Date: Mon, 15 Aug 2005 10:39:42 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jack Santoro <jackinnm@yahoo.com>
Subject: Tom's Worm, Adult Friends, 1/1

Tom's Worm
by Jackinnm@yahoo.com

     I met Tom at the health club, and got to know him
while riding the exercise bike next to his. He was
shorter than I, stocky, and blond. He was also a year
older than my 28 years, and we found that we had a lot
in common. One Friday evening we finished at the same
time, and headed for the shower. This was the first
time I saw him naked.
     There were three other guys showering in the big
room, which had a dozen showerheads around the walls
but no stalls, so we could see each other clearly.
Naturally, we checked each other out discreetly, and
Tom and I noticed that we were the only uncut guys.
One of the others had a thick jagged brown scar around
his prick, as if he'd been trimmed by a mad doctor
using pinking shears. When we'd been born, only about
half the boys got circumcised at birth, and maybe
another 20 percent during childhood by doctors trying
to pick up extra bucks to pay for their Hawaiian
vacations.
     Tom's prick was unlike mine, a smooth tapering
worm, thicker at the base, and tapering down to a
thick pucker at the end. The skin was smooth and
unblemished, and I couldn't see the outline of the
head underneath. Mine was heavy-ended, with the bulge
of my bulky helmet visible through the skin, which
formed a long nipple at the end. I saw that Tom had to
hold the skin back while he washed the small red head
underneath, and the moment he let go, the skin slipped
forward again. Mine locked behind the flaring rim of
my helmet, and I just let it rinse in the shower
stream.
     As we were drying off, Tom suggested I come to
his place for drinks, and I eagerly accepted. When we
got to his apartment, he pulled two beers from the
refrigerator, and we quenched our thirst while
talking. Tom was recently divorced, as I was, and the
conversation turned to how much better sex with men
was than with women.
     "Only another man knows how to pleasure a man,"
he began. "Most women just don't know how to handle a
cock."
     "I know. I found that out with my wife," I
replied. "She just wanted me to ram it in, and that
was that. Foreplay was mainly to get her ready." Tom
stood and began undressing, and I did the same, as we
both expected that the evening would involve sex. We
left our clothes in neat piles and he led me to his
bedroom, which contained a large queen size bed. We
sat next to each other, and I felt the warmth of his
skin against my right thigh. His hand closed around
the end of my prick, which was swelling rapidly.
     "I just love hand jobs," he said as he began to
slide my foreskin in short jiggles over the head. Even
hard, I have enough foreskin to cover the head, and as
I pinched his glans through the thick hood, I saw that
his head remained covered too when he got hard.
     "We both have enough skin to cover the heads, I
see." I felt his tip swell and harden through the
thick hood, but even fully erect it was much smaller
than mine.
     "Can I pull it back?" he asked. I nodded, and Tom
slowly uncovered my glossy purple helmet, and a drop
of lube parted the pouring lips of my slit. I reacted
by skinning his back, and saw that the head had a nice
mushroom shape. His rim was flat, not flaring like
mine, and when I let go the hood glided forward to
cover the head completely.
     "Yours doesn't stay back like mine," I commented
as I slid it slowly up and down the head. I held it
back with one hand, and lightly touched the wet tip of
his glans with a finger of the other. He shuddered and
said:
     "Please don't do that. The tip's too sensitive
for direct action. Just slide the skin." I wasn't
surprised, because I'd noticed that guys with tight
foreskins tend to have more sensitive tips than mine.
     "Mine's not that sensitive. You can touch it if
you want," I said. His finger began to spread the drop
of clear fluid in small circles around my slit. "That
feels really good," I said as he caressed the contours
of my glans in widening circles.
     "Yours stays back," he said as he pulled my hood
back to ride over my high flaring ridge and lock into
the deep groove behind it. "I don't have a big head
like yours, so it always slides forward again."
