Date: Thu, 13 Jan 2005 07:25:21 -0800 (PST)
From: Jack Santoro <jackinnm@yahoo.com>
Subject: Weekend With Tim, Part 1, Adult Friends 1/3

Weekend With Tim, Part 1
By Jackinnm@yahoo.com

NOTE: This is the story of one of the most erotic
weekends of my life, the one I spent with Tim. It was
also very emotional because we'd gotten to know each
other well during a months-long exchange of e-mails,
shared our feelings, and developed a relationship.

I'd met Tim on the Internet, and we'd exchanged many
e-mails filled with personal details about ourselves.
I was 66, and he 43. Tim was very happy to find out
that I was Bi, as he was. We'd both been married and
divorced, and we agreed that men know how to please
other men better, and that as Bisexuals, we got the
best of both possible worlds.
Tim worked at a blue-collar job, but he seemed very
intelligent, and his e-mails showed that he was very
expressive and articulate. We discovered that we had
other things in common as well. Despite the
differences in our ages we shared certain tastes. We
both liked merlot, fine food, and we both enjoyed
unhurried mutual masturbation that progressed slowly
to a shattering orgasm.
	Tim had his own web site, and invited me to visit it.
I found many photos of him on the site, and some
showed him naked in several poses. The frontal view
was the most interesting for me as it displayed his
prick and its big helmet. He had a sturdy and muscular
athletic build, with a flat stomach, and more body
hair than I did. He had well-shaped legs, with
well-defined muscles, as on the rest of his body. He
also wore a mustache, while I was clean shaven. I also
saw a tattoo on his arm and another on his abdomen.
I'd never been tattooed.
	He'd seen photos of my equipment on one of the penis
web sites, and knew what mine looked like. He'd told
me that he'd love to get his hands on it, so that we
could enjoy a long, slow, and unhurried mutual j/o
session.
	He'd written me that he was really into his prick,
eager to get the most pleasure from it. We both
thought our pricks were handsome, and with their
straight shafts and big helmet shaped heads there was
good reason to think so. Our feelings towards our
pricks were frankly narcissistic.
	As he'd been circumcised at birth, Tim was surprised
when I'd written him that the foreskin on the end of
my penis was not the one with which I'd been born. We
both resented having been clipped because this had
reduced the sensitivity of our pricks, and this shared
feeling drew us closer. However, I'd had plastic
surgery to re-create a hood 22 years earlier, and
while Tim had experimented with stretching his
shaft-skin to form a new hood, he hadn't progressed
with it.
	Although we agreed that the difference in our ages
made a long term relationship problematic, we also
agreed that we'd enjoy sexual exploration. He'd
written:
	"Basically, I'm looking for a good friend and j/o
bud-albeit a SOPHISTICATED j/o bud. I think you fit
the bill! I don't think there are many men out there
interested in prolonged, exquisite, fine tuned sex
play with another man. I would certainly love to
experience those fantastic pleasures with my penis in
your capable hands (and fingers). In return, I would
love to pleasure you and your penis in the same way.
The only deficiency on my part is lacking a hood. Even
so, I can still get a lot of pleasure out of my naked
helmet." He further wrote:
	"A fantasy of mine would be to hold and feel your
erect, throbbing cock at the same time you are slowly
pleasuring mine- and especially so at the moment of my
orgasm."
	He was eager to have a hot sexual encounter with me,
and that summer Tim invited me to spend a weekend with
him. I quickly accepted, although I knew we could not
establish a lasting relationship.
	I set off on the thousand mile trip from Albuquerque
to Omaha, knowing it would take about two days. We'd
agreed that I'd arrive late on Friday afternoon, so
that we might have the weekend together. It was a
pleasant summer day when I arrived at Tim's apartment,
and he had a glass of merlot in his hand when he
opened the door. I heard Wagner playing in the
background and I was not surprised. He'd written me:
	"The music of Wagner is erotic to me and usually
produces an erection."
