Date: Thu, 28 Sep 2006 10:42:32 -0700 (PDT)
From: jack santoro <jacksantoro@yahoo.com>
Subject: Spy Story, Adult Friends

                                   Spy Story

                            By Jacksantoro@yahoo.com


       I'd known Dan since college. We were the only two uncut kids in
our physical education class, but we'd never been teased because of our
foreskins, even as children. On the contrary, the other boys stared at us
enviously in the locker room. Dan and I found that our foreskins weren't
all we had in common, and we became life-long friends. When we were alone
together we experimented sexually, and we agreed that a relationship with
a man was simpler and easier to sustain than with a woman.
       Dan and I were very average-looking, both about 5'10" and with
medium builds. We both had brown hair but his eyes were green while mine
were brown. However, our pricks looked very much alike, different only in
minor details. Limp, we were both about three inches, with long elephant
trunk nipples that dangled beyond the big tips they covered.
       Our work separated us for years, although we kept in close touch.
Dan lived three states away and our visits were infrequent. When we'd
gotten together, we'd enjoyed mutual masturbation, oral and Princeton.
       "I really like getting together with you, Jack," he commented
during one of our meetings. "I've had some experiences with cut guys,
but they don't seem to understand how sensitive an uncut guy's cock
is."
       "I know just what you mean," I agreed. "Some of them are too
rough. They handle my prick the way they're accustomed to handling
theirs. Their pricks are desensitized and they need a lot of pressure and
quick strokes to get them off and they don't realize that I don't." As
I spoke I clasped the end of his long foreskin nipple and was pulling it
out from his body. The delicate stimulation was producing results, and
the core of his prick was lengthening under my touch.
       "Let me do it to you," Dan said as he clasped the bulge of my
helmet through my foreskin, applying gentle rhythmic squeezes that he
knew unfailingly aroused me.
       "You know what I like," I said.
       "And I know what you like," he replied. As he spoke the outline
of his mushroom-shaped glans became clearly visible through his widening
foreskin. Dan had a bulky glans, as I did, although the shape was
slightly different. Our tips had the same blunt front dome, expanding
towards the rear. His rim stood out over ¼" above the neck of his shaft,
as mine did, but had a rounded contour instead of a sharp flare. This
made it look like a mushroom. Mine looked more like a helmet. His rim's
rounded shaped made his foreskin slide very easily over it when I stroked
it, whereas mine tended to lock the foreskin behind it. We both had about
six inches in overall length when erect.
       "You're nice and hard now," I commented.
       "We both are," he countered. "We both have lots of skin, like
we always did." Even with full erections, our long foreskins covered our
tips completely, forming tight puckers beyond the end. I began to pull
down on his foreskin, watching the pucker start to expand as the delicate
tissues stretched.
       "I'm going to skin you back very slowly," I said as I pulled up
on his hood. Then I started down again, pulling slightly farther until
his pucker had spread to the diameter of a dime, revealing his long slit.
       "I met an uncut guy last year," Dan said. "He had a long skin
like us, but it was very loose and at the end it gaped. I like the way
your skin hugs the contours of your cock." Now he was pulling down on my
hood, tensing the pucker against the front dome of my helmet.
       "Our foreskins are tight but very stretchy," I said as Dan
pulled my foreskin up again and then worked it down to widen the opening.
My arm was around his shoulders, and I hugged him to me as we lovingly
aroused each other. His other hand cupped my balls, which I felt pulling
up against my body.
       "When was the last time you came?" he asked me as he pulled my
hood farther down, exposing half my helmet.
       "A couple of weeks ago," I said. "I've been busy with my
work."
       "It's been longer than that for me," he said. "Between moving
and settling into my new job I haven't had time for anybody." Now I'd
pulled his foreskin halfway down the head, and the heady aroma of our wet
tips and foreskins filled the air. I inhaled deeply.
       "I like the way your prick smells," I said. "That gets me hot
too."
       "I like it too," he affirmed.
       "Man, you're really hot," I commented. "Your balls are
tightening up now."
       "So are yours," he said. He was working my foreskin in a steady
rhythm now, as I was doing to him.
       "You're ahead of me," I remarked. "Your tip feels like it's
gotten harder, and I can see it's darker now." His slit was leaking
clear lubricant copiously and I picked up the pace. His body tensed.
       "You've got me real close," he murmured.
       "Just relax and let me finish you first," I suggested. "You're
going to blast off any second." I felt his hand stop working on my
prick, merely clasping it now, and I knew that his mind was totally
focused on the intense sensations filling his groin. I leaned closer to
his crotch, as I wanted to be ready when he came.
       "HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" Dan grunted as the sensations filled his
body. His slit poured out a steady stream of lube, and I leaned over to
lick it from his turgid tip. The touch of my tongue triggered him, and I
felt his hot hard prick throb in my hand.
       Dan loaned loudly as the first wave of his orgasm hit him, and I
wrapped my lips around his hard and throbbing tip. The jet hit the back
of my throat and I swallowed hard as I heard him cry out in joyous agony.
I twisted my head so that my lips rubbed around his flaring rim as I held
his foreskin tightly back. This triggered another hot blast that filled
my mouth. Dan's hips bucked as he thrust his prick upward, deeper into
my mouth. His turgid mushroom slid along my palate as it disgorged
another stream of cream that filled my mouth with the characteristic
chlorine taste.
       Now I stopped moving my lips around his glans because I knew that
it became very sensitive after the third ejaculation. His orgasm roared
on, his engorged mushroom head hammering against my palate, and he was
still thrusting in the frenzy of his release. I continued to swallow,
savoring the combined tastes of his lube and semen as he continued to
pour it into my mouth. His moans weren't as loud, though, and his jets
were weaker.
       Gradually, his frenzy subsided, and his throbs became weaker. Now
his slit was just oozing with the residue of his discharge, and I began
to milk his urethra to force out the last drops. I began behind his
scrotum, pressing my fingertip into the tube and working it forward. I
milked the bulge on the underside of his shaft and was rewarded by a
thick gush that seeped from his slit onto my tongue.
       Dan lay inert, dazed by the hot pulses that had wracked his body.
I waited for him to revive, my prick still hard in his hand. He hadn't
let go, even during his orgasm, because it added to his excitement to
hold my prick. I usually did the same, feeling his hot hardness in my
hand as he stimulated me to the point of no return. Now, however, he'd
be soft when he resumed working on my prick.
       I felt his strong fingers squeeze my shaft, and his stare shifted
from the ceiling to my face as I slipped the foreskin forward to cover
his shrinking glans.
       "Man, that was hot," he whispered.
       "You were overdue for release," I murmured. "You really needed
to blow that load."
       "You know I was," he agreed. "Now it's your turn. I can feel
how hard you are. You're ready to blow it."
       "Making you come really turned me on," I said. "It always does.
I could feel your big tip inside my mouth while it was throbbing."
       "Just like I'm going to feel yours," he said as he pushed me
flat on the couch and knelt on the floor, mouth poised over the purple
end of my prick as he drew down the foreskin.
       "Swallowing each other's juice avoids making a mess on the
couch," I observed. "It's tasty too," I added as I felt his lips
sliding down over my engorged helmet. I felt the tip of his tongue
drilling into my teardrop shaped orifice as his lips enclosed my flaring
corona, locking in the deep groove behind it. He knew what I liked from
long experience, and he began rotating his head as I'd done to him. His
lips slid sensually around my rim, caressing the flare and the
nerve-studded back-face of my corona.
       I was already primed for orgasm, as he'd accurately observed, and
I felt my helmet engorge in its final swelling, corona filling out fully
and hardening with the pressure of the blood rushing into it. My helmet
was filled with a pleasant ache that signaled that I urgently needed the
release he was about to give me. I was now breathing hard, and although I
tried to remain relaxed to prolong the build-up, my body tensed
involuntarily. I was withdrawing into myself as the heightened sensations
dominated my consciousness.
       His sharp teeth lightly scraped the broad upper surface of my
helmet and the gee-string underneath, triggering my first spasm. I yelped
loudly as the first hot blast shot up my urethra, rushing to escape. My
eyes snapped shut and I tumbled into the free-fall of orgasm, transported
into another world where there was only bliss.
       I cried out helplessly as his teeth scraped my nerve endings
again, and the heavy pounding of orgasm deep inside me sent another
torrent of hot cream searing its way up my prick. I sensed that he was
swallowing hard, and my hips bucked as the root of my prick released a
third discharge that left me gasping breathlessly. I writhed in the
frenzy of my orgasm as I shot again, and now I felt his lips go still
around my helmet.
       I had entered the super-sensitive stage, and I was glad that Dan
and I were partners, each understanding how the natural penis was more
sensitive than the shorn model, and how to avoid distress when the
sensitivity increased. I continued to shoot, my prick throbbing in his
mouth, and he sucked the cream from my gaping orifice.
