Date: Thu, 14 Apr 2005 07:01:11 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jack Santoro <jackinnm@yahoo.com>
Subject: Jacking with Roger, Adult Friends, 1/1

Jacking With Roger
by Jackinnm@yahoo.com

I felt a familiar itch in my glans as I walked up to
Roger's door, a feeling that comes over me when I am
horny and anticipating release. As Roger and I had
planned this meeting a week ago, I had avoided orgasm
since to build up a load of sperm because I found my
climaxes always more intense and satisfying when I had
a large backlog of sperm to release. As I pushed the
doorbell, I was very conscious of my prick, with the
itch localizing in my corona and a drop of pre-come
parting the lips of my pee-hole and seeping between my
foreskin and cock-head.
Paul, a long-time friend and jacking partner, had
given me Roger's number and told him to anticipate a
call from me because Paul knew that Roger and I would
have a lot in common. We were about the same age, 50,
and both had foreskins that contributed greatly to our
sexual pleasure. When we'd spoken, Roger and I had
exchanged views and found that we shared the same
tastes in sex. This had made us eager to meet and
share orgams.
Roger was dressed only in boxer shorts when he opened
the door, and as I looked him over I noted that he was
somewhat shorter than my six feet, with a muscular
build that made me appear skinny by comparison. He was
balding, but his hair was more brown than mine, which
had begun graying a few years ago. A thick brown
mustache adorned his upper lip, contrasting with my
clean-shaven appearance, but we both wore eyeglasses.
His were horn-rimmed, while mine had thin metal
frames.
Roger led me into his bedroom without formalities,
where he immediately dropped his shorts and lay back
on his elbows. I immediately looked at his crotch, and
liked what I saw, a medium-sized cock resting limp on
a large ball bag. "That's a pretty prick," I said.
"Can I touch?" Roger nodded, and I picked up his limp
cock between two fingers as I sat down next to him on
the king-size mattress. I squeezed his glans through
the covering hood, noting that he had a well-defined
ridge that bulged through the thick foreskin. I
squeezed again, this time feeling an answering throb
as his bulbo-cavernal reflex kicked in. As his prick
began swelling, Roger said;
"I'm curious about you. Strip down and let me see." I
had my clothes and shoes off in less than a minute,
and lay down in a "69" position next to him. We didn't
intend to have oral sex, but knew that this position
provided us with the best view of each other's
crotches, placing them within easy reach as well.
Roger's cock was inches from my face, and I saw that
his foreskin had a dime-sized opening that revealed
the end of his red glans. Roger got a good look at my
long, tapering, funnel shaped foreskin that extended
about half an inch beyond the head.
"Wow, I like your long foreskin," he exclaimed as he
rolled the nipple between thumb and forefinger. As we
both were experienced with foreskins, we didn't try to
retract them immediately as do some guys unfamiliar
with how foreskins work and what feels good to an
intact prick. With one finger of his other hand, Roger
traced the outline of my corona, bulging through the
fleshy hood. Then he pinched my glans through the
covering skin, thumb on the top of my ridge and
forefinger digging into the sensitive triangle under
the head. My prick responded and began swelling.
Roger's foreskin began pulling back from the head, and
I saw that he had a strawberry shaped glans, something
that I didn't often see. It was narrow in front, and
tapered out to a thick ridge, much like a strawberry.
Most cock-heads are mushroom shaped or helmets like
mine. A few have other shapes, and the variety makes
the prick more interesting.
My prick expanded to its full six inches, but the
foreskin still covered the bulge of the glans. Roger's
cock was somewhat longer at full extension, about six
and a half, and his foreskin was now drawn tightly
back, exposing the wet red tip. When I encircled his
shaft with my hand and tugged forward gently, testing
the stretch of his foreskin, I found that I could pull
it forward enough to bump his corona.
"That's the way I usually do it," he said as I stroked
his hood back and forth a few times. He then began
pulling back on my foreskin, watching the nipple
expand as it rode over the swell of my purple glans.
When he had it all the way back he held it there,
exclaiming; "I like that cock-head. Helmets always
turn me on because I like the flaring ridge. So does
your long skin. I can get a lot of action with it, and
I bet the long strokes really do something for you."
"You're right," I said. "I like to take long, slow
strokes all the way back, and then push forward until
the head all covered." He pulled my foreskin forward
and gave it a little twist, producing extra sensations
in the glans. Most guys, cut or not, know that giving
their fist a little twist on the cock-head heightens
excitement.
"I brought a tape," I said, pointing to the
videocassette on top of my clothing beside the bed.
"Is it European?" he asked, and I knew he knew that
"European" was usually a connotation of
"foreskin-equipped," as few European men are
circumcised. We both enjoyed the vicarious stimulation
of watching intact guys stroking their foreskins to
bring on orgasm.
