion. I was already primed from having made him come, and
Jerry's strokes had an immediate effect. I was already very hard and now
my balls tightened against my body. I felt a light tickle in my glans as
Jerry twisted my foreskin against it. This meant that I was already on
the plateau.
       "I want to watch you come," he whispered. "I want to see that
juice fly up in the air because your skin's not tight like mine."
       "It will," I said. The tickle increased and I felt an ache start
in my helmet, signaling an urgent need for release. The tickle and the
ache now combined into a tingle, and I felt myself withdrawing from the
world outside my body as my body tightened up in excitement. My eyes
closed, and now I was totally focused on the pleasurable sensations in my
groin.
       The tingling feeling increased and then exploded, making me cry
out in agonized joy as my cock-root contracted to expel a stream of
cream. The lava-like liquid burned its way up my prick and slammed
through the lips of my slit. Another hot spasm gripped me and I shot
again, crying out in joyful agony. A third hard contraction deep inside
me consumed me with sensations, and I now was moaning mindlessly, caught
up in the free-fall of my orgasm. Jerry's hands gave my foreskin one
last twist to bring forth another torrent of cream, and then released my
prick to fall back and throb on my abdomen.
       Weaker spasms followed, draining me, and then my prick stopped
throbbing. I lay still, too weak to speak, move, or even open my eyes. A
heavy languor crept over me, and my body relaxed.
       "You really shot," I heard him say after a couple of minutes.
"When I felt your dick throb the first time, I moved my hands down so
your skin cleared the hole. I saw each jet shoot out of it. Some fell on
my hands and the rest on your stomach." Now he leaned over and kissed me
delicately, tenderly, on the lips.
       "That was terrific," I complimented him. You really made me blow
my load." I struggled to my feet and went into the bathroom. We got
under the shower to clean ourselves, paying special attention to semen in
our pubic hairs. After we'd dried ourselves, Jerry went into the bedroom
to bring back the box with the spacers.
       "First squirt some cream inside your hood and work it in. Then
let's try the next size up," I suggested. Jerry put the spout of the
steroid tube into his foreskin pucker and squeezed some into the cavity.
He massaged it in carefully and thoroughly, which would have brought an
immediate erection if he had not just been drained. Now he spread a film
of cream on the outside of his foreskin and let it dry.
       "This might fit you now," I said as I handed him a spacer,
larger than the one he'd used the previous night. He spread some steroid
cream on it for lubricant and eased it into the opening in his foreskin.
We watched the delicate tissues spread as he worked it in, and then he
had it flush with the outside of his pucker. I cut off two inches of tape
and punched a hole in the center. Jerry took it from me and aligned it
carefully with the spacer's cavity, pressing the ends against his
foreskin on both sides.
       As it was Saturday, we did not have to go to work, and we spent
the day touring the museums downtown. That evening we returned to my
house, where I prepared lamb chops and salad. We were both tired from the
day's activities and we went to bed early. Sunday morning we awoke with
erections, and Jerry's was so stiff he could not bend it down enough as
he sat on the toilet.
       "Stand up and do it in the sink," I suggested. "I often do
that. It saves on water, too." We stood side by side, my arm around his
waist, as we waited for our streams to start. I was skinned back, while
Jerry still had the spacer and tape at the end of his penis. Our streams
began with dribbles, but once started they increased to bold streams.
After we'd finished we milked our pricks and Jerry took special care to
dab the end of his spacer with toilet paper. Our erections went down now
that we'd drained ourselves.
       "I never peed like that that I can remember," he said.
       "What, you mean in the sink?" I responded.
       "No, I mean with such a thick stream. Before, it squeezed through
my skin and splattered. Just now it came out in a solid stream, just like
yours."
       "Well, your foreskin's not in the way to impede it," I said.
"You didn't balloon either, the way you did before."
       "That's right. This is a real improvement. I really owe you a
lot, Jack."
       "You don't owe me anything, Jerry. It's my pleasure to help
you. I want to see you with a retractable foreskin, instead of getting
circumcised." Jerry hugged me tightly and kissed me on the lips, and
then my chin, before kissing me on both cheeks. The warmth of his body
against mine made my prick start to swell.
       "We're both getting aroused," he whispered. "Do you think I
should take the tape off?"
       "No, keep it on. Let's have breakfast. We can do something
tonight, and the tape will be easier to take off." We went into the
kitchen and I fixed a heavy breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast. It
wasn't very imaginative, but it was satisfying.
       "I guess it's okay if I stay here tonight, right?" he asked.
       "Of course you can, Jerry. Anyway, I live closer to work than you
do. We have to work tomorrow."
       "Then I'd better go home and get some stuff this morning," he
said.
       "Maybe I could ride along with you and we could go to a movie
afterward," I suggested.
       "That's a great idea," he replied.
       "You ought to keep that box with the spacers, tape, and the hole
punch in your car," I suggested. "That way, whether you're home or
here, you'd always have it handy."
       "That's a good idea too," he replied.
       We went into the bathroom to get ready, and half an hour later we
were on our way. At his house Jerry checked his mailbox, gathered a
couple of changes of clothing, and placed them in his Lexus. We walked
through a park for exercise, took lunch downtown, and went to a movie.
Returning to my house, we went into the kitchen where I prepared fried
catfish and salad. We ate with gusto, mainly because we were enjoying
each other's company.
       "I didn't really care for that movie," he said.
       "Yes, bad choice. The movie stunk, but at least we were together.