       The next spasm was weaker and the volume less. My orgasm gradually
dwindled to a steady seepage, which he swallowed faithfully. Now I was
still, overcome by the aftershock, and I lay inert, waiting to recover
while I enjoyed the peaceful feeling that was creeping over me.
       I didn't see Dan for a long while after that, meeting him only
sporadically when our schedules allowed it. I wondered why he was so
often out of town, given the nature of his work, and when he moved away I
thought I might never see him again, despite our profound attachment for
each other.
       Years later Dan moved back and bought a house only a mile from
where I lived. He'd said that he'd found work nearby and taken
advantage of the opportunity. We got together quickly after he'd phoned
to tell me of his return. I invited him to my house, where I had both a
swimming pool and a Jacuzzi in my yard. I prepared dinner on the grill
for him and for Mark, my step-son. After dinner I sent Mark off to take a
bath.
       "You have a little boy now," Dan said. "You never got married,
did you?"
       "No, I never did. Mark is not my biological son. He's actually
my nephew, my sister's boy. His parents were killed in an airline crash
a couple of years ago. My sister and her husband had arranged that if
anything happened to them I'd get custody."
       "So you're raising him alone?" Dan asked. "Wouldn't it be a
bit easier if you had a male partner, married?"
       "No," I replied. "I don't believe in this gay marriage shit.
Straight people have such a hard time with their marriages that it looks
like a lousy risk to me."
       "I know what you mean," Dan agreed. "Straight people have a
fifty percent divorce rate. Gay marriage seems like just a fad. Remember
15 years ago? Then it was gays in the military. Look what happened to
that, now that there's a shooting war going on. That was another fad
that died out."
       "I figured it was simpler to raise him as a single parent. I
avoid a lot of problems that way."
       "I think you're right," Dan agreed.
       At that moment Mark walked into the room, stark naked. Dan looked
at him as I spoke:
       "Okay, Mark, now that you've taken your shower, go get ready for
bed." Mark went back to his bedroom.
       "How old is he, about six?" Dan asked.
       "Yes, that's exactly right. He had his sixth birthday last
month."
       "I noticed he isn't circumcised either," Dan said. "How did
that happen?"
       "My sister Grace didn't want it done, and neither did her
husband, because he'd been snipped as a baby and didn't like it. The
doctor gave them some static, but David reminded him that he was an
attorney, and that if little Mark didn't come home from the hospital
with everything he'd been born with, the doctor would be facing major
problems."
       "His foreskin looks pretty long and tight, a perfect anteater"
Dan observed. "Do you have any trouble getting it back for cleaning?"
       "No problem at all," I replied. "First, his parents just left
his penis alone during his baths. I never tried to get it back, either.
You don't have to skin back a baby's penis. It really doesn't get
dirty, and the sterile urine flushes out the foreskin anyway. I told him
to try it himself, a little bit at a time, so that he didn't hurt
himself. I don't think anyone should try to retract a boy's foreskin
except the boy himself. He worked at it for a couple of years, and last
year was able to get it all the way back to expose the head and the
groove behind it. Then I told him just to rinse his penis, and be careful
not to leave a soap residue inside his foreskin because that could be
irritating. He's had no problem cleaning inside his foreskin since."
       "I remember when I was a kid and my skin was long and tight like
his," Dan said. "I couldn't get it back at first either, and it was
stuck to the head. Each time I peed it would balloon out, and this got
the skin unstuck. Then, of course, I played with it, and that helped
loosen it. Each time I got a hard-on I'd stroke it back and forth, and
gradually I was able to get it all the way back, by the time I was six or
seven."
       "Mine was the same way," I said. "I guess it runs in the
family. I handled it the same way you did. My father wasn't cut and he
told me it was all right to play with it, just as long as it wasn't in
public. I really played with mine a lot. I used to pull the end of my
nipple out as far as I could. That helped get it unstuck from the head."
       "My father was cut. The doctor did it to him the same time he
took out his tonsils when he was five. He was shocked and he hated it,
and he didn't let the doctor cut me when I was born," Dan revealed.
       By this time I calculated that Mark was in bed and I excused
myself to bid him goodnight. When I returned Dan was looking at me
expectantly as he sat on the couch.
       "Mark's a very heavy sleeper," I reassured him as I sat next to
him. "We won't be interrupted." Dan was fingering his penis through
his clothing, running a finger up and down the rapidly lengthening bulge
down the left leg of his pants. I began running my finger down the hard
outline of his prick, and Dan shafted his attention to my crotch. Feeling
through the fabric, he found the outline of my glans and began squeezing
it gently.
       "Let's get undressed," he urged. We both quickly got out of our
clothing and I went to the bathroom to get a towel to spread under us. I
was almost hard when I got back, and Dan was fully hard, but with his
anteater foreskin forming a pucker beyond the end of his mushroom. We sat
next to each other on the towel. I felt his fingers squeezing my helmet
through its fleshy shroud, and this brought an immediate response from my
prick. The root twitched with every squeeze, each contraction making it
swell even more, until it was fully hard after about six squeezes.
       "I'm going to work your skin back so I can see that beautiful
head," he said. He began tugging my foreskin down in small increments,
bringing it back up each time, only to draw it down a bit farther with
the next pull. It took three tugs to get it halfway down my glans, which
stood out proudly, purple and glistening. The aroma of wet galns and
foreskin filled the air, and Dan inhaled deeply.
       "I like the way your slit pouts to make a teardrop," he said as
he pulled my foreskin down almost to the rim. I gave his glans a couple
of squeezes through his foreskin, and felt the responding throbs.
       "I want to see you shoot," he said with an urgent note in his
voice. He retracted my hood completely and I felt it expand over my
flaring rim and snap down into the deep groove behind it. Now he pulled
it up again, compressing my rim and making me moan in delight. His
fingers closed fully around my prick as he began pumping my foreskin, and
I was helpless in his hands, unwilling to resist or even protest. I felt
an urgency for orgasm that forced me to let him draw it from me, and I
knew I'd be the first to come.
       "I love holding on to your prick," I said. "Feeling it really
excites me." I stroked Dan as rapidly as he was stroking me, and I knew
that, although my load might be the first to erupt, his would be right
behind it. Dan's tightly encircling fingers flew up and down my rigid
prick, and I felt the sensation building up in my helmet. At first, there
was a tickle in the rim, and then it spread all over the head to the
front dome. More blood rushed into my prick, making it swell to its final
hardness.
I was looking down at our pricks, and saw that our tips had darkened,
which meant that our explosions were only seconds away. The tickle in my
tip had changed to a hot tingle that made me gasp, and then I felt the
sensation explode, shooting a hot spark down the length of my shaft to
the root. I cried out as the first rush of hot cream burst into my
urethra, searing its way up my prick to erupt all over my abdomen. Dan's
prick throbbed hard in my hand, and I heard him grunt hard as a torrent
of white juice poured from between the lips of his long slit. I shot
again, my ejaculation falling back onto his encircling fingers, and a
split second later Dan's prick throbbed again in its frenzy, sending
another torrent over his stomach and my hand.
We clung to each other desperately as we stroked each other's pricks,
drawing forth another discharge that soaked our pubic hairs and the towel
underneath us. Now we both stopped stroking because we knew that the
other's prick was becoming super-sensitive. We pulled down hard on each
others' foreskins, stretching the nerve endings in the hoods and the
frenulums and baring the tips so that we could watch the eruptions.
Our ejaculations were less forceful now, gradually declining to seepage,
as we drained ourselves. What had been thick white cream turned to clear
fluid as our sperm ran out and was replaced by lubricant. We shuddered
against each other as our bodies responded automatically, draining the
last drops.
Our tips were coated with thick exudates as we came to a halt. We sat
very still, enjoying the blissful feeling that crept over us as we sunk
into a daze. Dan kissed me tenderly on the lips.
"I loved coming together with you," I said as I kissed him back.
       "Sharing the magic moment's always a thrill with you," he said.
We got up and showered, preparing for bed.
       The next day Mark went to his friend's house to spend the entire
day with him and to stay overnight. This gave Dan and me a lot of time to
talk and do whatever we wished. We were lying on my queen-size bed
talking.
       "We've known each other a long time," Dan said. "I know what
you do, but do you know what I really do?" His question puzzled me, for
I knew that Dan was an architect. I thought I knew, anyway.
       "Yes," I replied. "I've known since we graduated. What's the
big deal?"
       "You think I'm an architect, but that's just a cover. I really
do secret work for the government." That surprised me, but then I
remembered that he'd often been away for a long time, supposedly on
assignment for his firm.
       "CIA?" I asked.
