Date: Tue, 22 Aug 2006 11:42:11 -0700 (PDT)
From: jack santoro <jacksantoro@yahoo.com>
Subject: Lawwsuit, Part 4, Adult Friends, 4/?

                                Lawsuit, Part 4

                            By Jacksantoro@yahoo.com



       Two days later Vic was back in town and he came to my house that
evening. We ate sandwiches I'd prepared. He was eager to learn what had
happened with the Code Enforcement Team. I filled him in, and he
expressed satisfaction with the developments.
       "I'd like to see the team find something serious, enough to let
me evict these bastards," he said.
       "Sooner or later something's going to happen," I said.
       By tacit agreement we got up and put our plates in the sink and
then went to the bedroom to strip down. We both knew from extensive
experience that an orgasm was a good way to end the day. We were already
half-hard by the time we got naked, and the cores of our pricks were
already extending and filling up our foreskins.
       We both had long nippled foreskins shrouding our large helmets,
and the outlines of our tips were very visible through the thick covering
skin. I grasped the end of his prick as we faced each other and saw that
the thick pucker at the end of his hood was already moist. Vic had always
secreted much more natural lubricant than I, and he often squeezed his
foreskin to drip some onto my glans.
       "I'm glad we never got cut," he said fervently.
       "I know," I replied. "Percy and Rocco envy us, I'm sure." We
sat on the side of the queen size bed, our hands working on each others'
pricks. Vic's was very wet, and the tight foreskin slid easily as I
began pushing it down to uncover the long slit that bisected his front
dome.
       "Your skin's always harder to slide than mine," he observed as
he worked my hood back to expose my orifice. "I guess it's because you
don't have as much lube as I do." I nodded in agreement as I gently
jiggled his foreskin over the head to give him small jolts of sensation.
       "Your balls are already tight," I observed. His scrotum had
already drawn up against his body, as he had not come for several days,
and was eager to dissipate the tensions of the day.
       "Yeah, I'm really tense, Jack. It's been a long day for me,
because I've been in a series of meetings most of the day."
       "That means you need relief, and fast," I said as I gave him
longer strokes, baring his swollen glans right down to the rim before
pulling the thick fleshy hood up to form a pucker in front of the helmet
it concealed. Vic stroked mine back all the way, very slowly, and we
watched the skin stretch as it rode over the crown and snapped down into
the deep groove behind it.
       "Let me give you some lube," he said as he lay down and turned
toward me. I lay down beside him and he thrust forward so that the blunt
end of his helmet touched mine. He ran a finger up the underside of his
shaft and a stream of warm clear fluid poured onto my glans. I released
his prick and he moved his large helmet in small circles around mine,
spreading the thick viscous fluid to coat my glans. Now he pulled my
foreskin forward again and it slid easily on a thick coat of lube.
       "There, that made it slide more easily," he said as he gave my
helmet a squeeze through its protective cover.
       "Now that we've taken care of that let me give you relief," I
said. "You need it fast, and I'm going to give you a finger job." I
stripped his foreskin back all the way, until it bunched in a thick
fleshy roll in the groove behind his corona. Then I grasped the base of
his prick with my left hand and pulled down farther, stretching the skin
back onto the shaft. It slid easily because Vic's foreskin was slightly
looser than my tight one. This also put tension on his gee-string, the
isthmus of skin connecting the foreskin to the underside of his glans,
making it dip down.
       Vic's wet glossy helmet gleamed in the soft room light, and I
began the finger job, carefully caressing the hard, sensitive surface
with the fingertips of my right hand. I knew that this direct action
produced intense and exquisite sensations on the uncircumcised glans. As
I began caressing him he rolled onto his back, enjoying the stimulation.
He propped his head up on two pillows to watch the action.
       "You've got a beautiful helmet," I said as I massaged the nerve
endings in his front dome and then moved down to his rim. "It's already
pretty hard, not spongy the way it was a minute ago."