That's the important part." Jerry reached across the table and squeezed
my hand.
       "I like us being together," he said.
       "It's really a nice feeling."
       "I just hope we feel the same way five years from now," he
countered, a flash of anxiety showing in his face.
       "We'll have to wait and see." We finished our meal and went
into the living room with our wine glasses. I put on a DVD with European
guys jacking singly and doing each other, because I was sure he'd enjoy
it. After watching for a couple of minutes he spoke:
       "I like European porn. At least we know the guys aren't cut like
most Americans."
       "That goes for me too," I said. "I can identify with uncut
guys. If I watch cut guys, whatever they're doing, I can't relate to
them." We were both becoming aroused, and as we watched we began
undressing. Jerry carefully peeled the tape from his foreskin and allowed
the spacer to drop into his hand. I went to get a towel that I spread on
the couch under us. Our hands went naturally to each other's pricks.
       "I like to feel you touching me," Jerry murmured.
       "I like the feel of your warm fingers around my prick," I
answered. I was slowly jiggling Jerry's foreskin as he slowly slid mine
up and down the helmet.
       "That was really hot when you twisted my skin between your
palms," he said. As he spoke he gave my foreskin a slight twist as he
drew it down.
       "Your foreskin feels a bit looser, Jerry. I think I can uncover a
little more of the head than a couple of days ago." I leaned over and
was able to see the slit in his glans clearly through the opening in his
foreskin.
       "I don't think it's your imagination, either," he said. "I
can feel it sliding down a little more than before. Also, it just
doesn't feel so tight."
       "I'm just thinking what a thrill it's going to be when you can
skin it back all the way and see the head for the first time," I said.
       "Yeah, it's hard to believe that I've never seen the head of my
cock. I can strip your skin back to see your helmet, but mine stays
hidden. Everybody I know has seen his dick-head, and the cut guys have it
always sticking out."
       "Cut guys, yes, but I certainly wouldn't want to be like them,"
I said. "I feel sorry for them. Most don't know what they're
missing."
       "With me it was almost the opposite," he said. "I felt so bad
about my tight skin for such a long time I almost got cut a couple of
years ago. Lucky I didn't, and then I met you." He turned and hugged
me, kissing me on the cheeks and then the lips. I hugged him back
tenderly, enjoying the bond that was growing between us.
       "This hugging, this feeling I've got for you," I said
hesitantly. "It's really turning me on. We've barely started and I
feel I'm ready to come." I was very aroused, physically as well as
emotionally, and the two combined to drive me close to the brink. The
touch of his fingers made my prick tingle, and I knew that I'd lose my
load in seconds.
       "If it happens, let it," he urged. "I'd love to feel your cock
shoot in my hand, watch it spurt its juice." His pace picked up on my
prick, and I felt my excitement rising. The warmth of emotion fueled my
fire, and I felt my body tense involuntarily. Although the porn was
playing, I was almost unaware of it because all my attention was on what
Jerry was doing to my prick. I was holding on to his, clasping it in my
hand, but not stroking him.
       "Just holding on to your prick makes me more excited," I
murmured. Jerry picked up his pace, driving me toward the brink faster.
       "I like the feeling of your hand around my cock," he said.
"Even if you're not stroking me, it makes me feel warm and secure."
His words made me realize how closely we were bonding, and how our lives
were becoming intertwined. It felt as if the emotions poured down my body
to my crotch, because now I felt a very warm feeling in my prick. He
pumped my foreskin more rapidly, and I felt my helmet go into its final
swelling.
       "Your tip feels harder, and I can see it just got darker," he
said. A tickle started in my rim as Jerry bumped my ring of thick
foreskin against and over it, inflaming the many nerve endings. My eyes
closed and my breathing became heavy.
       "Your balls are really tight against your body," he told me. Now
I felt the heavy tingling begin in my glans, spreading from the front
dome down to the corona, and I knew I'd blast off any second. I was
grunting hard, anticipating the moment of release.
       "HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" I grunted as the hot tingle in my glans
exploded and shot down to the root of my shaft, triggering the first
release. Hot lava spurted into my tube, rushing upward and making me cry
out in sweet agony. The throbbing in my prick shook my entire body as I
was overwhelmed by hot sensations.
       Another heavy throb shook me, and I felt the second torrent gush
up my shaft to erupt from the orifice at the end of my glans. Jerry
yanked my foreskin fully down and I felt his lips envelop my throbbing
helmet, drawing the sap from it. He lip-locked my corona as his
tongue-tip drilled into my orifice, lapping up the cream.
       I cried out again as another wave of sensation shot through me and
a third jet erupted from my prick into his mouth. I was helpless in his
hands, caught up totally in the hot frenzy of my orgasm. Several more
jets exploded from my throbbing prick before my orgasm faded and my
erection began to relax.
       I slumped, stunned by the fury of my biological storm. Unable to
speak, I was very still for several minutes. Now I realized that I was
still holding Jerry's prick, and that it felt very hot and hard in my
fingers. I roused myself and put my mouth over the end of his
foreskin-covered glans, probing the tight orifice with my tongue.
Jerry's mouth was still on my prick, sucking the residue, and I saw that
very little had spilled on me or the towel.
       Jerry tasted salty from the copious amount of lubricant he was
secreting, and I swallowed it thirstily and gratefully. I pushed my
tongue into his foreskin ring as deeply as it would go, and was gratified
when the tip touched the hard surface of his glans. I heard Jerry gasp
and felt his prick throb. I wiggled my tongue-tip against the front of
his hot hard head and a moment later heard him cry out as he plunged into
the frenzy of orgasm.