       "No, not the CIA," he replied. "I work for the Department of
Defense in a section practically nobody knows about. It's called the
Foreign Intelligence Support Activity. We help out with certain mundane
tasks supporting various foreign intelligence collection efforts. Our
section lends me out to the CIA sometimes, and other times to the DIA,
the Defense Intelligence Agency."
       "What do you actually do?" I asked. "Kill people? Plant bugs in
some foreign government offices? Steal the latest jet fighter?"
       "No, nothing that thrilling," he replied. "Most of the time
I'm just a courier. Sometimes I meet with agents and they hand over
material to me, and I bring it back to this country. More often I service
dead drops, hiding places where they leave material for me to pick up.
That's a lot safer, because we don't have to meet in person. Also, they
don't know me and I never see them. That's called compartmentalization,
and it means that even if an agent gets caught, he can't give me away to
the police. It works the other way too."
       "Still, isn't it dangerous carrying around stuff you pick up
from your agents?"
       "Not really. The material I pickup today isn't paper or even
microfilm. Today, it's all put onto memory chips and they're concealed
in everyday objects. It's practically impossible for counter-espionage
agents or customs guards to detect. None ever has, so far."
       "They must be pretty small, I guess. How do you hide them?"
       "They are pretty small," he explained. "I'm sure you're seen
these things that plug into a USB port that hold several gigabytes of
data. Those are on the open market. Our Technical Services Division
developed some that are really tiny, about the size of the head of a pin,
and hold about 50 gigabytes. They cost about a million bucks each to
make. I can take one and hide it almost anywhere, such as at the bottom
of a screw hole in my watch. Since it's surrounded by metal, it never
shows up in X-rays."
       "How did you ever get into this line of work?" I asked. In
reply, he reached out and clasped my foreskin between thumb and index
finger, gently pulling it out from my body.
       "Because of this," was his surprising answer. "Also, I speak
Czech fluently because my parents were Czech. I can pass for a Czech
anywhere in the world. In Europe, practically nobody's circumcised,
except for religious minorities. They're all anteaters there, and not
having a foreskin can be a dead give-away. With the strip-to-the-skin
inspections you sometimes have to go through at airports, they'd think
right away that anyone who's circumcised was an American or a Jew. I
work mostly in Eastern Europe, where they don't like Americans or Jews,
even with the end of the Cold War."
       "Did any of your people get caught because they were clipped?" I
asked.
       "In the early days, yes. Our people should have learned from the
Israelis, who also ran intelligence operations in Eastern Europe. The
Israelis thought that nobody would hold a drop-your-pants inspection, but
other things happened. One of their couriers was run down in a traffic
accident. At the hospital the doctor saw that he'd been cut. The
doctor's brother was in the security police and he called him. Another
one of theirs got horny and went to a prostitute. The girl saw he didn't
have a foreskin and turned him in. We should have learned from that, but
we didn't."
       "What happened to ours?"
       "Because they'd run into Israeli agents, the security police
over there started playing helmet-anteater with suspicious people. If you
were an anteater, you were usually okay. If you were a helmet, you were
automatically in deep shit. This was in the late 40s. The first of ours
to get caught just happened to run into a police check-point in East
Berlin, where they were always on the alert for spies. They did strip him
to the skin, and even though he spoke German perfectly, he didn't have a
chance. Another was pissing in a public urinal in Hungary in the 1950s
and by sheer bad luck, a colonel of their security police in plainclothes
came in and pissed in the trough next to him. You know how guys check
each other out in the bathroom. His ass was grass. A third guy got caught
in Poland in the 1960s. His first mistake was running a little black
market operation on the side. He got caught by the regular police and in
the jail they made him strip down. When they saw a scar instead of skin
they called the security police. I can tell you, you don't want to
undergo interrogation by those people. You're having a good day if they
merely beat the shit out of you."
       "So then they started looking for guys who weren't cut," I
said. "How did they get on to you, personally?"
       "Their recruiters came to the university and looked at all male
students' medical records. That let them make a list of all the uncut
guys. Then they looked for other things, such as language skills. They
interviewed me and made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Among other
things, I got $20,000 just for signing up, and they said if I finished
the training course successfully, I'd get another $30,000. That made
fifty thou right at the start."
       "I bet you couldn't work in the Middle East," I said, taking a
wild guess.
       "You're absolutely right on that. In the Middle East, except for
a tiny Christian minority, everybody's either Jewish or Moslem, and
they're all circumcised. To pass, you've got to be a helmet. Anteaters
like you and me would really stand out. In some Moslem countries, if you
get caught with a foreskin, they'll pin you down and cut it off right
then and there. They think it's an affront to Allah. We've got couriers
who work the Middle East, and they're all circumcised. The police there
will drag you into an alley or doorway and make you strip down if they
have the slightest suspicion."
       "I'd guess your section had an easier time finding guys who can
get around in the Middle East than in Eastern Europe," I ventured.
       "You're right on that," Dan confirmed. "There are lots of guys
without foreskins in this country. Finding people like us is more
difficult. Then there's the language skill. We have to be really fluent
in at least one foreign language consistent with our area of operation."
       "I guess you'd have to look like the natives too," I ventured.
       "Oh, you're right about that. Even if I didn't have a foreskin,
I'd be wrong for the Middle East because my skin's too light and I
don't have black hair."
       "Suppose your department finds someone who does have black hair
and an olive complexion," I suggested. "If he's not cut, would they
ask him to get cut?"
       "That's happened once or twice. I knew a courier who was of
Gypsy extraction, and they never circumcise their boys. They told him
that circumcision was part of the job qualification, and they gave him a
$10,000 bonus to get clipped. He accepted the offer."
       "In one way he was lucky," I mused. "I'm sure they did it
under anesthesia. Babies don't get any anesthetic when they cut them.
That's one more reason my sister didn't want Mark to get clipped."
       "You're right, Jack. This guy was really apprehensive about the
pain, and they told him he'd never feel anything at all. In the
operating room, they made him groggy with nitrous oxide, just a light
sleep, so that he wouldn't be anxious or feel the injections they used
to anesthetize his penis. They kept him groggy during the surgery and
used a long-acting local so that he'd still be numb when he woke up.
Then they kept him doped up on Demerol until his penis healed."
       "How do you know all this?" I asked.
       "I was in the same group he was. He told me all about it," Dan
said.
       "Does it ever work the other way?" I asked. "Say they find a
guy who speaks an Eastern European language, like you, but he's been
cut. Do they do plastic surgery on his prick to replace his foreskin?"
       "That happened once or twice in the early days," Dan said.
"They tried a couple of different methods of grafting a new foreskin
onto their dicks. The worst was using scrotal skin. That's so much
darker than shaft skin that it looked unnatural right from the start.
They never sent that guy out because they knew that anyone seeing the
dark red band around the end of his dick would know something was wrong.
I saw his cock because we had sex a couple of times and he told me all
about it when I asked why his foreskin was a different color and texture
than his shaft skin."
       "Did they try other methods after that?" I asked.
       "Sure they did. They tried grafting skin from the thigh or
abdomen, if the guy wasn't very hairy. That gave better results, but
still left scars. In the end, they gave up on plastic surgery."
       "I'd heard that some cut guys restore their foreskins by
stretching the shaft-skin," I said. "They every try that?"
       "Believe me, they tried everything. I knew one guy in the section
who did that. It took him three years to stretch the skin out enough so
that it covered the head, and when he finished it looked pretty good. I
don't think anybody would have spotted that as a re-growth, but the time
factor was the problem. The department just couldn't wait three years
for the results."
       "It really looked natural?" I asked.
       "From the outside it looked perfect. The skin covered the head
all the way, although it didn't tighten down at the end the way ours do.
That's didn't seem to be a problem, because lots of guys have loose
skins. Then the section chief decided to run a little test. He had the
guy have sex with a female agent and asked her to look for anything
unusual. She reported back that the guy's penis looked exactly like an
uncircumcised one and felt like one too, but when she skinned him back
she saw the thick brown scar ring on the inside of the skin, and that
gave him away right then. The department decided it couldn't risk
anyone's life that way and they stopped experimenting with restoring
skins."
       "I'm glad you still have yours, for purely selfish reasons," I
said as I stripped his long hood down from the turgid mushroom head. The
glossy wet head glistened in the soft room light. Inspecting it closely I
saw the little bumps on the rim, buds of sensation filled with nerve
endings. Dan worked my foreskin down from my helmet, and lightly touched
the gaping orifice with the tip of his finger. Now he pressed down,
compressing the deep-seated nerve endings in my helmet, and I felt the
root of my prick twitch.
       "Feel like doing Princeton?" he asked as he pulled my hood
forward again.
       "That would be nice," I said. "I've got condoms here." I
reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a Magnum size condom.