"This is getting me really hot," he whispered as my fingers sent waves
of sensation into the tender nerve endings. Now his helmet had turned a
darker purple as more blood had rushed into it. I stroked him a little
faster with my fingertips, working around his rim and the deep groove
behind it to reach nerve endings that rarely saw daylight, and he began
gasping.
"Huh, huh, huh, huh," he went as each touch built up the tension in his
body. We both knew that direct action on a tender and sensitive helmet
was almost unbearable because of the sensitivity, and that the onset of
orgasm would be irresistible. His jaw had dropped and he was staring
fixedly at his prick, where my fingers were sliding over the glossy wet
surface of his glans.
"I'm keeping my fingers moving," I commented, "So as not to tire out
the nerve endings in any one spot. Concentrating on just one area of his
glans would dull its sensitivity, we'd learned from experience.
Vic's shaft was rock-hard between my clenched fingers holding the skin
back, and I kept my fingers moving around the engorged head. I traced
small circles around the long slit, which was weeping copious prick tears
to keep the helmet lubricated, and then worked down the side, rotating my
hand so that my fingertips stroked the glans sideways.
Vic's gasps were louder now as the tension built in his body. He was
holding himself rigidly, trying to remain still and relaxed, but the
exquisite caresses pushed him inexorably up the incline. His helmet was
very wet under my fingers, and now I placed my thumb squarely on his
flaring corona as my index finger found the hot spot in the triangular
groove under his glans. This was where the gee-string connects to the
helmet, and was super-sensitive. His prick jerked when I pressed my
fingertip into his gee-string, and I massaged it quickly for several
seconds, feeling the tension build in his body.
Before I tired his nerve endings, I moved down to his rim again. The back
face of his large flaring rim was studded with little bumps, the bumps of
sensation filled with delicate nerve endings, and I worked these with all
five fingers, sending messages of exquisite joy into his straining
helmet. I saw his stomach muscles tighten, and his legs began trembling
slightly. Pre-come juice flowed steadily from his long slit, lubricating
my fingertips. I knew I had him right on the edge, where I wanted him.
I slowed my caresses to prolong the moment of anticipation as long as
possible before pushing over the brink. Vic was totally captivated by the
intense sensations, unable to speak but only moan "Huh, huh, huh." I
carefully brought my fingers up the taper of his hard, swollen helmet,
working towards the tip, as a surge of clear lubricant erupted from his
slit to fall back onto his glans and stream down the shaft. At this
point, I calculated that he had had enough, and I grasped his helmet
firmly in my fingertips and began a rapid twisting motion.
I heard him cry out as I felt his hot hard glans throb between my
fingertips and his shaft pulsed in my clenched fist. A long stream of
semen surged from his slit and shot onto his stomach. I kept up the
motion, my fingertips dancing over his straining helmet, drawing forth
another long rope of white, creamy juice as Vic howled in pure ecstasy.
Vic's howls of joyous agony filled the room and I felt his straining
helmet throb again as another long jet erupted from it.
It was a joyful moment for me, too, because I knew exactly what he was
feeling: the glans-tingling sensations, the hard contractions in the root
of his prick, and the erotic tickling as the hot jets surged up his
urethra to slam through the lips of his slit. I remembered vividly the
first time another friend had stimulated my prick this way years ago,
recalling the way I'd writhed, howled, and throbbed as my entire insides
seemed to be extruding through my prick, leaving me utterly drained at
the end.
Now I removed my fingers from Vic's straining glans because I knew that
it had become hyper-sensitive, but I maintained my grip on his shaft,
keeping tension on the skin to stretch the nerve endings and make the tip
of his helmet bow down. Another hot jet shot from his orifice, falling
onto his stomach, and then another as he continued to tremble and howl.
Pools of cream had collected on his stomach, cooling on his skin as he
added to them.