       The first torrent of cream gushed from his slit, past my tongue,
and into my mouth. A moment later he yelped again as a second jet poured
from his slit. I sucked hard, swallowing to keep up with him, as his
prick throbbed again, release another hot jet. His hips bucked as he
thrust his throbbing prick upward deeper into my mouth and I savored the
salty taste and chlorine odor of his juice.
       Jerry was moaning and grunting as the sensations swept over his
body, and I felt the throbbing in his hot hard prick against my tongue
and lips. Several more gushes erupted from his slit, which I avidly
sucked down, and finally he was still. I carefully sucked the rest of his
semen, glad that I had not spilled a drop. Then I let his softening prick
flop down and got up to turn off the TV and DVD player.
       "That was awesome," he murmured as I returned to the couch and
gathered him in my arms.
       "I had the tip of my tongue inside your foreskin," I said. "A
couple of days ago it was so tight I wouldn't have been able to do
that."
       "So we're making progress," he concluded.
       "That's right, Jerry. It's working. Let's make sure you keep
at it." I helped him up and we went into the bathroom to shower. Under
the hot water we both got the urge to pee, and we held the tips of our
foreskins shut to make them balloon out.
       "Keep doing this every time you shower and it'll help stretch
the skin," I advised him. "I don't think you have any adhesions but if
you do, this breaks them loose." We rinsed ourselves and then we dried
each other with the towel that I'd brought back from the living room.
Jerry had brought the baby enema with him and I watched as he flushed the
inside of his foreskin with it. Then he selected the spacer, which was
about 3/8" in diameter, lubricated it with steroid cream, and slid it
inside his foreskin nipple. I punched a hole in a piece of tape and he
placed it across the end of his foreskin to retain the spacer. We were
both weary, and we crept languidly into bed, falling asleep in each
other's arm.
       That week was a busy one at work, and I had to go out of town. The
following week Jerry had to visit a vendor in another city. We had little
time for contact, but on these occasions Jerry informed me that he'd
been able to insert a ½" diameter spacer to stretch the front ring of
his foreskin. He seemed very pleased with the way he'd been able to
loosen his foreskin.
       The following Friday evening he came to my place for dinner. I
hadn't wanted to spend time cooking, so I got some Chinese take-out. We
were both eager to discuss his progress, so we undressed before sitting
down to eat. I saw that the opening of his foreskin was stretched out
over a spacer considerably larger than the one I'd seen him insert two
weeks before.
       "What size spacer are you using?" I asked.
       "Well, this morning I tried a 5/8" spacer and it slid in,
although it was a little tight. It's not uncomfortable, though. That
cream's really helping stretch the skin."
       "I guess you're keeping the spacers in 24 hours a day, right?"
I asked.
       "Absolutely, Jack. I try to keep them in as long as possible.
Once I left it in for three days straight."
       "That's good," I counseled. "Soon you'll be able to take a
bigger one."
       "This morning I was able to get the skin back halfway over the
head before I put my spacer in. I got a good look at my slit for the
first time."
       "That's good news," I said. "That gives you a tangible way to
measure progress." We finished eating and, too tired to do anything
else, went to bed for an exhausted sleep.
       Saturday morning we awoke with the usual hard-ons, and we went
into the bathroom. I watched as Jerry stood at the sink, trying to relax
his sphincter enough to begin the flow. At first he dribbled, but then a
strong stream gushed from the spacer. By this time I was also able to
pee, as my erection had subsided enough, and I skinned back and let go.
We watched our streams mixing as they ran around the bowl and down the
drain. I then made coffee, and we sat in the kitchen talking.
       "My tip's never been uncovered, and I found it's very
sensitive," he told me. "Yesterday morning when I pulled the skin back
I touched the tip with my finger, and man, it's really tender."
       "Mine was that way too, when I first got my foreskin back as a
boy. I couldn't stand to have anything touch it. That tenderness faded
over time, though."
       "I wonder what sort of a tip I'll have," he mused. "I can see
that you're got a big helmet type, but I think mine's going to be
smaller."
       "It doesn't really matter," I advised. "As long as it works
and you can get pleasure from your penis, the exact shape isn't
important." Our conversation was getting us aroused, and we both noticed
the swelling in our pricks.
       "I haven't had an orgasm in two weeks," he said. "Did you?"
       "No, I haven't either," I admitted. "I think we both really
need relief."
       "I know we won't need porn to get us going," he said.
       "I know you're right," I said as I headed for the bedroom. We
sat on the bed while he worked the tape loose. The front of his glans was
clearly visible through the spacer. He removed it and then proceeded to
demonstrate how much foreskin movement he had. He pulled his foreskin
fully forward to form a pucker, and then began sliding it back. The edges
of the pucker parted and his slit became visible. Then he pulled it back
farther and his foreskin ring widened to a dime-sized opening. We were
both rock-hard, and I wondered how much more of his glans he'd be able
to bare if he were soft. Almost reading my thoughts, he spoke:
       "Once it gets soft I'll try again. I might be able to skin it
back farther." I closed my fingers around his erection and began sliding
his foreskin up and down as far as it would go.
       "That's something I never felt before," he said. "When you
slide my skin, that tight ring really grips the tip, and it feels
wonderful."
       "I think that's because it's compressing the nerve endings in
your tip," I suggested. Jerry now closed his fingers around my erection,
pumping my foreskin slowly.