	"Hi," I said shyly, a bit nervous. "I'm Jack." Tim
was a hair less than six feet, and appeared to be
about 175 lb., slightly shorter than my 6'2" and 205
lb.
	"I recognize you from your picture," he said,
smiling. "Come on in. Have a glass." He'd set out a
glass for me on the kitchen table, and he filled it as
I sat down in a chair.
	"Have a good trip?" he asked.
	"Yeah, not much traffic, and I just set the cruise
control and played music from the CD deck," I
answered. We were trying to break the ice, and I
sensed he felt slightly awkward, as I did. While
exchanging e-mails we'd been very open with each other
over the months but face to face we were somewhat shy.
We had, however, developed a strong bond, and I
decided to take this a step further:
	"Can I hold your hand while we talk?" Tim hesitated a
moment and replied:
	"It would feel better if you held my cock. I'd like
that very much." He spread his legs and I saw the
outline of his half-hard prick down his left thigh
through the fabric. I eagerly reached out and lightly
traced the outline of his helmet.
	"Is that okay?" I asked as I ran my finger up his
shaft.
	"That's fine," he breathed softly. "I'd like to touch
yours too. I've seen the pictures, and I'd like to
feel it in my hand." I was wearing looser clothing
than he was, and I unzipped my fly with my other hand.
He snaked his fingers through the zipper and I felt
his fingertips probing for my prick. I felt a pleasant
tingle begin where his fingertips grazed my prick, and
I sighed as the tingle spread down my shaft.
	"Mine's on the left too," I prompted him and he
reached through the slit in my boxer shorts. His thumb
and index finger grasped my long thick foreskin and
tugged gently.
	"I like this part of you," he commented. "I've wanted
to get my hand on it from the first time I saw the
pictures." My prick was beginning to respond to his
expert and delicate touch, and I felt his prick
thickening further under my stroking fingers as well.
	"Let me get it out before it's too stiff to handle,"
I said as I unzipped his fly and reached in for his
penis. Tim also wore boxers and I brought his prick up
to poke through the slit.
	"We both wear boxers," he observed.
	"I like them because of the freedom they give me," I
explained. "I don't like the way other types bind, and
I like it when my prick and balls can swing a little
in my shorts." Tim's thick purple helmet was now
between my fingers and I pulled slightly to extract
more of his shaft.
	"I like your cock, the way it looks and the way it
feels," he said as he gently stroked my foreskin up
and down my now hard helmet. "It's so warm."
	"I like yours too," I replied as I grasped his shaft
behind the head and moved the skin up and down,
testing its tightness. He had enough slack to let me
bump the rim of his now fully swollen head.
	"That feels nice," he breathed, taking another sip of
wine. "I'm really glad you're here."
	"I'm glad to be here," I said. "I'm really glad you
invited me."
	"I've been looking forward to this weekend," he
added.
	"I've got to tell you, Tim, I've been falling asleep
at night thinking and fantasizing about stroking with
you. I thought a lot about feeling your warm fingers
around my prick." He gave my penis a squeeze as he
heard this, and I reciprocated.
	"I just got home from work, and you've been on the
road all day," he said. "We could use a shower."
	"I'd love to take a shower with you," I answered.
"We'll get better acquainted that way." We lifted our
glasses and as we downed the last of our wine a
pleasant glow spread through my body. He got up and
led me to the bedroom, where we began stripping down.
Our eyes were fixed on each other as we undressed, and
when we dropped our shorts we were exposed to each
other's gaze and touch. Tim walked over to me and
grasped the end of my long foreskin between two
fingers. At his touch, I felt a pleasant tingle in my
prick.
	"I wish I had one of those," he said. "I'm glad you
do."
	"Yeah, but it cost me $7500 in surgical and hospital
bills to get it," I replied. "It's not as good as the
original one."
	"It's still nice," he said as he turned and led me
into the bathroom. Inside the shower, he turned on the
water, and we relaxed, enjoying the sensual feel of
the spray coursing over our bodies. His low-hanging
sac dropped even lower under the influence of the hot
water.