     "Want me to just work the skin?" I asked as I
cupped his balls with my other hand, feeling them
tighten against his body.
     "OOOHHH, yes, I really need that, I'm so horny. I
haven't come for a wekk." I kept working his foreskin
up and down the small head, aware of the effect my
touch had on him. I pushed him flat on the bed.
     "Here, let me do you first," I suggested. "You
really need to come, and I'll finish you and then you
can do me." Tom relaxed on the bed, his hand still
wrapped around my prick, slowly stroking my foreskin
in long sensual strokes.
     I lay next to him. Making sure he could still
reach my penis, as I worked his hood up and down the
precious head. His breathing deepened, and I felt his
body begin to tense. His tip was very sensitive, and
my strokes were quickly bringing him close to the
edge.
     "That's sooo gooood," he whispered. "You really
know how to do it to me." As he spoke, I felt his
glans becoming harder and losing its spongy feel
inside its fleshy envelope, evidence that orgasm was
near. I slowed my pace to avoid sending him over the
edge too quickly, because I knew how good the
delicious feeling of anticipation could be.
     "Just relax and leave the driving to me," I
urged, slowly sliding his hood without uncovering the
hot hard glans. "I'll bring you to the edge nice and
slow, so you can enjoy every moment."
     "Yess," he whispered as my fingers heightened his
arousal. I pulled back a bit harder to expose the tip
of his glans on the down-stroke, and saw that it was
now deep red.
     "You're really close now," I muttered as I saw
his eyes begin to close. I recognized the sign because
my eyes also close when I'm about to come. He was
withdrawing into himself, focusing on the captivating
sensations in his prick, the same way I do.
     "When I start coming, let go. My prick gets very
sensitive when I start coming," he said. I felt the
first warning throb beneath my fingers, and I knew
he'd pop any second. I slowed my rhythm even more,
wanting him to slide slowly into the abyss. His hips
bucked, and he moaned loudly.
     "Here you go," I said as I felt his prick give a
hard throb in my encircling fingers. A heavy jet shot
through the pucker in his foreskin and I yanked the
thick hood back. A second white jet shot onto his
chest as I let go. His foreskin snapped forward and
shut over his glans as another gush poured from the
thick pucker at the end of his hood. I heard him
moaning loudly and he thrashed on the bed, completely
lost in the sensations. I cupped his balls, pressing
my fingers into the tender flesh behind them, feeling
the pulses of his cock-root in my fingertips. I saw
his prick jerk several more time, gushes streaming
from the end onto his stomach, and then he was still.
     He'd released my prick when he'd begun shooting,
and now he lay passively, hands at his sides, while
his breathing slowed and he returned to full
consciousness. Watching and feeling his orgasm had
enhanced my excitement, and my prick was fully hard,
foreskin drawn tightly back, locked in position behind
my corona. I hadn't had an orgasm in a week, either,
and I was very ready to release my pent-up load.
Finally, he opened his eyes.
     "Man, that was intense," he said. "You really did
a number on me."
     "I enjoyed it, Tom," I said as I handed him a wad
of Kleenex to sop up his load. As he wiped his chest
and stomach, he continued:
     "I'll leave my prick till last. It's still too
sensitive to touch. Yours get that way?
     "Sometimes," I replied. "That lasts only a few
seconds, until I've finished coming." Tom didn't skin
back to wipe his prick. He just milked it, and dabbed
at the large creamy drops that oozed from the end of
his foreskin.
     "That's enough," he said. "I'll get the rest when
we shower. Now lets take care of you."
     I lay back on the bed, and Tom straddled my
thighs as he cupped my balls with one hand while the
fingers of the other ran lightly over my naked glans.
I shuddered at his touches.
     "That too much for you?" he asked.
     "No, just keep doing it. That feels so sensitive,
and you're going to make me come soon. I'm already so
hot from watching you." Lube poured from my meatus,
making my glans very slippery and masking the
sensations somewhat.