       "That was heavenly when you put your mouth on it last time," he
said as he leaned over. He pulled my foreskin all the way down to bare
the head and groove, and his lips locked into the neck of my penis. I
shuffled myself so that we were in a "69" position, and wrapped my lips
around his foreskin-covered glans, my tongue probing his hood's opening.
I tasted the salty flavor of his syrupy lubricant as I ran my tongue-tip
in small circles around his slit, caressing the tender end of his glans.
I knew that he must have a drop or two of urine inside his hood, but this
didn't bother me because I knew urine is sterile.
       Jerry's tongue-tip probed my orifice as he twisted his head
around my prick, his lips sliding sideways around my flaring corona and
deep groove. I felt my scrotum tightening, and saw that his was already
drawn up against his body. Now I removed my mouth to speak:
       "I think you'd better go first. I can tell how hot you are. When
you feel yourself coming, take your mouth away so that you don't
inadvertently bite me." He nodded, and I returned to work on his hot
hard penis. This time my tongue went in farther, and I wondered if I
could reach his rim, which I could feel through the foreskin. Jerry began
moaning as I ran my tongue-tip in circles around his glans, while
jiggling his foreskin with my fingers.
       I felt his excitement mounting quickly as I continued to circle
his hard head with my tongue. I tried to probe deeper, but found that I
could not reach the rim. However, I was able to strum the tip of my
tongue against the gee-string under the head, and working his hot spot
made him moan louder. Now he removed his mouth from my prick, and I knew
he was close because his breathing had become heavy.
       Jerry grunted loudly as his prick throbbed in my mouth. A thick
gush of cream erupted from his orifice as his glans pounded against my
tongue, flooding my mouth with his sperm. His glans hammered against my
tongue again as his body strained against mine, and he cried out in
joyful agony as the orgasm overwhelmed him.
       A chlorine odor wafted up to my nostrils from my throat, as he
emptied himself into me. His agonized moans filled the air as he gushed
again, spurting hot cream all over my tongue and into my mouth. My
fingers, clamped around the base of his shaft, felt his prick jerk with
each discharge as the frenzy of his orgasm dominated his body.
       He shot again, but this time the pulse was weaker, and I stopped
tonguing his glans for fear that it might be overly sensitive. I let the
flow of hot juice pour from his slit in spurts, sucking it down eagerly
as his orgasm faded. He was finally still, and I knew he was sinking into
a daze, exhausted from the fury of his efforts.
       My erection hadn't softened despite his neglect, because Making
him come and feeling his prick throbbing in my mouth had maintained my
excitement. I let Jerry lie still for several minutes, until he had
gathered his strength. He finally spoke:
       "Again, thanks, Jack. That was awesome. I blew my load and I
thought I was blowing my mind."
       "I had my tongue inside your foreskin, you know that?" I asked.
       "Yeah, I felt it. That's the first time anybody's tongue's
been in there."
       "It tasted good, Jerry. I enjoyed it as much as you did." Now
Jerry returned to my hard prick, grasping it around the middle of the
shaft and pulling down to ensure that my prick was bare right down to the
groove. I felt him lip-lock around my groove as his tongue lapped all
around my helmet. Primed as I was, each touch made my glans tingle, and I
knew that the combination of my abstinence and the excitement of being
with him was driving me toward the brink faster than usual.
       The sensations were irresistible, and I felt my helmet engorge
into its final swelling. The extra hardness sensitized the nerve endings
even more, and I felt every swipe of his tongue as if an electric current
flowed from it into my tender flesh. Jerry was pulling down on my
foreskin enough to stretch its nerve endings and my gee-string, dragging
the front of my glans down. The combination of sensations was making my
groin muscles tighten, despite my efforts to stay relaxed. I began to
grunt in passion, knowing that Jerry would be sucking the sperm out of my
prick within seconds. A heavy tingling filled my helmet and I knew I was
only a second away from the explosion.
       I cried out helplessly as the root of my prick contracted, sending
the first torrent of cream shooting up my tube. I felt the powerful
suction of Jerry's lips as he drew the stream from my straining,
throbbing helmet. I yelped in sweet agony as another joyful spasm gripped
my groin, spewing another burning jet that seared its way up my prick to
erupt in his mouth. Now he twisted his head, giving me sideways friction
around my flaring and swollen corona, and my body shuddered as it
expelled another load of cream.
       I felt his teeth lightly scrape my helmet, sending hot sparks of
sensation stabbing deeply into my glans, provoking another hot spasm that
made me shoot again. Now he stopped his effort as my orgasm raged on,
because he knew my tip was becoming too sensitive. I continued to spurt
into his mouth, but with less force now that my orgasm was winding down.
My last few contractions, although very pleasurable, delivered only a
steady ooze onto his tongue.
       Now it was my turn to lie dazed from the consuming fire of my
discharge. I was drained, totally torpid, and barely conscious.
       Minutes later I revived and said:
       "Loved it, loved it. You really sucked me dry."
       "I loved it too, the way your helmet head was throbbing in my
mouth."
       "This is real togetherness for us," I said.
       "I'd rather do this with you than anybody else," he said.
       "I feel the same way, Jerry. You're really special to me."
       "And you to me," was his rejoinder. I shuffled around so that we
were now face to face instead of head to toe. I kissed him on the lips,
as I hugged him passionately, lovingly, and nibbled on his earlobe.