	"I've got to pee," I said. "It's the wine. Okay if I
pee in here? I don't want to gross you out."
	"That's okay," he replied. "I've got to pee too. Just
go ahead." My erection had gone down somewhat, and my
sphincter was no longer locked up.
	"Ever see anyone do this?" I asked as I pinched the
end of my foreskin shut. I relaxed and start the
stream, which distended my foreskin as we watched.
	"No, I never saw that," he answered as I released my
foreskin and the resulting gush fell onto our feet. He
quickly grasped the end of my hood between thumb and
forefinger, pinching it shut and making the fleshy
tube distend with the pressure. When it was swollen to
almost twice the diameter of my shaft he let it go,
commenting:
	"That is cute, really cute. I wish I had one of
those." Meanwhile, he'd relaxed his sphincter and a
yellow stream poured from the end of his helmet to
swirl on the floor and vanish down the drain. Pinching
the end of my prick again, he said:
	"This must feel nice, the urine running around under
your skin."
	"It does, you can be sure of that," I said as he let
go, releasing the accumulated fluid. "I think I'm at
the end," I continued. His stream had stopped too.
	"I haven't seen your helmet yet, although you've seen
mine," he said. "Can I push your skin back?"
	"Go right ahead, Tim. I have to peel it to rinse
underneath anyway." He steadied the base of my shaft
with one hand while pushing my long thick hood back
with the other until it locked behind my rim.
	"Your skin always stay back by itself?" he asked.
	"Always, even when soft," I replied.
	"You've got a big rim like me and it flares a bit
more," he observed. "I guess that flare holds it
back."
	"That's right. Plus my foreskin's kinda tight."
	"It's pretty thick, too," he said. "I like that."
	"The scrotal skin the doctor used for the graft makes
it thick," I explained. Tim picked up the soap and
began running the bar over my chest.
	"Mind if I soap you up?"
	"Only if you let me do you," I replied. He picked up
a washcloth and worked it lovingly over my body, from
neck down to feet.
	"You want a little soap on this?" he asked, pointing
to my prick.
	"Not necessary. It doesn't get that dirty. Anyway, if
I left a residue of soap inside my hood it would only
irritate it."
	"I don't use much on mine, either. It doesn't get
dirty," he laughed. Tim continued to work over me with
the soap and washcloth, and then handed them to me. I
soaped him thoroughly, taking my time because I knew
he was enjoying it. When I'd finished, we turned
around under the water to rinse off completely, and
then he shut off the tap. Grabbing a towel, he dried
me, and then I dried him. As we'd paid a lot of
attention to our crotches, we were both hard when we'd
finished. I pulled my foreskin forward.
	"Your cock's a little thicker than mine," he said.
"The skin covers the head when hard, too."
	"Yeah, I've got a lot of foreskin length. I stretched
it out after the surgery."
	"Both of ours stick straight out," he observed. "Mine
used to be higher, but that was years ago."
	"Me too. It's not like when I was a kid," I replied.
Tim went into the bedroom, and we sat on his
queen-size. I could hear Wagner's "Valkyrie" still
playing in the living room.
	"How old were you when you first jacked off?" he
asked.
	"I was 12. One day after school I was in the bathroom
and I started stroking my
 prick like this." I demonstrated by grasping his
shaft with thumb on top and two fingers underneath and
began sliding the shaft skin up just enough to
compress his corona. His shaft skin was looser than
mine had been.
	"That feels good," he said. "What happened then?" I
kept stroking his shaft skin as I continued:
	"I kept it up for awhile, and it felt better and
better. Then I got a tickling feeling in the head, and
I felt like I had to pee. I did it faster, and
suddenly it felt like an electric shock had hit my
body. I saw stars in front of my eyes, and my prick
started throbbing. It suddenly got too sensitive, and
I had to let go. I don't know how long I sat with my
arms hanging down, waiting for that magic feeling to
stop. When it ended, I had tears in my eyes. That
orgasm had been so intense I'd cried. I thought I
might have broken something inside me."
