Date: Sun, 26 Feb 2006 10:35:00 -0800 (PST)
From: Jack Santoro <jackinnm@yahoo.com>
Subject: Exploring, Part 6, Adult Friends, 6/?

Exploring, Part 6
By Jackinnm@yahoo.com

	Because of conflicting work schedules the four of us
did not meet for another three months. In the
interval, Chris and I got together a couple of times,
and I took great interest in the progress of his
restoration. One evening we compared our reconstructed
foreskins:
	"Your hood covers the head completely," I remarked
after he'd taken the tape ring off.
	"Yeah, but it still skins back when I get hard." As
if to illustrate this point, his prick began to swell,
and I watched his big mushroom glans crawl out of the
new hood. At the sight mine began swelling as well,
and his fingers closed around it.
	"I think you're ready to use an insert to put more
tension on the skin when you tape up," I said.
	"I really want to get more skin, like yours," Chris
said. "I'd like to have enough so that the head stays
covered even when I'm hard." He began stroking my
foreskin slowly, gently uncovering the big purple
helmet and making my nerve endings sing with delight.
I clasped his prick but had to use a different stroke,
urging the stretched-back foreskin up over the crown
to compress the nerve endings.
	"I'd like to see you with a long tapering foreskin,"
I said. "You'll really like it when your foreskin's
long enough to form a nipple beyond the head." Neither
of us had come in a week and we stood there in the
bathroom, where we'd been about to shower, urgently
needing release.
	"I can get some plastic inserts at my store," Chris
said as I pumped his hood over the dark swollen
mushroom. "They're made just for stretching the
foreskin by a company down in New Orleans and a set
comes with three different lengths. I get them at a
discount." Chris worked in an adults store, which is
where I'd met him.
	"That's really good," I said. "Do you sell a lot of
them?
	"Not a lot, I guess. Maybe two or three sets a month.
I'm not the only cut guy who wants his skin back." His
breathing was now heavy, his excitement fueled by the
discussion, and I noticed that his glans had become
darker like mine. My excitement was near the peak as
well, and I felt a tickle in my corona.
	"I'm getting close," I said as I turned to face the
sink. I'd be coming any moment and I didn't want to
spill my cream on the floor.
	"I know you are. "Just let me pump that skin to make
you come." His fingers tightened on my prick and he
stepped up the pace. The tickling sensation had spread
all over my helmet and was more intense now. "I want
you to come first," he continued.
	"Any second," I muttered through gritted teeth as I
grasped the edge of the sink with my free hand while
continuing to pump his rock-hard prick with my right.
My knees were braced against the cabinet because I
knew that they would buckle when the orgasm hit me.
	"Your eyes just closed," Chris whispered in my ear as
his other hand cupped my tight sac. The tickle had
changed into a hot tingle that filled me glans with
sensations and was spreading down my shaft. My jaw
clenched and I felt my crotch muscles tightening.
	"I felt your tip throb through the skin," he said. My
helmet was straining, aching for release, and when
Chris twisted my foreskin over it the dam broke. A hot
spark shot down my shaft and I grunted loudly as the
heavy pounding of orgasm began deep inside me. The
first torrent of burning lava poured out of my
prostate and pumped up my tube as I cried out in
joyful agony.
	Now Chris pulled my hood back hard and I felt his
fingers encircle my slippery wet helmet to twist
around my corona, triggering another hot shot that
poured up my penis to explode from my pouting slit.
Several more followed, draining me, and when the last
spasm had wracked my insides I realized that Chris had
stopped stroking me. He knew how super-sensitive my
glans becomes during orgasm and didn't want to cause
me distress.
	"I hung on to the edge of the sink as the dazed
feeling crawled over me, unable to concentrate even
though I knew that I had to give Chris the relief he
craved. After a couple of minutes I recovered and
resumed stroking his prick, rolling the newly-grown
foreskin over his bloated purple corona. I saw his
glossy mushroom tip straining with the blood
distending it. He responded immediately, bracing his
knees against the bathroom cabinet.
	"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" he grunted as the first shock of
orgasm hit him, and I saw a thick rope of white cream
shoot from his long slit to splatter against the far
side of the sink. Chris staggered as his knees
buckled, but I pressed my body against his to brace
him against the cabinet, and he shot again. His semen
gave off a strong chlorine odor, more than mine, and I
gave his thick hood another pump to bring forth the
third string of white cream.