       "Now that you're soft," I began. "Can you see how far you can
skin it back?" We parted and he reached down to his limp prick, pulling
back on his foreskin. As the tight fleshy hood slid back an arrowhead
shaped glans emerged from its folds. Instead of being rounded, it looked
more like an isosceles triangle, narrow and pointed. The corona was flat,
not flaring, and the color was red.
       "It's out," he said joyfully as he held it on display for me to
scrutinize.
       "Can you get the skin back any farther?" I asked. He tugged
again, but the edge of the foreskin remained poised on the corona. "At
least you can skin back to pee and to wash," I concluded. He leaned
toward me and kissed me on the lips.
       We went into the kitchen naked and I made coffee. We both enjoyed
coffee, but I had an ulterior motive that I shared with him:
       "I want to get you full of coffee and then watch you pee. You'll
be able to get your foreskin back to pee the way I do."
       "You're right," he agreed. "But now how will I do it with the
spacer in? It'll be just as before."
       "My friend changed his taping technique when he has stretched his
foreskin part-way. Instead of using a tape strap across the spacer, he
used a ring around the end of his foreskin and folded the tape over to
retain the spacer. That let him pee right through the hole. Cleaning up
afterward was a lot simpler." We sipped our coffee thoughtfully and
after several more cups, my bladder was ready to burst.
       "I really have to go," he said, getting up.
       "I do too," I said as I followed him into the bathroom. We stood
side by side at the sink, hips touching, as we skinned back. His stream
began just before mine, a straight and powerful stream that splashed
against the far side of the bowl. Mine followed, and our streams mixed in
the bowl before flowing down the drain. In the mirror, I saw a look of
triumph on his face as he urinated the normal way for the first time in
his life.
       "This is great!" he exclaimed. "I love it!
       Our streams dwindled to dribbles, and we milked our pricks to
expel that last drops. Then we slid our hoods forward to cover our tips.
We showered, during which we again had to pee, this time pinching our
foreskins shut to make our foreskins balloon.
       Before we got dressed, Jerry said:
       "Maybe I can slip in the 5/8" spacer now. This might be too
soon, but I'll give it a try." This time he was able to skin back
enough to spread a thick layer of steroid cream over his glans and work
his foreskin back and forth a few times to spread it. Then he grasped the
end of his foreskin edge and slipped in the larger spacer. It was a tight
fit, but it went in. I tore off a length of tape and wound it around the
end of his foreskin, leaving an edge that I folded over the rim of the
spacer to hold it firmly.
       We went out to breakfast, and I noticed a happy look on his face.
The anxiety that had clouded his mood ever since I'd known him seemed to
have vanished. At a diner, we ordered ham, eggs, ash browns, and toast,
which we ate with gusto.
       Because of the pressure of work, we had to go in at noon that
Saturday, and we worked Sunday as well. We had no time for sex, and on
Monday I had to leave for another trip. The next time we got together was
two weekends later, and this time we met at his home. That Friday evening
he'd brought a pizza home with him, and we sat on his patio washing it
down with beer. He'd turned on the Jacuzzi and we planned to soak in the
bubbling water after we'd finished eating.
       We'd already stripped naked before beginning our meal, and I saw
that he had a pronounced bulge in the end of his foreskin. I asked him
about this:
       "What size spacer are you using now?"
       "I've worked up to the 1" size," he replied. "My skin's
really stretching, between the cream and those spacers."
       "Can you skin back all the way now?"
       "Oh, yes," he said. "When I take the spacer out, I skin back to
wash, and the skin goes all the way back so that I can even uncover the
groove behind my rim. That's when I'm soft, of course." He held his
penis up to me and I saw that the entire front end of his glans was
visible in the hole. When we'd finished eating we got into the hot tub.
We sat comfortably for about fifteen minutes, until he said:
       "The water always loosens the tape. I'll take it off now." He
worked at his penis under the bubbles, and deposited the spacer and the
strip of tape on the edge of the tub. Then he lifted his hips to thrust
his prick above the water.
       "See, it goes back all the way," he said as he demonstrated. The
foreskin slid down smoothly to reveal to glans down to the rim. He pulled
down a bit more, and exposed the neck of his penis, with the ring of
foreskin bunched up behind it, held in place by his fingers. The
arrowhead glans was very red, suggesting that it was very sensitive. I
touched it with a fingertip, making him flinch slightly.
       "It's pretty tender," he said with a slight grin.
       "I'm sure it is. Mine was that way too, when I first skinned it
back." His prick began to swell, and I felt mine engorging under the
water as well. Soon we were both hard, and I saw him wince in discomfort.
       "I think my skin's trapped behind the head," he said. "I
can't get it to go forward now that the head's swollen."
       "It's not a problem," I reassured him. "That's called
paraphimosis and it means the foreskin's stuck behind the head. There's
a simple solution, although if your urologist saw that he'd reach for a
knife right away." I reached over and grasped his glans between thumb
and forefinger, gently squeezing it to force the blood out of it. Once it
was reduced in size, the foreskin easily slipped forward to cover it
again.
       We were both very aroused from handling his prick, and in unspoken
agreement we got out of the tub and dried ourselves. In his bedroom, we
sat on the edge of the bed while I gently stroked his foreskin up and
down, carefully avoiding pulling it too far back, as we didn't want it
to ride over the rim and become stuck again. Jerry's slit was seeping
syrupy lubricant, which made his hood slide much more easily. Meanwhile,
he stroked mine the same way, although using longer strokes because my
foreskin rode easily over my flaring corona in both directions.
       "This is so exciting for me," he said between heavy breaths.
"I'm getting my skin stroked the way I'm doing yours."