	"Did you shoot?"
	"No, that first one was a dry orgasm. So was the one
next afternoon. I didn't have any discharge for
months, and then I got a couple of drops of clear
fluid. Over the next year it gradually became white."
I was still gently stroking Tim's prick, feeling its
warmth, and gazing at the shapely purple helmet.
	"Ever use lube?" he asked.
	"Yeah, I experimented with Vaseline, and found it too
sticky. Then I tried soap, beating off in the bathtub,
but the soap irritated my skin. I tried different
types of oil too."
	"I tried different lubes too," he said. "Now I use
Albolene. It's not too thick, and feels very nice."
	"Want me to try different sensations on you?" I
asked. Tim nodded and I told him to lie down. Grasping
his engorged glans between thumb and forefinger, I
began to squeeze it rhythmically, about once a second.
	"Feel anything?" I asked.
	"Yeah, it's making my cock-root throb. It's really
erotic."
	"That's the bulbo-cavernal reflex," I explained. "I
don't know if I could make you come this way, but it
might. Now let's try something else." I pulled a
corner of the bed-sheet over his six-inch erection and
began running my fingertip up the underside through
the cloth.
	"Now that feels nice, a long slow stroke," he said. I
began concentrating on the vee-cleft under his glans,
caressing the tender frenulum through the cloth. Tim
sighed deeply and said:
	"That feels really good. That's a really sensitive
part on me."
	"I know," I laughed. "You wrote me that in an
e-mail."
	"I know I could come if you kept this up." I changed
my stroke from lengthwise to sideways strumming of his
gee-string.
	"Good thing the doctor didn't remove this when he
circumcised you. The guy who did me clipped mine." I
saw the tension build in Tim's body, and knew that he
was really feeling it. Suddenly he sat up and said:
	"Okay, that's enough for me right now. I don't want
to come too soon. You lie down and I'll explore your
cock." I stopped and lay flat on my back, legs
slightly parted, and Tim propped himself up on one
elbow beside me. My prick was half-hard, and he began
squeezing my glans through the covering hood.
	"Does this work through the skin, too?" he asked.
	"Oh, yeah," I replied. "My cock-root's throbbing with
each squeeze. Put one finger down past my balls, by my
perineum. You'll feel the throbs then." Tim shifted
his position and slid one finger between my sac and my
thigh until it pressed lightly against my perineum.
	"Now I can feel them. Each time I squeeze your
helmet, your root throbs, just like mine did." He kept
up the rhythm, and continued:
	"I really enjoy this, making your cock throb. I like
the way it feels, the way it's warm, and the way it's
making your cock harder."
	"I know you do. I enjoyed doing it to you, too,
knowing it was giving you pleasure."
	"Now that it's hard, does the skin go back?" he
asked.
	"It sure does," I replied. "Just grab it firmly and
push it back."
	"You were right, Jack, your skin's pretty tight. It's
tighter than other uncut guys I've played with. Sure
it doesn't hurt when I pull it back over that big
helmet?" Tim had a firm grip on my foreskin and was
pressing it down tentatively.
	"No, just go ahead. It doesn't hurt at all." He
pressed harder, and the dome of my glans appeared.
	"I love doing this. I really love it when the helmet
starts to come out." As he spoke he continued to press
the thick hood back.
	"That feels good for me," I said. "Both the pressure
and the friction are hitting my helmet." Now Tim gave
my thick fleshy sleeve a slight twist and my breath
caught in my throat.
	"That did something for you, didn't it?" he asked. "I
found that twisting the skin a little gives an extra
thrill to uncut guys."
	"It did, Tim," I answered. "Even to a formerly cut
guy like me." Now he pressed the hood back farther
until it sat poised on my rim, and inhaled deeply, a
puzzled look on his face.
	"Yours doesn't smell like other uncut guys' cocks,"
he said.
	"That's because the damn doctor removed all of my
inner lining, so I don't produce smegma," I explained.
"That butcher cut me really tight."