     "Okay, buddy, just relax and let me take care of
you," he said as he leaned forward to kiss me lightly
on the lips. His fingers danced over my naked glans,
sending hot sparks of sensations stabbing deeply into
my prick, and I felt my crotch muscles tightening,
even though I tried to stay relaxed.
     "Relax, relax," he said, as his magic fingers
brought me closer to the point of no return. The
sensations were so intense that I felt as if orgasm
would begin the next second, but I wasn't there yet.
     "Your tip's turning darker purple," he said. "I
can feel it getting harder now." His fingers traced my
ridge, running down and into the hot spot under my
glans, then moving up the other side. Now he grasped
my shaft with hiis other hand, pulling down hard to
stretch the nerve endings in the skin and uncover the
tender flesh of my groove. His fingers caressed the
back face of my ridge and teased the tissue in my
groove, making me moan loudly in response.
     "Should I stop when you start coming?" he asked
as his fingers caressed the broad upper surface of my
hard glans.
     "No, just keep going," I replied through clenched
teeth as I felt his fingers trace the outline of the
big front dome around my slit, spreading the lube over
my tortured nerve endings. Now his fingers encircled
my rim, and I felt a throb deep inside.
     "You're close, close, buddy," he said as another
hot throb filled my prick. My eyes closed, and I got
ready for the sensations that would alter my
consciousness and send me tumbling into the free-fall
of orgasm. Now my swollen glans was tingling under his
hot touches, and the tingling spread down my shaft.
Now I felt the first pounding contraction in my
cock-root, and a burning sensation as the first hot
gush poured into my tube. My glans, aching for
release, exploded, and I was in mindless joy as I shot
my first load.
     "Go for it!" I heard Tom say in the distance as
his fingers danced over my throbbing tip, drawing
another jet from my pulsing prick. My cock throbbed
again and again as I writhed on the bed, helpless in
his hands, as his tantalizing fingertip touches
sparked more eruptions.
     Tom stopped when my pulses ceased, and now my
prick lay on my stomach, oozing its last drops as my
sensations faded. I felt Tom wiping my chest and
stomach with Kleenex, and finally opened my eyes.
     "Looks like we're ready for another shower," he
said as he pulled me up off the bed and led me into
his bathroom. He turned on the water and we stepped
into the stall, where he began washing me down with a
large sponge soaked with liquid soap. My prick was
limp now, foreskin forward, and I felt a familiar
urge.
     "I have to pee," I said, wondering if he'd tell
me to step out and do it in the toilet. Instead, he
pinched the end of my foreskin with two fingers.
     "Let it go, man. This is what I do when I have to
pee in the shower." I relaxed my crotch muscles and I
felt the hot stream course through my prick and
watched my foreskin expand under the pressure.
     "I make mine balloon too," I said as we both
watched my foreskin swelling as it filled with urine.
Tom let go, and my thick yellow gushed poured out
between us, swirling down the drain at our feet.
     "Now I have to pee," Tom said. "That beer went
through me the same way it did you." I took the broad
hint and pinched the end of his foreskin as he let go.
We watched avidly as his fleshy hood filled,
ballooning out just
 as mine had.
     "That's flushing the cream from under my
foreskin," he said. "Okay, let go." I knew that if I'd
held on a moment longer, it would have become
uncomfortable for him, so I released his foreskin and
his heavy gush sprayed our legs and the floor of the
shower before running down the drain. Tom pulled back
his foreskin, letting the shower stream wash over his
exposed red glans.
     "That's the final rinse," he said. I followed his
example, retracting my foreskin to rinse my glans, but
also because I knew he enjoyed seeing it, so different
from his own. Now we both covered our tips with their
protective envelopes and dried ourselves, feeling the
lassitude that follows orgasm.
"Stay with me tonight," he said. "Tomorrow's Saturday,
and in the morning we can do this again." We did.

The end