Vic relaxed as his spasms subsided, and finally lay torpid on the bed. As
I watched his prick begin to soften I realized that mine was very hard
from the vicarious excitement of having brought him to orgasm. I hadn't
noticed when he'd let go of my prick because I'd been so engrossed in
bringing him pleasure, but now I waited, hiding my impatience, for his
warm fingers to curl around it again. After that build-up I needed to
drain myself, or to be drained by him.
It took Vic only a couple of minutes to recover, and when he did he
pulled me down to him and kissed me tenderly on both cheeks and finally
on the lips. I handed him some tissues to wipe his stomach and prick, and
he finished by drawing the long tapered hood forward over his now
shrunken tip. Then he arranged himself so that he was crouching over my
groin, and I felt his warm fingers clasp my shaft as he lowered himself
onto my prick.
His soft lips encircled the end of my penis and I felt the tip of his
tongue exploring the pucker in my foreskin. It pushed through the tight
orifice and now I felt it probing my teardrop shaped slit. I knew that he
was fascinated with my slit, and remembered that he'd often drilled his
tongue-tip into it before. Now he removed his mouth to speak:
"You gave me a terrific come. I want to do the same for you. Okay if I
suck you? That way I'll swallow your come and you won't get splashed
with it." I always enjoyed it when he sucked my prick to orgasm, because
he had a marvelous technique that always left me gasping and grunting as
my body spilled its seed down his throat.
"I'd love that," I said, and watched as his head went down again and
his lips closed around my foreskin. His tongue pushed in again,
stretching the tight orifice until he'd reached the flaring corona. Now
he used his tongue to pry my foreskin off the head, and I felt the nerve
endings stretching deliciously as he eased the long thick hood back until
it dropped into the groove behind my rim. He helped a bit by pulling down
on my shaft-skin, and now his lips engulfed my rim. He worked his tongue
round and round the head, caressing the front dome, lapping down the
sides, dipping into the triangular groove underneath, and then tracing
the outline of my flaring corona.
His other hand cupped my tight scrotum, his warm fingers very gently
kneading my balls through the thick wrinkled skin. I felt one of his
fingers pressing into my urethra behind my balls, and guessed that he'd
block my first ejaculation when I came. We both knew that the build-up in
pressure would enhance the sensation of the orgasm, because it would
stretch the urethra's nerve endings.
I was flat on my back, and didn't bother trying to watch him at work
because I always closed my eyes, withdrawing into myself, as my bodily
sensations built up, and I just let him stimulate my prick. Gradually the
focus of my mind centered on my groin, and I seemed to be detached from
the rest of my body. I became so absorbed into the pleasure he was giving
my prick that my awareness of the world outside my body faded, and soon
my entire world was in my penis.
I felt a delicious sideways friction in my rim, and I knew that he was
twisting his head as his lips tightened on my corona and the deep groove
behind it. He'd pulled down on my shaft-skin to clear the groove because
we both knew it contained many additional nerve endings. As his lips
worked their magic on my swollen and flaring corona I felt his tongue
again probing my orifice, tickling it delightfully.
His saliva was thin, unlike the natural lubricant, and it didn't mask
the friction at all. His lips kept circling my swollen rim and now I felt
a mild tickling sensation begin in the nerve endings. I knew that I had
to remain relaxed to stretch out the build-up and enjoy the feeling of
anticipation as long as possible, but I also knew that his magic
technique would draw the orgasm from my body no matter how much I stayed
relaxed.
The tickle increased, and now it spread to the front of my glans, where
his tongue-tip still drilled into my gaping slit. I felt a warning throb
deep inside the root of my prick, and I concentrated on staying relaxed.
I felt the pressure of the blood inside my prick, stretching the glans to
maximum size, almost to the bursting point.
Now I felt a different sensation as Vic shifted to a rapid up-and-down
stroke, and on the down-stroke his lips pressed against the roll of
retracted foreskin, pushing it farther down my shaft. The hard friction
against my swollen rim changed the tickle to a hot tingle, and another
sensation invaded my consciousness. My helmet was so swollen that it
ached for the release of orgasm, adding to my excitement and pushing me
hard toward the point of no return. I began breathing hard, shallow
breaths that matched the pace of Vic's strokes on my penis, and now my
eyes closed because I was totally captivated by the impending explosion.