	"I like the look of that big purple head," he said.
"It looks so shiny because it's not dry like mine. It
must be pretty sensitive."
	"It got more sensitive once it was covered with
foreskin," I explained. "That kept it moist and
protected." Now Tim pushed the bunched fleshy ring
behind my rim into the groove.
	"That skin makes your cock really thick behind the
rim," he observed. "It feels really good in my hand."
	"Yeah, it bunches up that way when it's skinned
back," I said.
	"That's a really nice rim," he said. "I see yours
curves up a bit more than mine does. Is it really
sensitive there?"
	"My rim's very sensitive, Tim," I answered. "You
could make me come just by bumping the foreskin
against the rim."
	"You've got those little bumps on the back of your
rim. I've got them too."
	"I think those are nerve endings," I said. "I've had
them as long as I can remember. I noticed them on your
rim too."
	"We've both got beautiful helmets," he said, and
slowly began to jiggle my foreskin ring, bumping it
against the ridge with each stroke.
	"I think so too," I agreed. "It's a turn-on seeing
your big helmet swollen and proudly sticking up."
	"Your slit really pouts," he observed. "Now that your
helmet's hard it looks like a teardrop."
	"I noticed yours has a really long slit," I said.
"That looks nice too." I placed my forefinger against
his meatus, gently pressing inward. The lips parted
under the pressure and my fingertip slid into the
orifice, making his prick jerk.
	"We're really into our cocks," he said as he leaned
down and kissed me lightly on the forehead. This
tender gesture made my heart almost skip a beat.
	"Your fingers are warm. You're a lot of fun to be
with," I said. I leaned down to kiss his helmet right
on its rim.
	"I'm really glad you came here," he riposted as he
gave my foreskin a backward tug that made my prick
throb.
	"Ooohh, that stretched the nerve endings," I
commented. "That felt really good."
	"I thought it would. You'd written me about that.
Anyway, do you shoot or dribble?"
	"When I was a teen, my prick would shoot three feet,"
I said. "Now it usually dribbles. My orgasms feel just
as intense, though. How about you?"
	"I still shoot a little," he replied. "At least the
first jet goes a few inches. The rest just dribbles.
It feels good, though."
	"I'm gonna get a thrill from making you come and
watching the cream spurt from that big helmet,
though." As I spoke I grasped his shaft and gave a
couple of light squeezes. Then I took his helmet
between thumb and forefinger, giving it a few
squeezes.
	"You wrote that you don't get much lube," he said. "I
can see you're not lubing right now." As he spoke I
felt a wetness under my fingertip, and realized that a
drop of lubricant has oozed from his slit.
	"You're lubing a bit," I said as I began spreading
the clear viscous liquid in small circles around his
leaking orifice.
	"Yeah, I'm gettin' there," he confirmed. "You're
making me very hot." Tim began moving my hood in long
slow strokes over my helmet, sending a thrill into my
nerve endings with each cycle.
	"I think you're ready to come," I said. "Want me to
finish you?"
	"What about you? Are you ready?" His expert fingers
were skillfully pumping my foreskin over the contours
of my glans, building up my excitement.
	"I think I can hold off for awhile," I responded.
"Let me do you first, so I can see and feel you come."
	"Okay, but let me get the Albolene," he said. "I
don't make enough lube naturally." He reached over to
the bedside table. "Here's put some on my helmet, then
work it in with your fingers." I shifted my position,
steadied his shaft with my left hand, dipped three
fingers into the jar, and began to spread it over his
congested tip, following the contours carefully.
	"That's nice, really nice," he sighed. "Just go
slowly so I don't come in a rush."
	"Okay, Tim, just relax and let me do the work," I
coached him. "I'll work around your rim, and then
spread it all over the top. I know that the orgasm's
more intense when there's a long build-up."
	"Can I play with your skin while you're doing it?" he
asked. "It really turns me on sliding your skin over
that beautiful helmet. Will it make you come if I go
slowly?"