       "That's another first for you," I commented reassuringly.
"Just relax and enjoy it."
       "Oh, damn, Jack, do it to me, do it! "I'm so hot I just need to
come!" I picked up the pace and watched his scrotum tighten against his
body. Through the enveloping skin I felt his glans become harder.
"Look at it, Jack. My tip's really red. I'm ready to pop."
"I know you are," I said. "Just relax now. Hold on to my prick because
that gets you excited, but let me bring you over the edge." I pumped his
foreskin as his fingers slowed on my prick and then stopped. He was
getting caught up in the breathless race to the peak, and I knew his mind
was on his own sensations rather than mine.
Jerry began grunting as a flood of sensations poured into his sensitive
prick. I had a strong feeling of anticipation as I stroked him to bring
on his orgasm. His face flushed and his eyelids began to flutter. I saw
his stomach muscles tighten and I knew that any moment he'd be tumbling
over the edge, into the free-fall of orgasm.
       I heard him cry out the instant I felt the first powerful throb in
his prick. I was on the down-stroke, baring his glans, and I saw a long
thick jet erupt from his slit to land on his thigh. He yelped again and
another long stream gushed from his throbbing prick. This time I was on
the up-stroke and caught most of it in his foreskin. I pulled down again,
and his cream poured down over my encircling fingers as another powerful
jet slammed through the lips of his slit.
       Now I pulled down harder on his hood to bare the arrowhead glans
and the groove behind it. The chlorine odor of his juice filled the air,
but I wanted to taste it as well. My lips encircled the narrow head and I
felt it throb in release. His jet spurted up into my mouth, striking my
palate, and I swallowed avidly. My tongue teased the gee-string under his
glans, provoking another discharge that poured onto my tongue. I twisted
my head so that my lips caressed the rim of his glans, and received
another hot gush in reward. I heard him start to squeal and realized that
his prick-head had gotten too sensitive, and I stopped moving.
       Jerry's last weak discharges flowed onto my tongue, until they
became a mere seepage from his slit. I withdrew my mouth and stared at
his red swollen tip. The narrow point was parted by a slit, the lips of
which barely gaped from the jets that had so recently shot through it.
Although his body was starting to relax after the storm, his tip remained
red and fully swollen. I realized that the tight foreskin, lodged behind
the head, was acting like a tourniquet, preventing the return flow of
blood from his glans. Now I grasped his glans between thumb and
forefinger and squeezed the blood out of it until it had shrunk enough to
allow the trapped foreskin to slide forward over it. Once his tip was
safely enclosed in the protective hood, it began shrinking.
       When Jerry recovered from his daze we wiped ourselves with
tissues, also sopping up drops of cream that had fallen onto the
bed-sheet. Jerry reinserted the spacer and wrapped tape around the end of
his foreskin to hold it.
We'd had a good meal, relaxed in the hot tub, drained ourselves with
sex, and now we were ready for sleep. We pulled the sheet up over us and
fell asleep in each other's arms.
       There was a gap of a month before we saw each other again, and
this time we rendezvoused at my house on a Friday evening. As I grilled
steaks on my patio, I asked him:
       "How long since you last came?"
       "Not since we were together. How about you?"
       "A couple of weeks ago I just had to have relief, so I stroked
myself before going to bed. I couldn't hold out anymore."
       "I was pretty horny too, but too tired to do it at night. In the
morning I had to rush getting ready for work," he said.
       "You've got quite a load stored up. We'll have to do something
about that after dinner," I said. Because fall was in the air, we ate
inside, and we stripped off our clothing before sitting at the table. I
noticed that the end of his foreskin was stretched by a spacer larger
than he'd been using. He saw me looking and said:
       "I'm up to an inch and a quarter now. That's bigger than my
tip, but I want to make sure I've got some slack, just to make sure my
skin doesn't get caught behind the head."
       "It's been working pretty well for you," I observed. We ate
without comment and then after we'd cleared the table, we proceeded to
my bedroom. I watched as Jerry removed the tape from his foreskin and
withdrew that spacer. I saw that his foreskin had indeed loosened a lot,
and that the aperture was somewhat floppy. He grasped it between thumb
and index finger and demonstrated its mobility by sliding it back
completely. I saw that it did clear the glans and the rim, and that the
only thing keeping it from sliding all the way down his shaft was the
gee-string that connected it to the underside of the head. The rich
masculine aroma of his wet glans and foreskin filled the air.
       "This is really hot," he said, as our pricks began swelling. As
usual we were becoming aroused, and we urgently needed the relief we'd
find with each other. We'd become accustomed to our very satisfactory
sex sessions, and developed a strong emotional bond that accentuated our
sex by making it more meaningful.
       "You need to come first, since you've been waiting longer," I
said as I grasped his prick, stiff and already drooling thick clear syrup
from its slit. "I'll get you going with direct action on the head." I
began running my fingertips over his arrowhead tip, picking up lubricant
at the front and massaging it into the sides of the head. I returned to
the slit to wet my fingertips again, and now circled the rim, paying
special attention to its back-face, studded with many nerve endings. As
my fingers played over his glans Jerry began breathing in short shallow
gasps because the sensations were especially intense on his glossy red
tip. The lubricated ridges of my fingertips scraped the nerve endings in
the distended thin membrane sending ripples of joy into the engorged
head.