	Now I stopped because I knew that his glans, like
mine, would become super-sensitive within a second or
two. I felt his shaft throb between my clasping
fingers as another torrent of thick viscous fluid came
out. Another ejaculation was less forceful than the
others, although his prick throbbed just as hard, but
now his throbs weakened as the remaining fluid oozed
from the lips of his long slit.
	We showered and after we'd dried each other Chris
pulled his newly-grown foreskin forward again. I
peeled off a strip of tape and wrapped it around the
puckered end to keep the skin stretched over his
glans. We parted after promising to arrange another
meeting in a few weeks. This time his cousin Jerry and
Jerry's son Eric would attend.
	Several weeks later they all showed up at my place
one Saturday morning. We all had news to relate and,
as we stripped down in my bedroom, we eyed each other
carefully. I saw that Chris seemed to have extra bulk
under his foreskin and when he removed the tape a
yellow blunt-nosed plastic cone slipped out from the
end.
	"I see you've been using the inserts," I remarked.
	"Yeah, and I've already got half an inch extra
length," he replied. I could see that, even without
the tape to hold it in place, his new hood extended
beyond the end of his big mushroom tip.
	"Eric's started taping," Jerry said, and I shifted my
gaze to his son's crotch. There was a tight tape ring
holding the pucker of his skin in place over the big
helmet-shaped glans, and he removed it as I watched.
The tight skin quickly slid back to reveal the bulky
purple glans, setting in a wrinkled ring behind his
corona.
	"See, I've already got enough skin to fill the groove
behind my head," he pointed out proudly. "I was cut
tight, but now I've got some slack, even without the
tape."
	"Keep it up and you'll have a new foreskin like
Chris," I said to encourage him. "Has it gotten more
sensitive yet?"
	"Not that I've noticed," he replied. "I've only been
taping for a few weeks."
	His father Jerry's foreskin hung down two inches past
the end of his glans, and I was sure that Eric envied
him for it. Now I led the way out to the hot tub and
we got into it. Spring was here and we knew that we
wouldn't shiver when we stepped out.
	"Another doctor got shot," Eric said.
	"Fuck, you didn't do it," Jerry exploded.
	"No I didn't Dad. I saw it on the news a couple of
days ago. It was a Doctor Smith in Michigan. That's a
thousand miles from here."
	"I saw the report on the wire service," I added. "The
cops said he was shot with a .300 Winchester Magnum,
center of the chest, and it almost turned him inside
out. That's a hell of a powerful round. I checked out
the doctor on the Internet and found that he'd
recently given a newspaper interview that he'd
performed more circumcisions than any two other
doctors at the hospital where he works."
	"Did the doctor die?" asked Chris with a malicious
grin.
	"Fuck yeah!" said Jerry. "A Winchester Magnum throws
a 180 grain bullet out at more than 3,000 feet a
second. They load hollow-points, real heavy-duty
stuff."
	"Well, let's hope he's gone up to that great Gomco
factory in the sky," added Chris, still grinning.
	"All of these doctors got shot with different guns,"
I said. "That's good. That's going to avoid the cops
linking the shootings, even if there is a connection."
	"There is a connection," said Eric. "They're all
circumcisers. They all chop little babies."
	"We know that," Chris said. "Maybe nobody else knows
that." I now spoke again:
	"I think they were done by different people, what
cops call `copy-cat' crimes. If the same shooter did
all or some of them, he was smart in using different
firearms. The ATF traces bullets, and has a computer
database on the calibers used in different shootings.
They might make the connection if two or more doctors
had been shot with the same caliber."
	"That's something else these shooters have to watch
out for," said Jerry. "I hope they don't get caught."
	"The shooters also used different modus operandi," I
said. "All of these circ doctors got shot in different
situations and locales. One got shot in front of his
home. Another got it in a parking lot. This Smith guy
got shot as he was leaving the apartment of his gay
lover. That's certainly going to throw up a
smokescreen, especially as he's married, got three
kids, and his wife never knew."
	"That's a hoot," Jerry laughed. "Shows these circ
doctors really have something funny in their brains."
	"I think you're right, Jerry," I said. "When the cops
investigated the lives of these guys to try to find a
motive, they uncovered all sorts of things. One was
over-prescribing stimulants to a select clientele.
Another couple of them were cheating on their wives,
one with a woman and Smith with a man. Another was
involved in a money-laundering scheme. Not one of them
was a clean-living, hard-working doctor."
	"What can you expect?" asked Chris, still smiling and
enjoying the bubbles coursing up through the hot
water. We were all relaxed and happy, relishing the
moment and thinking of the intense pleasures yet to
come this morning. In anticipation, we were all partly
tumescent.