	"Go ahead, darling," I answered, and a look of
surprise appeared on his face. "That's what I say
sometimes. I've got a really warm feeling about you. I
want to give you pleasure, make you happy." He smiled
up at me.
	"You can call me that any time you want," he sighed,
as I continued spreading the silky creamy lubricant
over his glans.
	"Now just don't stroke me too fast and don't grip my
prick too tightly," I urged. "I think I'll be all
right that way. Now I'm going to get you ready to
shoot your load." My fingertips massaged the cream
into the silky soft surface of his glans, caressing
the nerve endings, as I continued to speak:
	"Now I'm gonna talk you through this," I said. "Just
relax, lie back, and listen. I want to work all the
surfaces of your helmet. I'm not gonna pump you
because that would tire out the nerve endings if I
kept hitting the same spot, say just your rim. You'd
come, but the local sensations wouldn't be as intense.
First, I'm working my fingers lightly around your rim,
down to the underside, and up the other side. I don't
want to work your gee-string yet because we're not
ready for that."
	"Ooooohhhh!" he moaned as my fingertips swept around
his high ridge.
	"That's it, don't tense up, just relax and let the
sensations come to you. Now I'm going to massage the
front dome of your helmet, working around your slit."
My fingertips traced small circles around Tim's long
slit that parted the dome of his helmet at the very
apex. I noticed his breaths were coming faster, but
his strokes on my prick were maintaining.
	"I love to feel your hot cock in my hand," he said.
"I like the way your skin slides." I caressed the
sensitive front dome of his glans, which I knew was
sending further thrills down his prick.
	"Now I'll get into the deep groove behind your rim
because I know you're really sensitive there too. That
strip of skin between your rim and the scar is what
remains of your inner lining, and it's got a lot of
nerve endings." I ran my fingertips around his groove
slowly, letting him feel the ridges of my fingertips.
"I'm also hitting the back-face of your corona, and
that's got a lot of nerve endings." I felt the tension
build in his body as I spoke.
	"Now I'm working around your scar line. Can you feel
that?" His prick jerked between my fingers.
	"Oh, yeah I can feel it!" His face was flushed and
his breathing was more rapid.
	"Your balls are tightening, Tim," I pointed out.
"You're really on your way." Now I changed my pattern,
bringing my fingertips under his glans.
	"Now I'm right at your vee-groove," I explained. "You
told me you're really hot here, and I'm going to work
on that." I began sliding my fingertips up and down
the groove, caressing the thick frenulum he'd kept
despite his circumcision, feeling his prick throb in
response.
	"This is really doing it for you, Tim. I can see your
helmet's gettin' darker purple."  Now I strummed his
gee-string sideways quickly a couple of times, and
felt his prick jerk in my hand.
	"I'm close, close..." He whispered.
	"No, I'm not gonna let you come yet, Tim. I want to
keep you on the edge awhile, let you enjoy the feeling
of anticipation." I stopped strumming his frenulum,
and moved my fingertips to the broad upper surface of
his glans. "Your tip's lost its sponginess," I
continued. "It's really hard now and the rim's
standing out more than before. You're all swollen with
blood, and this makes the surface receptors more
sensitive."
	"Yes...yes..." he moaned. I kept on, lightly stroking
the upper surface of his engorged helmet, side to side
and then lengthwise, my fingers constantly moving to
avoid tiring out the nerve endings in any one spot.
	"You just leaked another drop," I commented. "You're
really hot now." I moved my fingertips to the sides of
his glans, caressing the engorged surfaces to give him
further thrills. Now I stopped.
	"Okay, let's take a break. Take a few deep breaths."
Tim looked up at me, and inhaled deeply several times.
I felt some of the tension leave his body.
	"That'll cool you off for a little bit. Tell me when
you're ready. I want you to enjoy this, feel every
nerve ending when I stroke you."
	"I don't know how much longer I can hold on," he
said.
	"Your fingers are still sliding my foreskin," I
pointed out. "This is helping to stimulate you
mentally."