       "AH-AH-AH!" he went as I continued to work on his skinned-back
glans, rapidly moving my fingers from one spot to another to avoid tiring
out the nerve endings in any one spot. Every second brought him fresh
sensations, and I saw his body was tensing rapidly. His balls were
already tight, and the surface of his glans had already lost the last of
its sponginess, having hardened with excitement.
       Now his stomach muscles tensed involuntarily. Rich clear syrup
oozed from his slit, keeping my fingertips lubricated and filling the air
with a musky odor that was arousing to both of us. I saw his eyes close
and a second later he began grunting hard.
       "HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" he cried as I felt his arrowhead tip throb
between my fingers, followed by a thick white stream that jetted upward
and brought the sharp odor of chlorine to my nostrils. He grunted rapidly
as I swept my fingertips around the engorged glans, bringing forth
another heavy discharge that shot high into the air and fell back to wet
my hand and his prick. My fingertips danced over his engorged head,
sending heavy jolts of sensation into his prick and making his eyes
water.
       His tip throbbed again, and another white torrent slammed through
the lips of his slit, evidence of his need for the relief that I was
happy to provide. Now I lightened my touches, aware that his tip would
become super-sensitive within seconds and wanting to avoid giving him
distress. I pressed a fingertip lightly into the underside of his glans,
touching his hot spot and feeling the pulse of his urethra as another
stream rushed through it and out of his distended orifice.
       His discharges were weakening, but his spasms continued as he
drained himself. He cried out at the sweet intensity of the sensations,
helpless as he writhed on the bed. Now I'd stopped stroking his tip, and
just held his shaft tenderly as his glans continued to drool semen. His
discharges were no longer thick creamy white, but becoming more clear,
and I knew that he'd almost emptied himself of semen.
       I felt the hardness begin to leave his prick as he stopped
struggling, and his body began to relax after the fury of the orgasm. He
was very still, subdued by the aftershock, and I let him remain that way
for several minutes. Finally he opened his eyes and smiled at me.
       "Thanks so much, Jack. That was great." I was gratified that
he'd enjoyed the experience, knowing that this had brought us closer
both physically and emotionally. I felt his fingers closing around my
prick, and knew he was about to reciprocate.
       "Any time," I murmured, and then kissed him on the lips. I felt
him gently draw my foreskin back until the dome of my helmet was exposed,
and heard him comment:
       "You smell wonderful, Jack. I love the aroma of your cock." He
inhaled deeply and then brought my foreskin up again to form a pucker and
the end as it enveloped my glans. Now he drew it down again, but a bit
farther. He leaned over and I felt his warm lips brush my helmet.
       "I want to taste it," he said after the kiss. His words sent an
electric thrill through my body, a feeling of anticipation. I knew that
he intended to suck the cream from my prick, working his lips and tongue
on it until the helmet pounded against his tongue as it gushed white
streams into his mouth.
       Now he eased my foreskin slowly back until it rode over my flaring
rim, nerve endings stretching, and snapped down into the deep groove
behind the head. I felt his warm lips kiss the front dome, and then part
to slide smoothly over the body of my glans until they engulfed the
corona. I felt his tongue probing my slit, searching for a taste of my
salty syrup, as his lips locked behind my rim. His hand cupped my rapidly
tightening scrotum, fingers pressing into the tender flesh behind it.
       I was already primed from the excitement of having made him cream
only minutes ago, and ready to burst with two weeks' accumulation of
pent-up cream. I knew for sure that I wouldn't last long as I felt my
helmet engorging further inside his mouth as his tongue-tip drilled into
my gaping orifice. A drop of syrup crawled up my urethra and slowly
distended the lips of my orifice as it oozed between them.
       He began twisting his head to work his lips sideways around my
swollen corona, applying delicious friction to the exposed nerve endings.
The stimulation wasn't as intense as it might have been, for he
understood that I liked to prolong the feeling of anticipation just
before orgasm, and he wasn't trying to end it too soon for me. Still, I
was so excited that I felt my arousal mount as his lips worked over my
flange.
       His slow, measured stimulation produced a mild tickle in my rim, a
sensation that slowly grew more intense, and I felt a slight contraction
in the root of my shaft as more drops of clear syrup slipped into my
tube. I felt his fingers tighten around the base of my prick, clamping
the skin tightly back and compressing my veins to slow the return flow of
blood and ensure that my erection was at maximum hardness.
       I felt the congestion in my engorged helmet and this made the
nerve endings even more sensitive. I began to moan in response to the
sensations, and my crotch muscles tightened involuntarily despite my
effort to remain relaxed. The tickle in my corona intensified and spread
over the surface of my glans. His tongue-tip, probing my meatus, added to
my excitement, and I knew I was being drawn inexorably toward the brink.
It was now totally out of my control and I slid helplessly toward the
inevitable explosion.
       As my attention increasingly focused on the captivating sensations
in my prick, my awareness of the world outside my body dimmed. I was only
vaguely conscious that I was in the bedroom, instead concentrating on the
compelling tickle in my glans. Now the tickle changed to a hot tingle,
and I knew that this was it. Within a second I'd be tumbling into the
free-fall of orgasm.
       Now Jerry's mouth sucked hard on my glans and hot sparks of
sensation stabbed deeply into my helmet. My eyes closed and I cried out
in pure joy as a jolt of sensation shot down my shaft to the root and I
felt the heavy pounding of orgasm begin deep inside me. My prick root
contracted with a hot spasm and I felt a burning jet of cream sear its
way up my urethra. I grunted loudly as a second contraction expelled
another load that gushed from my throbbing prick into Jerry's mouth.