Hanging over the foot of the bed was a 32" TV, and a
VCR hung in a bracket below it. Roger inserted the
cassette, and we sat back to watch. He had ample
pillows, and we piled them against the headboard and
sat side by side. A stack of towels was on the corner
of the bed, and I admired Roger's foresight because I
knew we'd be needing them. Roger held the remote
control in his left hand and stroked my prick gently
with his right. My left fist wrapped around his turgid
shaft and bumped his corona rhythmically with the
skin. A drop of prick-honey appeared at the opening of
his glans, and I spread the slippery liquid around the
hole in small circles with my other forefinger. This
made Roger smile, and he squeezed my shaft hard.
The first actor, like all in this tape, was in his
early 20s and had a large, well-shaped dick. A thin
foreskin covered the well-defined helmet-head at the
end of his slightly upward-curving shaft, and we both
watched, fascinated, as the blond actor stroked his
hood lovingly up and down. When he finally came, he
shot long white jets at least a foot into the air.
Those who followed him were also chosen for their good
looks and attractive cocks, as well as their ability
to shoot thick jets. Each demonstrated different ways
of stimulating his foreskin, which added to our
enjoyment.
"Are you a shooter or a dribbler?" Roger asked me
after we'd been watching about a half-hour. "Most of
the time I dribble," I replied. "When I'm really
excited, or when I've got a big load waiting, I tend
to shoot."
"I'm a shooter most of the time," he said. "If I'm
tired, or if I've just shot a load an hour before,
I'll probably just dribble, although it still feels
good to me. Right now I know I'll shoot because I've
been saving up and action with another buy always
turns me on terrifically. I hope I make you shoot this
time."
"You probably will, Roger. I'm getting turned on from
holding your prick, as well as watching this tape." I
continued to stroke Roger's shaft, bumping his corona
each time. His cock was steadily drooling pre-come,
the wetness flowing over his swollen glans and down
onto my encircling fingers. He stopped the tape after
another half-hour and turned to me.
"I really need to come, Jack. I need to come now. I
can't wait any longer." His hand continued to pump my
cock, and I felt the urgency in his strokes.
"Okay, let me bring you to orgasm," I replied. "I can
tell you're close because your balls are already drawn
up tight, and I'll do what I do with my cock when I'm
this close." I drew back his foreskin as far as I
could, putting enough tension on his gee-string to
make the end of his glans dip down towards his balls.
Then I moved my hand forward again, bringing the skin
up to bump the swollen corona. Meanwhile, Roger had
spread a towel over his chest and abdomen.
I felt his hot cock in my hand, the shaft swelling to
its final volume and hardening even more in my fist as
he mounted the plateau of sensation. The red color of
his strawberry glans deepened, showing that he was
close to erupting. Roger 's eyes were fixed on his
cock and I knew his conscious mind was closing down,
all of his attention focusing on the pleasant
sensations in his prick. More slippery dew continued
to flow from the hole at the end of his turgid glans,
and I pulled his skin back as hard as I could, knowing
that the stretchy sensation was building his
excitement in a slow and controllable way.
I didn't want to bring on orgasm too quickly, as I
wanted him to enjoy the ride to the summit, so I kept
my strokes slow, making sure he felt every nuance of
sensation. I heard his breathing deepen to a rhythmic
"HAH, HAH, HAH" as I continued to stroke his rigid
cock, and I saw his eyes close as he withdrew into
himself, aware of nothing but the mounting sensations
in his crotch. His lips drew back from his teeth as I
brought him closer to the edge, and his last words
were whispered; "I feel it happening."
I knew what he meant, as the feeling of imminent
orgasm was like a slowly breaking wave when I used
this technique on myself. I lay alongside him, feeling
his body's warmth as I increased his sensations and
brought him nearer to the explosion. He felt it coming
in the distance, drawing closer, but it hadn't yet
overwhelmed him. There was still time to enjoy the
tickling feelings before they changed to hot throbs
and made him totally helpless. A slight throb in his
shaft was followed by a pulse of clear dew from his
come-hole. I bumped his ridge again, then twisted my
fist to enhance his sensations before drawing back and
tugging his glans down again. I felt another slight
throb, and this time the pulse of juice from his
orifice was slightly milky. This told me he was right
on the edge, and his sperm valves were leaking from
the pressure. Now, with his ridge completely exposed,
I triggered his storm by giving him a few quick pumps
before the sensations faded.
I heard him go "HAHHHHHH!" as I pushed him headlong
over the cliff, and I felt the hard throb in his cock
as the first thick jet shot high into the air to land
on his chest. His oval come-hole distended further as
another thick jet erupted from it, again shooting high
onto his body. Roger cried out in joyful agony as the
rush of hot sensations overwhelmed him, and I felt his
body shudder against mine because he was having a
full-body orgasm.