These are best because they're loose fitting and allow free movement
inside them. I unrolled it over Dan's bare mushroom and down his shaft.
His foreskin was bunched up behind his rim, out of the way. Now I rolled
onto my left side and he got behind me, slipping his prick between my
thighs when I raised my right leg.
       "That feels very good," he said as he began thrusting slowly.
With the pressure of my thighs, the condom remained in place while his
prick slid freely inside it. He reached over me and grasped mine, working
the foreskin back and forth with just the right amount of pressure.
       "This way we can come together," I said. Dan worked my foreskin
with the long strokes he knows I enjoy, covering the blunt nose of my
glans right to the end and then sliding my foreskin all the way back to
snap into the groove behind my rim. Moving it forward, he compressed the
nerve endings in my corona, adding to my excitement as he brought my
thick fleshy hood fully forward again.
       I felt his thick prick sliding between my thighs, lightly bumping
my scrotum at the end of the forward stroke. He was actually doing all
the work, thrusting his prick and stroking mine, so he was totally in
control. This was good, because he'd know when to stroke me faster as
his excitement mounted, so that we'd reach the peak at about the same
time. I'd developed a technique for perfectly synchronizing our orgasms,
though, and now I reminded him of it:
       "Remember, try to make me come just a bit faster than you think
you'll come. That way, when I'm ready to pop, I'll put my finger down
there and hit your hot button to trigger you." He grunted and picked up
the pace of his thrusting, as well as his strokes on my hardness. Dan was
also a lover of long strokes, sliding his penis almost out from between
my thighs as he moved, taking advantage of every one of the six hard
inches that adorned his body.
       Our breathing became deeper as our excitement mounted. I reached
to get a towel from the bedside table to catch my sperm. I knew his would
be contained by the condom. We were both somewhat surprised that, despite
his vigorous thrusting during the frenzy of his orgasm, his prick never
broke through the latex.
       I was watching him stroke my prick, rolling my foreskin all the
way back and then bringing it forward again, but in my mind's eye I saw
his prick thrusting between my thighs, the big mushroom head probing
deeply, searching for my scrotum to bump with each stroke. My balls were
tight against my body, and I reached back to feel his. They were tight
too, and I knew we were both at about the same level.
       His thrusts became more urgent, and his breathing more rapid. His
hand followed his excitement, tightening on my prick while he matched the
pace of his thrusts with his strokes on my foreskin.
       "Are you getting a tickle yet?" I asked. We always communicated
well during sex, as we were eager to enhance each other's pleasure.
       "Just starting," was his reply. We both experienced the same
tickling sensation in the glans at the start of the final stage when our
tips went into their final swelling.
       "I'm getting it now too," I said.
       "I can feel your rim's really swollen and hard," he informed
me. "I know you're right there with me." He increased the rhythm of
his thrusts, and I knew his arousal was mounting.
       His breathing became ragged as he thrust harder, with faster
strokes that slammed his body into my back. My pelvis was being bumped
hard, and this increased my excitement. A film of sweat broke out between
us, and I knew we were close.
       "It's really tickling in the tip," he muttered as he thrust
against me. My tickle was strong, having begun around my rim and
gradually spreading to the front dome of my helmet. My eyes closed as I
began to gasp with excitement, and my awareness of the world outside my
body dimmed as my attention increasingly focused on my raging prick.
       Suddenly Dan's strong fingers twisted my foreskin on the forward
stroke, and reversed on the back stroke, producing a delicious and
intense sideways friction on my corona. The tickle in my helmet exploded,
sending hot sparks of sensation down my shaft, and I remembered to push
my index finger between my thighs to press into the triangular groove on
the underside of his swollen mushroom to trigger his climax.
       I cried out as the full flush of orgasm wracked my body. The first
torrent of cream rushed up my prick, its heat searing my urethra, to slam
through the lips of my distended slit. I felt Dan's prick throb hard
between my thighs as he grunted in orgasm. I tightened my thigh muscles
to give him more pressure and stronger sensations as I felt his glans
throbbing against the finger I was pressing into the hot spot under the
head. Pressing into his gee-string never failed to trigger him when he
was red-hot as he was now.
       Our pricks throbbed again, at the same moment, and our bodies
strained against each other as we released another hot load. Our animal
grunts filled the air, inspiring us to discharge again.
       Now Dan stopped stroking my foreskin because he knew that my
helmet became too sensitive after three loads, but he kept thrusting hard
and I kept my finger pressed into the underside of his mushroom. We both
knew that he was flooding the condom with his cream, which cushioned the
sensations because his glans was swimming in a tide of sperm.
       The root of my prick contracted again, sending another hot gush
pouring into my prick. I knew he'd unloaded another torrent into the
condom because I felt the throb of his prick between my thighs. Dan kept
my foreskin pulled tightly back, stretching the nerve endings in my
gee-string and tugging the front of my glans down with the tension.
       Our pricks throbbed several more times, more weakly now, and our
jets became less forceful as our orgasms wound down. Finally we were
still, sinking into the blissful daze of the aftershock. We lay there a
long while, happy with each other, before we went into a long and
dreamless sleep in each other's arms.
       The next morning we lay in bed languidly, in no hurry to get up. I
prepared coffee in the kitchen and brought the carafe and two cups back
to the bedroom.
       "I'm wondering about a few things, now that you told me what you
really do," I began. We went to the same school and we're both
anteaters. Yet, I was never approached by your agency's recruiter. I
can't figure out why not."
       "Fucked if I know, Jack. I never worked in recruiting or
personnel. They don't tell me everything. Information's so
compartmentalized I'm surprised there's so much office gossip anyway."
       "Yes, I've heard something about gossip.  That's how Aldrich
Ames got most of what he passed to the Soviets. It wasn't strictly in
his line of work, but he picked up a lot around the water cooler." I
sighed.
       "Disappointed?" Dan asked me.
       "No, not really. I enjoy what I do. Anyway, with Mark to take
care of, I wouldn't want to risk my life or my freedom in some other
country. Anyway, why did you feel free to tell me what you did
yesterday?"
       "Oh, the secrecy's over-rated anyway. I'm pretty sure other
countries know all about what we do, anyway. We've been doing it for so
long and they've caught some of our guys over the years."
       "Didn't they do a background check before they hired you?" I
asked. "What about your sexual taste?"
       "That was in the old days, around World War II. Then they thought
that homosexuals were vulnerable to blackmail because they had to hide
it. Today, it's acceptable to be gay. The agency doesn't care as long
as you're open about it. As I told you yesterday, I'm not the only one.
The guy with the skin made from his scrotal skin was like us."
       "What happened to him?" I asked.
       "They used him for other duties. They never sent him to Eastern
Europe." I sipped my coffee thoughtfully.
       Will you be going on any more trips to Eastern Europe?" I asked.
I'd begun to worry.
       "Yes, I've got one slated for next week. I'm going to Poland,
but it's not too bad. Poland's pretty friendly with us now. Anyway,
they'll think I'm Czech, with the papers I'll be carrying. I'll leave
my American passport in Berlin and use a Czech one to book a flight to
Warsaw." The coffee was distending my bladder and I was sure Dan was
feeling its effects as well.
       "I've got to pee," I said. "Want to take a shower together?"
Dan knew exactly what I meant, as we'd known each other for years and
had done this many times. He followed me into the bathroom, and we
stepped into the shower. The hot water stimulated our sphincters, and
when my stream began I pinched the end of my long foreskin nipple shut.
Dan did the same, and our hoods ballooned out with the pressure.
       We let go at the same moment and watched our streams gush out,
splashing onto our legs and the shower floor. Then we pinched our
foreskins again, repeating the exercise until we were drained.
       "This is what got my skin unstuck from the head," Dan said after
we'd finished.
       "I did this too when I was a kid," I said. "Hell, I do it now!
My father taught me that trick. I guess all the uncut kids did it."
       "Did you show that to Mark?" he asked.
       "I didn't have to," I laughed. "He learned it by himself."
       We went out for breakfast and then Dan went home. I picked up Mark
at his friend's home. I didn't see Dan for weeks, and when I phoned, I
only got his answering machine.
       Two months later, I got a visit from a man with Dan's outfit, the
Foreign Intelligence Support Activity. Jake was about my age, very
affable, but said he had some bad news:
       "Your friend Dan didn't return from the mission to Poland.
We're still trying to sort it out."
       "I'm surprised that you're telling me this classified stuff,"
I said. "I'm not cleared for this information. I've never had a
security clearance in my life."
       "I'm telling you because he got a waiver for you. He's listed
you as his significant other." I was surprised and it showed in my face.
I'd never imagined that Dan would specify our relationship in official
paperwork. "You're entitled to know," Jake continued.
       "Then you can tell me what you know so far?" I ventured.