	"Yeah, it's so hot and sexy holding your cock,
knowing it's yours, sliding that skin over the
beautiful helmet." As he spoke I resumed caressing his
rim, feeling its hardness.
	"Let's get you going again. I won't stop now; I'll
just go slowly and steadily until you can't hold it
any longer and start to cream." My fingertips
continued to trace his rim, also working into the deep
groove behind it, up and down each side of the
engorged corona.
	"Try to stay relaxed, Tim. You'll last longer that
way. The longer you last the more intense it'll be for
you." Now my fingertips circled his slit again, as I
knew he was sensitive there too. Now I swiped my
fingertips sideways across his slit, spreading and
stretching the long lips, and I felt his prick tighten
in my hand. He'd resumed moaning and I knew that I'd
have his load within seconds.
	"Now let's hit your vee-groove," I said and began
caressing his gee-string lengthwise. His body
stiffened and his eyes closed as his moans grew louder
and he began withdrawing into himself.
	"Just relax as much as you can, Tim. Your tip's
really big now, and very dark. I can feel the
tightness in your gee-string too." My fingers slid
along the length of his taut frenulum.
	"Now I'm pulling down on your shaft-skin to put more
tension on your gee-string," I explained as my grip
tightened on his shaft, pulling the skin down towards
the base and making the front of his big helmet dip.
	"I can feel the fren tightening, Tim. Now I'm gonna
strum it hard." I changed to a vigorous sideways
stroking, and I felt Tim shudder uncontrollably as I
did this.
	"You're there!" I said as I felt the first hard throb
in Tim's rigid shaft. A moment later he cried out
helplessly as a thick creamy gush erupted from his
long slit and I smelled the odor of chlorine from his
fluid. The jet rose in the air and fell onto his
stomach as another spasm went through his penis. Tim
was grunting hard with each contraction, and the next
torrent of hot juice spewed from his straining helmet
to land on his stomach. His hips bucked and he cried
out again, enraptured by the hot frenzy of his orgasm.

	Tim's prick continued to throb, but I said nothing
more because I know he was totally caught up in the
mind-numbing convulsions of his orgasm and wouldn't
hear me. The spurts had slowed to a steady dribble
now, and I knew his climax was fading. Tim's fingers
were still around my prick, but unmoving, as he'd
totally lost his concentration.
	Finally he was still, and I gently let his prick down
onto his stomach, where it began to soften and shrink.
Tim's breathing slowed, and I saw and felt the tension
leave his body. I let him lie there to recover, while
I enjoyed the memory of feeling his hot hard prick
throbbing in my hands as it erupted with streams of
hot cream.
	There were some Kleenexes on the bedside table, and I
decided to wipe him down before he'd recovered. I
carefully sopped up the cream on his stomach before it
began to congeal, and then dabbed at the big helmet,
removing both the Albolene and the residue that was
still oozing from his long lips. As I reached under
his balls to begin milking him, he opened his eyes.
	"Hot, huh?" I asked him, a truly useless question
because I knew what the answer would be.
	"Oh, it was, it really was!"
	"It was great for me, too, because I enjoyed your
orgasm vicariously," I continued. "It felt so
intimate, with your hot hard prick throbbing in my
hand, watching the sperm shooting, and seeing your
face as you came."
	"I know, Jack," he said. "That's the best part of
doing each other. I love it when my partner tenses up
and his cock starts throbbing and shooting." He
propped himself up on his elbow. "Now I'm gonna do it
to you." I lay flat on my back, content and
anticipating that hot stimulation he was about too
give me. Tim straddled my thighs, giving him a
commanding view of my body and face.
	"How do you want it?" he asked, his fingers gently
stroking my hood up and down the big helmet.
	"Any way you want," I answered. "Just as long as it's
you touching me I'll enjoy it." I felt his warm
fingers tugging down on my hood, skillfully stripping
it from my glans until it bunched up behind my rim.
	"I think I'll do you the way you did me," he said.