	After almost a half hour we got out. Both Jerry and I
had to pee, and we didn't want to do it in the hot
tub. We each grabbed a towel from the stack I'd placed
next to the hot tub and began drying each other.
	"That water made your foreskin nice and loose," Jerry
observed as he dried me. "It's usually so tight but
here it's gaping. I can see the end of your helmet
inside."
	"It made your balls dangle even more than usual," I
countered.
	"Yeah, Dad's balls always hung low," confirmed Eric.
"Mine do too. I'm a lot like him."
	"Eric's got a bigger helmet," observed Chris. "It's
exactly the same shape as Jerry's but a lot bigger."
	"Jack's got a big helmet too," said Eric. "I saw what
happened last time. His skin was tight, but the shape
of the helmet showed anyway. After his skin was back,
it really swelled up."
	"Our tips all swell just before we come," said Chris.
"Even yours, Eric. Yours also gets shiny, even though
it's normally dry and leathery because you've been
cut." Now we were in the bathroom and Jerry and I
stepped up to the sink, skinning back in preparation.
	Jerry's foreskin was gathered in thick rolls behind
his crown, and he had to use both hands to keep it
back, as it tended to roll forward over his small
glans. Mine, on the other hand, locked back behind my
flaring corona, and stayed there until I pushed it
forward again.
	Neither of us was full-hard, as this would have made
it difficult to pee, and we easily let go our streams.
Mine was thicker because of my pouting meatus, and
Jerry's was thin because of his tight slit. It also
seemed to have more velocity, as it splashed against
the far side of the sink. When we'd finished we
carefully milked down our pricks to expel the last
drops, as we didn't want any oozing residue gathering
under our hoods.
	In the bedroom Chris was holding up a vibrator he'd
brought along for Eric to see. He explained its
function:
	"This bell-shaped attachment fits on the stud of the
vibrator, and it fits over the head of your cock. When
you push the slide switch you can select either low or
high intensity. The sensations are very intense, and
you'd better be sitting or lying down the first time
you try this. The first time, I was standing and my
knees buckled when I turned it on, and I didn't come
for another minute."
	"How did you find the right size bell for my tip?"
Eric asked him.
	"I didn't," Chris responded. "These vibrators come
with just one bell, a sort of one-size-fits-all. The
bell has slits cut in the sides so it expands to fit
larger heads, and a rubber band holds the sections
together around your rim. This isn't very good, partly
because the skin of your mushroom can get pinched. I
made several custom bells from silicon rubber, in
different sizes. The one here is what I made for my
tip. It just might be a close enough fit for you,
since our tips are about the same size. Want to try
it?" Eric lay down on the bed, allowing Chris clear
access to his half-hard penis.
	"Now I'll put it over the head first," Chris said as
he picked up Eric's prick with one hand and eased the
bell over the helmet-shaped glans with the other.
"Someone want to plug it in for me?" I reached over
and inserted the plug into a wall socket beside the
bed.
	"This works really well on circumcised guys because
the nerves at the surface have been dried out and
desensitized from not having skin to protect them. The
vibrations reach down through the surface and hit the
deep-seated nerve endings. That's a sensation you
probably never felt before."%0
A	"I'd used a vibrator a few years ago," I
contributed. "The sensations are really intense."
	"Good thing you're lying down," Chris said. "You
might fall down when I switch it on. Ready?" Eric
nodded, and Chris as moved his finger on the slide
switch the vibrator began to buzz.
	"Oooohhhh," moaned Eric softly as we saw his body
tense suddenly. His fists clenched and his jaw
tightened as the sensations bored deeply into his
rapidly-swelling prick. The shaft straightened and
stiffened to full erection within seconds and only the
back face of his corona was visible under the rim of
the vibrating bell.
	"Just try to relax," I coached him. "This works very
fast and you'll be coming in just a minute. The more
relaxed you can stay the better it'll feel when you
come." I knew that Eric was trying to remain relaxed,
but the vibrations were so intense that his legs
tightened up anyway.
	"I'm going to turn it to `HIGH' now," said Chris, and
I saw his finger move the switch. The buzzing became
louder and deepened in tone, and Eric grunted as the
mind-blowing sensations poured into his swollen
helmet. I knew from my own experience with vibrators
that the glorious buzzing was shooting through his
glans and down his shaft, reaching all of the buried
nerve endings and the nerves themselves. His eyes
closed as his legs began twitching uncontrollably.
	"AAAAAHHHHHH!" he cried out as the orgasm overtook
him. Chris held Eric's shaft tightly but it still
jerked in his fist as Eric poured out his first load.