       "Yes, and it's not very much. It's certainly not very helpful.
Dan was in Warsaw, and the civil police arrested him. They charged him
with fraud, because he matched the description of a Czech national who
had been running a scam in Poland. As far as we can tell, they don't
know what he was carrying. His mission had been to obtain economic
information from one of our agents and he was carrying it in a microchip,
one of the really tiny ones that fit inside a watch. In fact, this time
we disguised it as part of the circuitry of a quartz watch. We're pretty
sure they don't know because only the civil police are involved, not the
security police."
       "Don't they have to put him on trial, then?" I asked. "Are
there witnesses who can say that he wasn't the guilty party?"
       "These things take time over there. Hell, they take time over
here," Jake explained. "Our embassy can't do a thing, because
officially he's not an American citizen. We're not going to admit we
sent an American citizen into Poland traveling under a fake passport."
       "What about the Czech Embassy? Can they do anything?"
       "The Czechs never heard of him," Jake explained patiently. "His
papers are fake. They won't own up to him and in fact they've told the
Polish Government that Dan isn't who he claims to be, even though he
speaks Czech. You can see it's really a mess." This news left me even
more profoundly unhappy than before. I could anticipate Jake's
conclusion, that there was nothing to be done and that Dan would be
behind bars in Poland indefinitely, perhaps many years.
       "Anyway, thanks for letting me know," I said, anticipating that
there was nothing more to say.
       "There's just a bit more, before you ask," Jake said. "You
can't go visit him for two reasons. There must be no hint that he's
American or has ever even lived in America. Also, he's not allowed
visitors. Only fully sentenced inmates serving their sentences are
allowed visitors under their law. Those under investigation or awaiting
trial are held incommunicado."
       "Hell, I couldn't go to Poland anyway. I've got my job to worry
about and I have to take care of Mark. He's my son."
       "I sympathize with you. We'll keep in touch and let you know
about any developments." With that Jake left.
       Jake was true to his word. He phoned to ask me if he could drop by
that evening. Mark again was staying overnight with a friend and I knew
we wouldn't be interrupted. I invited Jake to come for dinner. Over a
meal of rib-eye steak, baked potato, and salad, he gave me the latest
news:
       "Dan's in good health, although he's obviously not a happy
camper. We got this from his court-appointed lawyer, who lucky for us,
happens to be very pro-American. He's still  charged with fraud, and we
don't know exactly what it is he's supposed to have done because he
really didn't do it."
       "It's really nice of you to take the trouble to keep me
informed," I said. "I didn't expect this. I thought your outfit would
just forget about him."
       "No, we don't abandon our people, and I certainly wouldn't.
Some years ago Dan and I were really close. He might have told you about
me."
       "He never mentioned your name," I said. "Maybe you can tell me
why he might have mentioned you?"
       "I was one of the activity's experimental people, you might say.
I'll guess that Dan told you that he was selected for this role because
he's not circumcised? He told me you're not either, by the way." I was
somewhat surprised at this revelation from someone who was still a
stranger. I nodded and Jake went on:
       "I was a candidate for the courier role because I speak German
fluently. I also speak French fluently. The only hitch was that the
doctor cut off my foreskin when I was born. Dan must have explained to
you what that means if you're sent into certain parts of the world." I
nodded again, because my mouth was full.
       "The section chief told me my circumcision was a problem, but
that there was a possibility of doing something about that. A plastic
surgeon had developed a way of reconstructing a foreskin from the skin of
the scrotum and if I volunteered I could have a new foreskin by plastic
surgery. The government would pay all the expenses and I'd receive a
$10,000 bonus for volunteering. I thought I really had nothing to lose,
especially as the chief told me I'd be eligible for a stateside job
anyway." He took a bite of his steak before continuing.
       "The whole procedure took three operations, the first under
general anesthesia and the other two under local. In the end, I had skin
over the end of my penis, but it was scrotal skin that didn't match the
rest of the skin. It was thicker, pebbly in texture, and much darker in
color. I should have known this just from looking at my penis and scrotum
before the surgery. Also, there was a circular scar where the new
foreskin was attached to the shaft skin. Anybody could tell that it
didn't look natural." Now I remembered Dan telling me about Jake.
       "I know Dan told me about a member of his outfit who'd had
scrotal graft plastic surgery for a new foreskin, but he never mentioned
your name," I said.  Jake took another mouthful which he chewed before
replying:
       "Yes, that was me. I hope you won't be sore when I tell you that
we were fascinated by each other. I really envied what Dan called his
anteater, and he was fascinated by my fake foreskin, because it didn't
look natural. He showed me some foreskin play, and I just loved it." I
digested his words for a moment before replying:
       "I can understand your mutual interest very well. Also, before
you ask, it doesn't bother me that you got it on with Dan. We were apart
for several years and we had no commitment to each other. I had sex with
other guys while he was gone, so I have no reason to be jealous."
       "Thanks for that, Jack. For a moment, I was afraid to ask."
       "Care to tell me what you did together?" I asked. "I'm just
curious, mainly because I've never even seen a restored foreskin."
       "I don't mind telling you at all. Dan was at least as curious as
you are, and we compared. We handled each other's cocks, jacked each
other, and then he docked me." I was slightly surprised hearing this,
because Dan and I had tried docking many years ago, and found that
neither of us had room inside his foreskin for the other's glans.
       "Well, I think we ought to show and tell," I said as I rose and
began clearing the table. I was intensely curious to see his artificial
foreskin and not at all shy about telling him.
       "Yes, I'd like that," he agreed. "He told me about your cock,
and I got the impression it's very handsome." I led him to the bedroom,
where we quickly stripped down to the buff, eyes fixed on each other's
crotches.
       "I can see where they grafted the skin," I said. "The front
part of your prick is redder than the rest, and it's rougher, like
scrotal skin."
       "That's right," he confirmed. "That looks unnatural, and
there's also a thick scar where it joins my shaft-skin. Even though
I've got a foreskin now, I still have a scar ring around my penis."
       "Did you find having foreskin over your glans made it more
sensitive?" I asked.
       "Oh, it did, it really did," he replied. "My tip's a lot more
sensitive now that it's covered and moist than when it was dry. However,
I don't have much sensation in the skin itself, because cutting it loose
for the graft also cut the nerves. Anyway, yours is just as handsome as
Dan described it. You've got a classic anteater foreskin. That long
nipple looks cute." He reached out to roll my foreskin nipple between
thumb and index finger. The effect was immediate and I felt my prick
swelling. I clasped the big bulge in his foreskin and began squeezing his
glans. I could feel that his reconstructed foreskin was considerably
thicker than my natural one, because scrotal skin has a thick layer of
smooth muscle inside it.
       "You've got a big head inside that foreskin," I commented. "I
like that."
       "So do you," he said. My prick was now fully erect and his
nearly so. We sat on the edge of the bed as we continued to fondle each
other's pricks. "Each time you squeeze, it makes my cock-root twitch,"
he continued.
       "Dan and I did that to each other a lot," I explained.
       "He did it to me," Jake said. "I really got a thrill handling
his uncut cock and making it shoot. I didn't have to pump it too hard
because it was so sensitive, just slide the skin slowly up and down the
big head. I guess I can do the same to you." He began sliding my
foreskin up and down in short strokes as he spoke.
       "Yes, that feels very good, and yes, you'll make me come that
way." I lay back on an elbow, willing to give him the experience of
making me come, as he was fascinated by my prick. I guessed watching my
prick shoot and feeling it throb would enhance his excitement as well.
       "I like the shape of your helmet," he said as he slowly drew my
foreskin down until it snapped into the deep groove behind the head.
"It's a lot like mine." I still held on to his prick as he sat beside
me working on mine, and now I uncapped his engorged glans and saw that it
was the same size and shape as mine, with the same flaring rim. Unlike
mine, his slit did not pout with erection, something which provoked his
comment:
       "I like the way your slit forms a teardrop shape when your tip
swells. I don't see that often." Now I had his helmet fully naked, the
foreskin gathered behind the rim in a thick fleshy ring larger than the
corona.
       "That new foreskin forms a really thick ring behind the head," I
said. "I can feel how it locks in place because of your high corona." I
was having trouble collecting my thoughts because the sensations from my
prick were starting to dominate my consciousness. Jake sensed this, and
he increased the pace of his strokes slightly. This brought a new wave of
sensations into my prick, and I stopped speaking. I did, however, pull
his foreskin up over his helmet, the tightness compressing the nerve
endings as it rode over his corona.
       "Just lie back, Jack," he urged. "Let me do it to you like I
did it to Dan. Just relax and let it happen." I had stopped stroking
him, but still clasped my fingers around his warm prick as the sensations
built up in mine.