I really enjoyed having my hand around a man's cock,
giving him the most delicious sensations he could
experience. My cock was hot and hard, pressed between
my stomach and Roger's hip. It was lucky that Roger
had let go of my prick as he began coming, because he
would have made me explode right then, and my cock
would have been pouring its white fluid all over his
body. As it was, I was careful not to rub my prick
against his flesh, because that would have brought me
too close to coming.
I saw Roger's jets weaken, and then change to a
dribble that poured from his hole. I stopped massaging
his cock, because I thought this was the point at
which it would become too sensitive, and further
friction would cause only distress, not pleasure.
Roger sighed deeply as the last drop emerged from his
glans, and I felt his prick begin to soften. We lay
utterly still for a minute as his breathing returned
to normal, then he rolled up the towel and wiped his
prick with it. He then leaned over and kissed me on
the forehead, saying; "That was wonderful, Jack. I
hope I can do as well for you now that it's your
turn."
His hand moved to my prick as I lay back on the
pillows, watching him pump my foreskin up and down in
long slow strokes. I consciously relaxed all of my
muscles, trying to avoid the tension that would speed
the onset of climax. I savored every stroke, every
sensation, because one of my great pleasures is
feeling a man's loving hand on my cock, massaging and
stroking it to make me feel good. Roger paused to
spread a towel over my body to catch the juice.
"Ever have a snake-bite?" he asked as he paused in his
stroking. I remembered my old friend Stan giving me a
snake-bite on my cock,
 which had made me shoot intensely. "Yeah, I like it a
lot," I replied. "Okay, I'll do you that way, make
sure you shoot instead of dribbling." Roger clasped my
penis between the open palms of his hands, moving them
in opposite directions as if starting a fire with a
stick. My foreskin twisted sideways with his hands, in
one direction, then the other, rubbing over my glans
and sending thrills through my cock. This was one of
the most intense methods of stimulating a cock, I
knew, because it provided friction, pressure, and
tension to hit all receptors.
I didn't secrete as much lubricant as Roger, but could
see the drops emerging as he worked on my penis. His
hands had pulled my foreskin back enough so that I saw
the end of my glans through a dime-sized opening, and
I watched each drop emerge from the teardrop shaped
orifice and spread between hood and head. The extra
lubrication helped me keep from popping right then,
because Roger's hands were sending waves of pleasure
through my prick.
His hands moved faster on my cock, working and
twisting the foreskin over the head, and I caught my
breath at the intensity of the sensations. My balls
had been tight against my body since before he'd
begun, and now I felt the pressure in my shaft and
head build up as they became more engorged with the
anticipation of orgasm. I was on the plateau, and
Roger noted this;
"You're cock-head's swollen. I can feel it. You're
almost there." The itch in my corona had returned, and
Roger's stroking wasn't relieving it this time. He
stepped up the pace again, and I felt the itch change
to a very pleasant tickle, filling my entire ridge
with sensation. I stared at my prick, now the center
of my attention, and felt my conscious mind begin to
shut down as Roger's had a few minutes ago. My prick
was the center of my being, hot and swollen with
stimulation, and the tickle in my ridge spread all
over the head. My breathing was gasping, and I felt
the sensations rushing in on me as Roger drove me into
orgasm. The tickle in the head had changed to a
tingle, and then the hot thrill of orgasm overwhelmed
me and I cried out in agonized ecstasy as I felt the
heavy pounding begin in my cock-root.
I was helpless as my eyes closed and I became only
aware of the rush of sensation as the first burning
jet shot up my tube and turned the corner where the
tube bent upward inside the glans. I was feeling every
twinge, every nuance of sensation as time expanded in
my altered state of consciousness. The fluid burned as
it erupted from my tip, then another contraction deep
inside pumped another jet up my cock as I groaned in
delight.
Roger's hands kept wringing my cock, producing more
spasms in my cock-root, and I felt only the delightful
tickling of orgasm, an intense feeling that had me
gasping and groaning as more spurts erupted from my
cock. Roger said something in the distance, but I
couldn't understand him because my entire world was in
my cock, and nothing from outside penetrated.
My spasms were less intense now, and I became aware
that Roger was still next to me, and murmuring in my
ear. "You really came, Jack," were the first words I
heard. "Your prick shot its loads high, and only now
is it dribbling." I opened my eyes and saw white
rivulets on the blue towel covering my chest. "Man you
were really shooting," Roger continued, "and I was
glad to make it happen for you." I gripped his
shoulders tightly and pulled him to me, kissing him on
the forehead and both cheeks before letting go.
Roger helped me roll up the towel and wipe the residue
from my cock. We were both exhausted from the intense
orgasms, and developing strong appetites. Roger
suggested going out to eat and after a quick shower,
we did.

The end.