Eric cried out again, totally helpless and captivated
by the fury of his electronically-induced orgasm, and
we watched his prick throb between Chris's fingers as
a thick ooze of cream came out of the bottom of the
bell. The vee-groove  on the underside of his helmet
made a natural channel through which poured his
discharges, and Eric convulsed again as he sent
another torrent of cream up his prick.
	Eric's face was now contorted in agony and Chris
removed the bell from the throbbing glans. The dark
purple helmet continued to spurt as Eric wasn't dry
yet. It was coated with his semen, and the heavy
chlorine odor now hit us. The thick white juice
continued to flow, although not as intensely as
before, pouring down to wet Chris's encircling
fingers.
	Now Eric's teardrop shaped meatus merely dribbled,
and we saw his body begin to relax. Chris held the
prick straight up so that it wouldn't flop onto his
stomach, and with his other hand he wrapped a paper
tissue around the shaft to absorb the cream.
	Eric was now utterly relaxed and silent, weak and
inert from the biological storm that had ravaged his
body. His prick began to soften and I brought back a
washcloth wet with warm water from the bathroom. Chris
carefully wrapped Eric's prick in the cloth, handling
it tenderly to avoid scraping the sensitive glans with
the rough terrycloth.
	"That was a sight to see," Jerry said. "I always like
to see my son bust his nut."
	"Yeah, I guess you must have jacked off with him like
I did with you," Chris said to him.
	"Well, we jacked off together, and stroked each
other's cocks too. It was really special, feeling
Eric's cock jerk in my hand and seeing it shoot. Did I
tell you that for his 19th birthday I gave him a
special present? I docked him."
	"No, I didn't know that," Chris responded.
	"He'd always had a thing about foreskins since he
found out his had been taken away from him. He'd
always looked at my cock when we were in the bathroom,
and when he got ot be of legal age I figured I'd give
him a chance to find out what a foreskin felt like."
Jerry's prick was rock-hard now, as were ours, from
having watched Eric blow his load, and we all needed
release. We sat side by side on the bed and stroked
our foreskins. Jerry's hood, being the longest,
allowed the longest strokes, but I wasn't far behind
him.
	"Your tip's the most sensitive, Jerry," Chris told
him. You'll come first."
	"I know," Jerry replied. "I need to shoot my juice,
but when I'm at the edge, will you stroke it for me?
It'll feel better that way."
	"Okay," Chris replied. He was sitting next to Jerry
and had merely to reach over to clasp his prick. We
watched Jerry build himself up to the edge, and then
Jerry pulled his foreskin all the way back to bunch
behind the rim of his small helmet. He let go and
Chris's fingers closed around his thick shaft, pumping
the long foreskin up and down to bring on orgasm.
Jerry grunted loudly and I saw a thin but powerful
stream of white spurt from his tight meatus, almost
too quickly for me to catch it in the towel I'd
prepared.
	Jerry grunted again as his hips bucked, pumping
another thin hot jet from the lips of his tiny slit. I
felt the heat of his cream through the towel as I
smelled the chlorine odor that began to fill the room.
Chris now twisted his fist on Jerry's prick to enhance
the sensations, and I saw the foreskin slide smoothly
around his glans, wet with natural lubricant. Jerry
howled and flopped back on the bed, his head resting
on his son's thigh. Eric was still torpid from his
exertions, and his eyes were still closed. I wondered
if he was even aware that his father was close to him,
releasing his cream as he'd done a couple of minutes
earlier.
	Now Chris released the still throbbing prick, pulling
the long hood forward to protect the head, and I
enveloped it in the towel to catch any further
discharges. Jerry's chest was heaving as he grunted
his way through the last spasms of orgasm, and soon he
was still.
	"I think you're next, Chris," I said. I'd been
lightly stroking Chris's foreskin up and down the
bloated mushroom tip while he'd been working on Jerry,
and I saw that he was dark purple, ready to pop.
	"Yeah, do me," Chris gasped, caught up in the
excitement. He'd just stroked his cousin to orgasm,
watched him spew, and had felt the heavy throbs in his
prick as it had spit jet after jet in glorious
release. His mushroom felt rock-hard through the
enveloping skin as I stroked it over his tortured
nerve endings, and his balls were tight against his
body.
	Chris didn't wait for climax. He lay down on the edge
of the bed, his head on Eric's chest, as I pumped
away. Clear fluid was leaking between the lips of his
long slit, lubricating the glans and foreskin and
making the sensations mother. I saw his legs begin
twitching as his body tensed for the impending
explosion.