       "Your tip's gotten harder now, and the color's darker. I think
you're getting a tickle in the head, now," he said. I nodded, aware
that a strong tickle had begun in my corona as he kept sliding the
foreskin over it, and I felt the gentle pressure of his encircling
fingers with each stroke.
       "Your hole's leaking fluid, Jack," he said. "That's keeping
your skin pretty lubricated." His insistent fingers continued to pour
sensations into my prick, and I knew that he'd have my load pretty soon.
       "Your balls are tight against your body now," he continued as he
worked my foreskin up and down. I felt a sudden jolt of new sensations as
he twisted his fist on my prick, driving my foreskin sideways around the
helmet. My breathing was becoming ragged.
       "That really hit you, didn't it?" he asked, already knowing the
answer. The tickle in my helmet had become more intense and had spread
from my corona all through to the front dome. I was really breathing hard
now, enjoying his magic fingers tickling my nerve endings, and I became
less aware of my surroundings as my mind focused on my prick. The tickle
became a hot tingle, and I knew I was on the edge.
       "Here you go, Jack," he said as the tingle in my helmet
exploded, sending hot sparks of sensation stabbing down my shaft, and the
root of my prick responded in a hard contraction.
       "HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" I grunted as the first hot stream shot up my
urethra. His warm fingers twisted my foreskin again, and my prostate
released another jet that burned its way up my tube, making me cry out in
delighted agony. I grunted again as a third spasm gripped my lower body,
my prick throbbing as another gush poured from my gaping orifice.
       Now I felt his strong fingers pull my foreskin all the way down,
leaving my helmet naked as it expelled another torrent of cream. He held
my foreskin back, giving it rhythmic tugs, to keep my orgasm going
without touching the head, which I think he sensed had become
super-sensitive. I ejaculated several more times as my orgasm faded,
finally just dribbling until I'd drained myself.
       I lay quietly, utterly drained and torpid, for several minutes as
my erection subsided. I felt Jake's gentle fingers sliding my foreskin
up to cover the precious head.
       "I felt every throb of your cock in my fingers when you shot. How
was it for you?" Jake's voice came to me. I opened my eyes and pulled
him down to me, planting a dry kiss on his lips and hugging him. I was
aware of the pool of cream on my stomach and in my pubic hair, sticking
to him as he lay on top of me.
       "It was mind-blowing," I answered. "Now I'm going to do you."
I still clasped his prick, its hardness between us, and I gave it a
gentle squeeze.
       "Can you dock me?" he asked. "That's what Dan and I did. I
made him come first, so that he'd lose his erection, and then there'd
be enough room inside his skin for my helmet." He got off me and lay on
his side, and I rolled over to face him. I held him so that the ends of
our pricks touched, and gently pushed his foreskin back until it gathered
in a thick fleshy ring behind his rim.
       "Here, hold your prick steady," I instructed him as I let go.
Now I grasped the edges of my long foreskin with both hands and stretched
out the orifice. Jake eased his prick forward and the blunt nose of his
helmet slipped into my hood. I pushed myself toward him slightly and
pulled my foreskin all the way over his head, engulfing it completely.
Now I clamped the fingers of my right hand around the end of my foreskin,
holding it in place around his drawn-back hood.
       I felt his hot hard helmet pressing against my limp and shrunken
one as he began thrusting gently. I twisted my fist to give him the
delicious sideways sensations that rapidly brought on orgasm. I felt his
hardness throb inside my hood as he reacted.
       We stared into each other's eyes as I felt his excitement
mounting. Connected by our pricks, we were perfectly in tune, and I knew
that Jake would have a thunderous orgasm, as he was already primed by the
vicarious excitement of having made me come.
       "Lots of room inside your skin," he remarked as he continued to
thrust gently, driving his glans against mine. With the core of my prick
totally shrunken, there was ample room inside my long hood to accommodate
his helmet, which was the same bulk as mine. I felt the sharp outline of
his flaring corona through my foreskin as it moved. The inside of my hood
was well lubricated by my lube and my sperm, softening the friction, and
I knew that this would make him last longer before he lost control and
spent himself inside me.
       "I'll be shooting my jizz into your skin soon," he whispered
expectantly. "It feels so good and warm inside your skin."
       "Just relax and enjoy the ride, Jake. I want it to be good for
you." His breathing was getting heavier, and I knew his excitement was
mounting. The smile faded from his face as he got deeper into the ride,
and I was glad I was able to give him one of the sublime experiences of
his life.
       Each thrust drove his glans hard against mine, and I hoped that
the repeated ramming action wouldn't make me hard again before he'd
finished. I knew there wasn't enough room for two big helmets inside my
hood.
       Jake was now breathing through his mouth, sucking in the air he so
badly needed, and he exhaled with grunts. I kept working my foreskin
sideways around his thrusting glans to fuel his fire, and I felt his
helmet become harder and fuller through the skin. Although I couldn't
see it, I knew its color had deepened with congested blood.
       I enjoyed the beauty of the moment, vicariously sharing his
excitement and knowing that soon he'd become lost in sensation as I'd
been minutes before. I listened to his heavy breathing as I watched his
eyes close, and knew that his load would be mine any second. I felt the
tension in his body, transmitted to me by the hot thrusts of his prick
inside my foreskin.
       I heard him cry out at the moment of release, just as I felt his
hot hard helmet hammering against mine, a moment before he flooded my
foreskin with a torrent of hot juice. The hard jet splashed against the
front of my glans and then swirled around inside my foreskin, over and
behind my rim. He cried out again as I felt his glans throb, and another
gush poured from his slit into my hood. I felt his helmet throbbing
against my glans and in my encircling fingers as he discharged again, the
liquid distending my foreskin. Now his glans was swimming in cream, and I
knew there was no danger of excess friction. I eased my grip to let some
cream escape as he poured another load into my hood.
       He was grunting hard, hips bucking in the frenzy of orgasm, his
body straining against mine as he emptied himself into my foreskin. We
were both sweating, caught up in the excitement of the moment, as his
turgid tip bathed mine in liquid fire. Hot liquid seeped from under my
foreskin and over my trembling, encircling fingers as I felt his orgasm
begin to fade. I felt the weaker, dying throbs as he spent himself,
draining his tanks as I'd done minutes ago.
       Jake lay unmoving, his prick tip shrinking inside my foreskin, as
he sank into his daze. I then realized that, as his orgasm had faded, my
prick had started swelling again, as I'd been caught up in the vicarious
excitement. Now we were both still, enjoying the afterglow, and I felt
very satisfied that I'd given him what he'd yearned for.
       We were both feeling very relaxed as he opened his eyes. With our
pricks limp, we were able to snuggle up close and hug. He kissed me
passionately on both cheeks, forehead, and lips.
       "I really loved that," he said.
       "I loved doing it for you, Jake."
       "Shooting inside your skin was such a thrill, Jack."
       "I felt every load you shot," I said. "I felt every throb of
your prick head against mine. I'm so glad you're here."
       "I'm glad I came," he said.
       "I'm glad you came, in both senses," I replied.
       "We're both pretty wet," he said. "Can we take a shower?" I
nodded.
       "Help me change the bed," I said as he sat up. "We can't sleep
in this." We gathered up the soggy sheets and then placed new ones on
the bed before going into the bathroom. We luxuriated under the hot
water, enjoying the sheer sensuality of it, letting the flow rinse the
sweat from our bodies.
       The hot water flowing over my prick stimulated the urge to pee,
and I pinched the end of my foreskin nipple as I relaxed my sphincter.
Jake saw me and immediately pulled his foreskin down to cover his glans,
as it had remained locked behind the rim even as he'd lost his erection.
He pinched his too, and we watched our hoods swell with the pressure.
       When mine was completely distended, I let go, and the resulting
gush poured over our legs. A second later he released his, splashing over
us and falling down to the drain. We pinched our hoods again until our
foreskins were full, and again let go, with the same results.
       "Dan showed that to me," he said.
       "We'd both been doing that since we were kids," I explained.
"Boys learn to do that before they learn to masturbate."
       "Not cut boys," he said ruefully. I sympathized with him. He'd
been the victim of a pernicious practice that had mutilated millions of
American males over the years.
       "Well, at least you've got something back," I consoled him. He
stepped closer to me and we hugged under the hot spray. After about five
minutes of nuzzling and caressing, we shut off the water, got dry, and
went to bed.
       After a deep sleep we got up early next morning. Jake had to go to
work and I had to pick up Mark and take him to school. Jake promised to
contact me if anything new developed with Dan.
       I didn't hear anything for two months, but then Jake called me to
say that Dan was on his way home. I asked him how he'd arranged that.
       "Oh, I didn't arrange it. One of our people in Poland did.