My stomach muscles tightened and my legs began to tremble. I tried to
remain relaxed but I was caught up in the rush of sensations, feeling the
irresistible tingle in my glans spreading down my shaft.
The sudden jolt of sensation from Vic scraping his teeth lightly against
the broad upper surface of my helmet made the hot tingle explode, and I
cried out as the root of my prick convulsed, spilling a heavy load of
fluid into my urethra. Vic's finger, pressing into my urethra,
interrupted its rush toward the end, and I cried out helplessly as the
sensations overwhelmed me. My helmet tingled and my inner muscles went
into another spasm, sending more fluid that collided with the cream
already trapped in my tube. The pressure inside built up and I sobbed
with sensations as I saw stars in front of my eyes.
His lips pumped my glans again, triggering another spasm deep inside me,
but this time he removed the finger blocking my tube. I grunted hard as I
felt the hot torrent rushing up the entire length of my prick to erupt
from my orifice, filling his mouth with my cream. I felt the scrape of
his teeth on my tender helmet once more, and this launched another jet of
hot lava to burn its way through my prick before erupting into his mouth.
I was shuddering on the bed, legs trembling, as Vic removed his mouth
from my prick, just touching the tip with his lips to catch the rest of
my ejaculations. We knew each other well enough to judge precisely when
our pricks because super-sensitive, because we'd had lots of practice
together.
I lay supine is I felt the declining spasms go through me. Although not
as intense as the first four spurts, they were nevertheless profoundly
satisfying. Now I felt that I was just seeping, as I felt the slight
tickle as the lips of my slit dribbled the residue.
"That was awesome, the way your big helmet was throbbing in my mouth,"
Vic said. I felt his firm fingers milking my urethra, drawing out every
last drop. I feel the hyper-sensitivity fading and reach down to pull my
foreskin up over the softening helmet.
"It was awesome for me," I echo. "You just drained me."
"Like you did me," he says. We embrace and fall asleep.
Next morning Vic's cell phone rang while we were eating breakfast.
Whoever was on the other end apparently told him something disturbing,
because I saw his eyes flashed as he answered tersely; "Yeah, yeah, I
understand" before hanging up. He turned to me.
"Well, fuck!" he said. "Can you imagine this shit? That was my lawyer.
Yesterday a woman who'd brought her baby into the Downtown Circumcision
Center to get clipped was going down that staircase they'd built and a
step collapsed under her. Luckily she wasn't holding the baby at the
time, because she took a real tumble and broke her hip." I winced at
this revelation. I knew a broken hip wasn't exactly a minor injury.
"She had emergency surgery at General Hospital last night and her
husband called their lawyer. He's filing papers this morning, suing me
for a couple of million dollars. This is a real shit deal but my lawyer
tells me we're in the clear because we can lay it all on the doctors who
run the clinic. Our rental agreement with them states clearly that they
may not do any construction or modification without written permission
from me."
"Good for you," I say sympathetically. "I guess the doctors'
insurance can cover whatever the court awards her."
"You think I give a shit?" Vic ripostes. "I couldn't care less about
their insurance. In fact, I hope their insurance finds a way to get out
of it. I'd love to see those bastards have to eat this."
"You're not the only one who's lucky," I said. "I'm glad to see
them get sued, but imagine how much worse it would have been if they were
getting sued for a botched circ. The baby would have been the victim, and
who knows how badly he'd have been mutilated to justify a multi-million
dollar lawsuit?"
"Yeah, I think you're right, Jack. At least here, the only person who
got hurt was the mother, and I think she had it coming for getting her
baby clipped. Maybe there is a God after all." We finished our breakfast
and then got ready to go to work. Vic promised to keep me advised of any
developments.

Continued in Part 5