	"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" Chris grunted as I felt the first
heavy throb in his prick. I aimed is prick up toward
his chest and the first heavy jet described an arc in
the air. His prick throbbed again, and another white
stream followed the first. We had his eyes open,
staring in rapt fascination at his throbbing, spurting
prick as I twisted his hood around the thick rim to
bring on another spasm. After the fourth jet I stopped
stroking him, aware that his glans would become overly
sensitive in another second or two, just squeezing his
shaft to keep up the stimulation.
	When Chris was finally still, I heard Eric speak:
	"I saw that, Jack. Chris was really into it with your
hand helping him. He really shot a lot." My own prick
was rock-hard, my foreskin all the way forward and
closed over the blunt front dome. Eric eased himself
out from under the others and now I felt his warm
fingers closing around my foreskin.
	"I'd like to finish you off now. I want to feel your
skin sliding over that big helmet and I want to make
your cock throb." I lay down in the space he'd just
vacated and let myself go. I knew that I was in good
hands because Eric was so enthusiastic about
foreskins.
	"Go ahead," I said. "Finish me off. Your fingers fell
so good around my prick." I felt the delicious sliding
sensation as he stripped my hood all the way down to
bare my helmet to the groove behind the corona, and
then fully forward to shroud my big front dome.
	"I can feel how hard your tip is through the skin,"
he commented as he continued to pump my foreskin,
fueling my fire. "The tip's so dark now, especially
that big rim." His fingers were causing a tickle to
build up in my corona, and it quickly spread to the
entire helmet. I closed my eyes.
	Eric gave my foreskin a hard twist as he bumped it up
over my rim, and I felt the warning spasm deep inside
me. Now the tickle had changed into a hot tingle and I
began moaning helplessly. My glans ached for release,
almost bursting from the pressure of the blood that
filled it, and the hot tingle raced down my shaft to
trigger my orgasm.
	I felt the heavy pounding begin deep inside me as the
firt torrent poured from my prostate, a high pressure
jet that shot up my shaft and slammed through the lips
of my pouting slit. Eric now drew my foreskin down to
uncover my helmet completely, and I felt the increased
tension as the nerve endings stretched, triggering
another hot spasm. The second torrent burned its way
up my tube like hot lava, and I cried out in joyful
agony.
	My mind was on "HOLD" as the hot fury of the orgasm
wracked my body, and I floated on a cloud of
sensations. My prick throbbed again and another stream
of cream shot thought it to the open air. I heard
myself crying incoherently in the distance as another
torrent.
	Now Eric held my foreskin back tightly to stretch the
nerve endings without risking over-stimulating my
tortured glans as my orgasm dwindled to a weak oozing.
As my orgasm faded I became aware that Eric was
speaking to me:
	"That was beautiful, man. That big helmet of yours
was so dark and shiny, and the jets just shot out of
it. I thought you were a dribbler, but man, you shot."
	"That's because you did such a good job on him, son,"
Jerry's voice cut through the haze that surrounded me.
"Chris told us Jack was a dribbler, but when he's
really hot he shoots." I opened my eyes and saw them
looking at me.
 	"Eric really enjoyed watching you shoot your load,"
Jerry said to me. "Maybe it's because you've got a
nice big tip, like he does."
	"Sure, Dad. Jack's tip looks a lot like mine, but
he's got skin over it."
	"You will too, and not too long from now," I assured
him. "Just keep at it, the way Chris is doing, and
you'll have lots of foreskin." I got up and went into
the bathroom, followed by the others. We showered,
lingering sensually under the hot water, letting the
urine flush out our pricks, and then we dried each
other and went into my living room. I made a detour to
the kitchen to get us some cans of Pepsi and we sat
down to watch the weekend news on TV.
	The talking head informed us that the lead story this
Saturday morning was that a doctor had been shot down
right in our own city only a hour ago while getting
out of his car in a shopping center parking lot. Our
eyes turned to Eric, although we knew that he could
not have been with us and across town pulling the
trigger at the same time. He looked back at us and
grinned.
	"Wish it had been me," he told us. "I would have
loved to shoot that doctor if it's for the reason I
think it is."
	The announcer went on to tell us that, according to
police, the doctor had been shot in the back of the
head with a .22 Long Rifle bullet probably fired from
a target rifle.
	"Boy, I'd sure like to know more about that," Jerry
said as the others nodded in agreement.
	"Well, I'll see what else turns up when I get into
the office Monday morning," I said.

Continued in Part 7