Basically, there was no evidence to Hold Dan, but nobody wanted to
release him, either. It came down to bribery. Handing some cash to a
judge got an order for Dan's release. I know it's not like James Bond
stuff, but it's a lot safer." He promised to bring Dan directly to my
place once he got off the plane two days from now. As it happened, Mark
was away at camp for the month, and I was confident we would not be
disturbed.
       That day I shopped for steaks and side dishes, and was ready to
prepare dinner when Dan and Jake arrived. Jake's car pulled up at four,
and I held the door while they came in. Dan had only a small suitcase
with him, and explained that although he'd been released, the polish
police were still holding all of his possessions, including his clothing,
as "evidence."
       "They even confiscated my watch, my digital voice recorder, and
my clothing, including underwear," explained Dan. We had to stop and buy
me clothing before going to the airport. All I was wearing was my prison
uniform. I wouldn't even have had that except that the guy who escorted
me to the airport bribed a guard."
       "Hell, be glad they didn't confiscate the skin off your cock,"
laughed Jake.
       "No, even the corrupt Polish cops wouldn't do that," Dan
laughed. "That's going too far, even for them." I began fixing drinks
while we sat in the kitchen.
       "I'm glad to have you back," I said fervently as I handed Dan
his drink.
       "The mission wasn't a total failure," said Jake. "We did get
Dan back, although we lost the material."
       "There was a little chip hidden in the digital voice recorder,
explained Dan. "That chip held about 100 Gig of data. The cops never
suspected it was there, but it's in their hands now, probably forever."
       "We'll get the data out somehow," said Jake. "We'll send
someone else, or maybe just have it sent out through the mail.
       "100 Gig is too much to send by burst transmission to a
satellite," added Dan. "That much would take hours to send, and their
electronic emission control people would become aware of it." I prepared
dinner while they elaborated on the events, and soon we sat down to eat.
After we'd finished and I'd cleared the table, Dan said:
       "Jake told me you and he did a comparison while I was gone." He
didn't appear jealous or resentful, merely amused.
       "Yes, we did," I admitted. "I think we both needed it to
relieve the tension."
       "But it was very pleasant while you were relieving the tension,"
he countered with a wicked grin.
       "Too bad you weren't here," I said. "I really wish you had
been."
       "Well, I'm here now," Dan said suggestively and without
subtlety.
       "I'm glad you are," I said as I drew him to me and hugged him.
"I missed you."
       "So did I," added Jake.
       "Let's get undressed and we'll make up for lost time," I
urged. We did just that in the bedroom, and arranged ourselves on the bed
facing each other.
       "When was the last time you guys came?" asked Jake. "I jacked
myself just last week."
       "I did too," I replied, and then we looked expectantly at Dan,
who said:
       "I didn't get a chance for any sexual release while locked up. I
think I had a wet dream a month ago."
       "Then you go first!" exclaimed Jake as he clasped Dan's
foreskin nipple and pulled on it gently. Dan's prick immediately began
to fill out, evidence of his burning need for release. I snuggled closer
to Dan and cupped his balls, feeling them contract in my hand. Jake
shifted his grip and began drawing Dan's hood back over the swollen
head, bringing the leaking aperture into view.
       "His slit's really leaking," Jake observed.
       "I can smell the aroma," I added. Dan's rich masculine odor
emanated from his wet foreskin and mushroom, filling the air. Jake pulled
down harder on Dan's hood, now baring the entire swollen mushroom. We
saw a steady stream of clear fluid seeping through Dan's slit, parting
the lips slightly, and draining down the glans and onto Jake's
enveloping fingers.
       "I can't hold my grip on his skin," Jake said. "It's too
wet."
       "Okay, then work directly on the head with your fingertips," I
advised. Jake held Dan's prick upright with his left hand while he began
caressing the contours of Dan's hard, swollen mushroom with the
fingertips of his right hand. This direct action on Dan's superheated
system had an immediate effect. Dan began moaning and gasping, and I knew
the sensations were very intense for him. Given the length of time he'd
been building up sperm in his system, I thought he'd be discharging
within seconds.
       Dan flopped back on the bed, completely mesmerized by the intense
sensations in his engorged tip. His hips bucked and he gasped loudly, as
each of Jake's delicate caresses on his straining glans was a shock to
his system.
       "His tip's really hard now," Jake commented.
       "Look at how dark it's gotten," I added. "You'll make him
shoot any second. He really needs to go." Jake continued to work his
fingertips around Dan's mushroom, caressing the corona, tracing small
circles around the slit, and rubbing the front dome with the flats of his
fingertips.
       "You're doing fine," I coached him. "Just keep your fingers
moving. Don't stay in one spot because that tires out the nerve
endings." Jake's fingers danced all over Dan's mushroom, which
glistened in its wetness. Now Dan's cries became more high-pitched, and
his entire body tensed. I saw his eyes close just as he yelped in
release.
       A thick gob of white cream shot from his slit, arcing high in the
air, and the powerful chlorine odor of his sperm filled the air. I felt a
powerful throb in my fingertips where they pressed into the skin behind
his scrotum. Dan yelped again, crying out in mindless joy, as a second
stream erupted from his dark red tip. We watched a third geyser slam
through the lips of his slit to land on his stomach. The volume of his
pent up semen was astounding, because I'd never seen him discharge so
much.
       Both Jake and I were caught up in the excitement of watching
Dan's explosion. I felt my prick twitch with excitement, fully erect
although nobody was touching it. Jake's fingers continued to work on
Dan's straining mushroom head, bringing forth another hard jet and
making Dan screech. Dan's hips bucked in the frenzy of his orgasm, and I
said to Jake:
       "Stop rubbing the head. He's too sensitive." Jake immediately
stopped but continued to grip Dan's shaft, holding the foreskin tightly
stretched down. Dan's engorged purple glans erupted again, not as far
this time, although Dan continued to writhe in mindless joy. Dan's next
discharge was weaker yet, and we knew he was coming to the end.
       Now Dan's discharges had settled down to a steady drool, and his
yelps had faded to gasps as he caught his breath. His eyes were still
tightly shut, but we saw the tension gradually leaving his body. Jake
released Dan's penis, and it flopped back onto his stomach, still
seeping fluid.
       Jake and I let Dan lie still as we hugged each other, awed by the
beauty of what we'd just witnessed. We relaxed, although our pricks were
still erect. I felt we should take a breather and let the tension
subside. I enjoyed the feel of Jake's warm body against mine, and we lay
down, face to face, our pricks between our stomachs, throbbing against
each other.
       "Wow! That was earth-shattering," were the first words we heard
from Dan. We looked over at him, and Jake reached out to replace his
foreskin over the head, confident that the super-sensitivity had faded.
Dan took a towel from the bedside table and wiped the pools of cream from
his body, although a couple of drops oozed down onto the sheet.
       "I'd been saving it up for over a month, guys. I really had a
load there," he said. "Once your fingers touched the head of my cock,
Jake, I was gone."
       "You certainly blew a heavy load," I said.
       "Man, your tip was throbbing," Jake added. "I felt it right in
my fingers."
       "I got really sensitive for a second," Dan said. "I felt like
my insides were being torn apart but it felt so good."
       "We noticed that," I said. "You really blasted your cream right
then. That was a powerful jet."
       "I haven't had an orgasm like that since a guy with a really
long foreskin docked me years ago," Dan said. We looked at him with
interest and he continued:
       "He had a really long nipple, as long as his cock, and it dangled
off the head even when he was hard. You know how big my head is, and he
was able to take it all the way. It was long enough to allow some long
stroking, and he jacked our cocks while they were head to head. He had a
big head like mine, and his skin was narrow, so the skin held them end to
end. Our heads didn't slide over each other. He also had a small slit.
I'd seen him shoot before, and the come shot out of that small hole like
a Water Pik, at high pressure."
       "Did you come together?" Jake interrupted.
       "Almost," Dan said. "Close enough for government work. His tip
was even more sensitive than mine, and I felt it throb hard against mine
when he started coming. I guess our slits were right opposite each other
for a moment, because when he came I felt the jet of hot juice drilling
right down my hole. It was so hot it felt like it was burning, and then I
was coming too. Our tips were shooting hard against each other, we were
holding on to each other, and we filled his foreskin until it poured out
the end, all over my shaft."
       "You mean his ejaculation into you triggered your climax?" I
asked. I hadn't known this because he'd never told me about that
episode.
       "Hell, yes," Dan confirmed. "He shot right down my urethra, and
it was like a Water Pik, hot and powerful. The moment that hit me inside,
I lost it. I just started creaming until I was drained."
       "Awesome," Jake whispered. "I wish something like that happened
to me."
       "Me, too," I chimed in. "Well, we've all had different
experiences."
       "Look at us. We're still hard," Jake commented to me. "Just
talking about it kept us hard." He reached for my prick and clasped the
pucker at the end of my foreskin.