       My helmet was tingling and throbbing as the wild frenzy of orgasm
raged through my body, putting my mind on "HOLD" and making me cry out
helplessly. Another hard contraction went through my prick root, spewing
liquid fire that rushed up my tube. Jerry twisted his head again, but now
his soft lips felt like sandpaper on my corona, which was becoming
super-sensitive. He sensed this and stopped moving, merely pursing his
lips around my orifice to catch the remaining ejaculations.
       My jets weakened and turned into a steady seepage, which Jerry
licked and swallowed avidly. I felt him suck at my gaping orifice to
obtain the last drops as they drooled from my helmet. My breathing began
to slow, and I felt the tension leave my body. The aftershock hit me like
a sledgehammer, sending me into the usual daze, and I went totally limp.
       Now we embraced, arms locked around each other, face to face, his
lips brushing against mine. We looked into each others' eyes and knew
that we had strong ties that bound us to each other.
       "I'm really glad you helped me, Jack. This changed a lot for
me." We fall asleep together. Next morning as I awake I hear his voice:
       "We've got some good moments ahead, Jerry. Now that you can get
your foreskin back, maybe I can dock you."
       "I've heard of docking, but never did it," he said.
       "I'm sure I can dock you. Your glans is narrow and I think it
can easily fit into my foreskin." As I spoke I felt his penis stir
against my thigh. "Think you're ready now?" I asked.
       "Yeah, I think so. We're both hard from having to pee."
       "Okay, just slip your tip into my foreskin," I said, stabilizing
my erection. "Even though I'm hard I'm sure there's plenty of room
for you inside me." I reached down to grasp the edges of my foreskin,
stretching the orifice so that Jerry's arrowhead wedge would easily slip
into it. He slipped in along the top of my glans, his narrow tip leaking
lubricant as it slid along the broad upper surface of my helmet until I
felt it bump against my flaring ridge.
       I closed my fingers around the forward edge of my foreskin,
securing it around the bunched flesh behind his rim. A blissful look came
over his face.
       "I fit in there pretty well, don't I?" he asked.
       "I knew there was enough room for both of us," I answered.
       "It feels like I belong in there," he continued.
       "I know you do," I reassured him. "Now just relax and let
things happen." I began twisting my fist, taking my foreskin with it, to
give us that delicious sideways friction around both our tips. The
pressure made his tip slide sideways along the broad upper surface of
mine, and I knew that he was getting a lot of stimulation in the hot spot
under his glans, where his tightly-stretched gee-string was rubbing
against my helmet. My fingers were applying pressure to his rim through
my foreskin, hitting the many nerve endings that studded it.
       "Now that I'm able to get my skin back, I noticed that I've got
lots of little bumps along my rim, like you do," he said. "I think
they're very sensitive."
       "We've both got those, mainly because we're not cut," I
replied. "On a cut guy, they dry out and shrink, and become much less
sensitive." As I twisted my fist I felt him begin to thrust slightly
inside my hood, stretching the skin as the tip of his glans probed past
my corona.
       "It's good that my cock lubricates so much," he observed. "If
we were dry we would have come too quickly."
       "You're right. I'm glad we can hold off with all that lube,
even though our bladders are full. We'll enjoy the ride longer."
       "I want to enjoy it with you, Jack. "This is something special
mainly because I'm doing it with you. It's so good feeling my tip in
there, rubbing against yours inside your skin."
       "I'm glad you're inside me," I said. "I know that when you
shoot, your cream's going to shoot all over my helmet." We were both
tensing up, our sensations heightening as our tips continued to rub and
press against each other. Jerry hugged me around the shoulders, and now
my cheek was against his while farther down we were separated by the
length of our pricks.
       "My tip's starting to tickle," he announced.
       "So is mine, Jerry. We're getting close." My tickle began right
at the top, where his arrowhead was rubbing against my helmet.
       "This is so hot," he whispered, hugging me more tightly. I
nibbled at his earlobe, conscious of the intimacy of our intertwined
bodies.
       "My tip's really sensitive," he whispered. "I'm starting to
get that tingle." As he spoke his breathing increased and he began to
grunt. His thrusts into my foreskin grew more urgent. We were straining
against each other on the bed, knowing that the supreme moment was only
seconds away.
       "HUNH!" he grunted as I felt his hot hard tip throb against
mine. A moment later I felt a torrent of hot cream shoot from his glans,
filling the space behind my rim. This triggered my orgasm, and I felt the
sublime sensations as my prick root contracted, sending a stream of semen
hurtling up my tube. Jerry's tip throbbed again, and I felt his hot
juice swirling around my helmet, filling my foreskin and overflowing.
       Our throbbing tips pounded against each other in mindless release
as the frenzy of orgasm dominated our bodies. Jerry's pulsing prick sent
more hot torrents into my foreskin, distending it and then pouring out
the end, mixing with my copious streams. Joined at their tips, our pricks
shared the rapture of orgasm, hot and swollen as they unloaded against
each other.
       Now our streams relented, pulsing just as rapidly but with less
volume, as our orgasms tapered off. Our streams slowed to dribbles, and
my fist was soaked in semen like the sheet below it, the product of our
joyful discharges that left us drained and spent. Now we were both still,
enraptures by the blissful afterglow, comfortable in each others' arms,
sharing the warmth of our bonding.
       "It was so nice with you," Jerry said after several minutes.
       "It's going to continue being nice," I said. "We really belong
together." He kissed me on the lips and we clung to each other,
lovingly, confident in our union.

The end