       "All of us have enough skin to cover the head even when we're
hard," Dan observed. "Even you, Jake. The plastic surgeon put a lot of
skin on your cock to make up for what you'd lost."
       "He didn't, really," answered Jake. "I just had enough to keep
the head covered when soft. I worked at stretching it to get the extra
length. Anyway, that's mainly for looks. The new skin isn't very
sensitive."
       "Your tip's a lot more sensitive, though. Isn't it?" asked
Dan.
       "It really is," said Jake. "I get more intense comes now that
my tip's more sensitive. It's even too sensitive sometimes, like when I
come. I'm like you guys in that way." Dan listened to Jake speaking,
and then turned to me.
       "Do you still have that buddy sleeve?" he asked. I knew what he
meant. The buddy sleeve is a soft plastic sleeve, or tube, wide enough to
accommodate our erections. We used it to simulate docking, because even
with our long foreskins we'd been unable to take each other's glans
when we were both hard. I opened the bottom drawer of the bedside table
and extracted the buddy sleeve. Dan turned to Jake again.
       "Do you want to use that?" he asked. He didn't have to explain
the purpose of the sleeve, as it was plainly obvious.
       "I'd love it," Jake replied with alacrity. He'd immediately
sensed the implications, for he added: "That way, we can both be hard
and feel each other's tips throbbing when we come." Boosted by Jake's
enthusiastic response I squirted some Astroglide into the sleeve and lay
down facing him.
       "Just lie next to me and we'll slip this on our pricks," I
said. Jake lay facing me as I held the sleeve between us, and he drew his
foreskin back to expose the turgid helmet. Then he inserted his hard
prick into his end, pushing forward until he filled half the tube. I
reached down to slide back my foreskin until it lodged in the deep groove
behind my rim. Now I thrust my hips forward, slipping my prick into the
other half. Lubricated by the Astroglide, my erection slid in easily
until the blunt front dome of my prick pressed against Jake's. At the
contact, I felt a little tingle in the root of my prick that told me I'd
just secreted a drop of lubricant, which was now crawling up my tube.
Jake sighed deeply.
       "That feels good," he said. "Going head to head with another
guy is just heaven." I felt the same way, as I felt the heat from his
hot hard glans penetrating mine. We both began to thrust slightly,
bumping the blunt noses of our helmets together and then withdrawing. I
had wrapped the fingers of my right hand around the sleeve and now
maintained a slight pressure to produce friction as our swollen tips slid
within the tube.
       "I'm not squeezing too hard, am I?" I asked Jake. "I don't
want us to come too fast."
       "No, you're just perfect," he said as he gently thrust his
prick forward to meet mine in the center of the tube. The pressure of his
helmet against the front of mine gently compressed the nerve endings, and
I sighed in delight at the sensation.
       "The longer you stay at it, the more intense it'll feel when you
finally explode," Dan coached.
       "We know," I said as I matched Jake thrust for gentle thrust,
reveling in the erotic sensations of being head to head with him inside
that magic tube. Jake and I stared at each other's faces as we continued
our little dance, focusing on each other as well as on the delicious
sensations in our pricks. I felt a definite sensation of heat emanating
from his prick, enclosed with mine in the tube and surrounded by my
fingers. The heat sensitized the nerve endings in my glans even more, and
I wondered which of us would explode first.
       "Can I hold the tube?" Dan asked me. I realized he wasn't
satisfied being merely a passive witness, but wanted to participate
actively. Without speaking I removed my hand and he wrapped the fingers
of his left hand around the tube right over our tips. I looked over and
saw that his right hand was working the foreskin of his swelling prick.
       "I'm getting horny again just watching you," he explained.
"Anyway, one come wasn't enough after months of abstinence. I need to
bust a nut again."
       "Bust it with us," Jake urged. "It'll be really nice if all
three of us come at the same time." This seemed unlikely to me, as that
degree of synchronization was almost impossible, but even if we came
within seconds of each other, sharing the magic moment, it would be very
gratifying.
       "Oh, gee, I really need to blow again," Dan said as his prick
attained full erection. Jake and I looked at him, and then at each other,
realizing that our excitement fueled each other's fire. Dan was hot from
feeling our thrusting pricks inside the sleeve and our arousal was
augmented by the sight of him becoming excited again.
       "Take it easy, Dan," I warned. "You want to make it last."
       "I know," he said. "I'll be slower this time." I knew he was
right. Men are always slower the second time around. I saw that Dan's
right hand was stroking his hood in a slow, measured pace, and he was
resisting the temptation to speed the process. I returned my attention to
Jake's prick, pressing against mine on each forward thrust. We were well
synchronized, thrusting together to meet in the middle on each stroke.
Dan's left hand was merely applying light pressure to stabilize the
buddy sleeve.
       "I can feel your head's getting harder," Jake whispered.
       "Both of you are getting harder," Dan commented. "I can feel
your rims swelling inside the tube." Dan was in the best position to
monitor our rising excitement, as our helmets went into the final
swelling of the plateau before orgasm.
       "Let's slow a little," I suggested. Jake and I slowed the
rhythm of our thrusts, and I saw Dan's hand also slow on his penis,
taking long strokes at a deliberate pace. The lubricant was overflowing
from his slit, however, and I knew he wouldn't be able to control
himself for long. If the wetness made him lose his firm grip on his
foreskin, he'd have to stimulate his mushroom with his hand, and that
would make him pop immediately, as we'd found out during our long
experience together.
       "This is really hot," Jake whispered, and then leaned forward to
kiss me on the lips. "I just love doing this with you." I felt the same
way, and told him so, after kissing him back.
       "I'm glad to be a part of it too," murmured Dan, his hand still
working his long foreskin in measured strokes that took it all the way up
to form a pucker, and then down to stretch out behind his rim, baring the
groove that rarely saw the light of day. Dan's prick glistened in the
soft room light, slippery with lubricant that had overflowed his foreskin
and was not wetting his fingers.
       "My tip's really hot," Jake whispered. "I don't know how long
I can hold off." I squeezed his hand and said:
       "I don't know either. Let's just let things happen. We're all
together on this, and anything that happens is fine." He squeezed me
back, just as Dan moaned loudly. His foreskin had lodged behind his high
corona, and was too slippery to let him work it forward again. His big
mushroom now felt the contact of his trembling encircling fingers, and I
saw his hips buck.
       "He's going for it," I said to Jake at the same moment that I
felt Dan's fingers tighten on the sleeve. This produced an immediate
strong tickle in my glans, and from the way Jake's eyes widened, I knew
it had done the same to him. We now had no time for words. Jake and I
began thrusting hard, sure that Dan would explode within seconds and
knowing that the tightness of his grip around the tube would force our
orgasms soon. I felt the familiar hot tingle spreading from my rim to the
front dome of my helmet as Jake's tip pressed hard against it in a hot
rhythm.
       "AAAAAHHHH!" Dan cried as I saw a long white jet erupt from his
slit, splashing over Jake and me because he was facing us. His fist went
into a convulsive grip around our straining tips inside the sleeve, and I
felt Jake's helmet throb hard against mine as we both exploded. Jake and
I were totally caught up in the frenzy of orgasm, and we thrust hard
against each other, bathing each other's helmet in the hot ejaculate. I
felt our mixed fluids swirling around and behind my rim as I shot again.
Jake's hot hard helmet hammered the front of mine as another hot gush
poured from his slit, its heat stimulating the front of my tip. Another
convulsion deep inside me sent another torrent of cream erupting from my
gaping teardrop to splash against his throbbing, thrusting helmet.
       Both our throbbing tips were swimming in lubricant and hot cream
inside the tube, as Jake and I moaned in ecstasy. My eyes were closed but
I still heard Dan moaning as his orgasm continued. The three of us were
lost in the torrent of sensations, the tide overwhelming us and blanking
out our minds as our pricks throbbed in release. We moaned, gasped, and
grunted until we were drained, and then we collapsed against each other,
feeling each other's warmth, as we sank into a pleasant stupor.
       Many minutes later we began to revive. I spoke first:
       "This was a terrific way of celebrating your return, Dan. Thanks
to Jake for what he did too."
       "Thanks to a couple of our guys in Poland too," said Jake.
"They did the tricky part."
       "I know," I said. "Anyway, I'm glad you're here, Jake. It was
more fun with you."
       "Thanks for inviting me to the party. You two hot guys really
made my day."
       "We'll have other days too," I said as I got up and led the way
to the shower.

The end

NOTE: Please do not take this fictional story as a slur against Poland or
the Polish criminal justice system. The incompetence and venality of the
fictional police and judiciary in this story was necessary to the plot,
and is not meant as a reflection on the decent and hard-working real-life
counterparts.