"That really put me into seventh heaven, and since
your helmet's more sensitive than mine, it ought to
make you jump to the ceiling." From the corner of my
eyes I saw him dip the fingers of his right hand into
the Albolene as he steadied my prick with his left.
	"That's gonna really work on me," I said. "A friend
of mine taught me that trick. When he began stroking
my helmet with his fingertips, I jumped. It's really
sensitive for me." Tim began caressing my crown with
his lubricated fingertips, making my prick throb
reflexively. I began gasping and moaning.
	"I felt that," he said. "Sure it's not too intense
for you?"
	"No, go ahead," I said through gritted teeth. "It's
intense, and it feels like I'm gonna come any second,
but it'll take me a minute or so."
	"Your skin's really thick where it's bunched up
behind the rim," he said as he continued running his
fingertips around my rim. "I'm gonna pull it back so I
can get to the back-face, where it's really
sensitive." I felt his strong fingers tighten on my
shaft behind the head and drag the fleshy sleeve down
to expose the groove behind my ridge.
	"Man, that's a deep groove you're got there. I bet
it's very sensitive there too," he continued as I felt
his fingers sliding around the rear of my rim and
dipping into the groove, stimulating the sensitive
tissue there was well. I began to moan softly.
	"Hah! Ahah! Ahah!" I gasped as his sensual caresses
sent hot sparks of sensation stabbing into my glans.
Each touch was like an electric pulse, bringing my
nerve endings to life and wanting more.
	"Now I'll hit the front part of your helmet," he said
as he moved the focus of his attention to the dome.
	"I'll just go around your slit a little," he
explained as his fingertips traced small circles
around my dilated orifice. "I like the shape of your
hole, like a teardrop," he continued. "It looks really
sexy, just waiting to be touched."
	"Ahah! Hah! Hah! Hah!" I was moaning helplessly as
the acute sensations dug into my helmet, inflaming it
and raising my tension.
	"Now down the sides of your corona," he said as I
felt his fingers tracing my rim up one side to the top
and then down the other. "I think your flaring rim
looks so sexy." I moaned louder, totally lost in the
intense sensations.
	"This is really getting to you," he commented. "I can
tell because you haven't stopped moaning and your
helmet's getting darker. It's harder, too. I can feel
that in my fingers." I was moaning even more loudly
now, caught up in the excitement, unable to relieve
the mounting tension in my body as it responded to his
caresses on my sensitive head.
	"Your helmet rim's really flaring now because it's so
swollen," he continued as his magic fingers traced the
outlines of my glans. "If you're like other uncut
guys, your helmet's gonna get very sensitive after you
start coming. I'll be able to tell because the pitch
of your moans is gonna get higher, and then I'll stop
stroking." My moaning was very loud now as my body
tensed uncontrollably.
	"You're close, right on the edge now. Want me to
stop?" I couldn't answer, as I barely heard him and
all my attention was focused on the intense tickling
in my glans.
	"HAH! HAH! AAAHHHH!" was all I could verbalize,
because I was withdrawing into myself, and becoming
overwhelmed by the mind-numbing sensations.
	"Your helmet's really dark around the rim, almost
black, and more purple toward the front. You're still
pinkish around the hole," he narrated as his fingers
danced on the surface of my tortured glans,
heightening the sensations from a tickle to the
familiar hot tingle that told me I was poised on the
brink. They swept around my corona, and then plunged
into the deep groove under my helmet where the two
halves met in a seam, forming a triangular cleft
between them. His fingertips strumming my hot spot set
me off, triggering the powerful muscles in my
cock-root, and I was swept away by the explosion of
sensations.
	"HAHHHH! HAHHHH! HAHHHH!" I cried loudly as the first
spasm churned deep inside me, and I felt the first hot
jet squirting into my tube to rush up my shaft to the
end. It seared the lips of my hole as it slammed
through them, and I writhed helplessly as the massive
sensations coursed through my body.
	I cried out again as the second spasm contracted my
ejaculatory muscles, sending another torrent of hot
lava through my shaft, and my body strained with the
frenzy of my orgasm. Tim's fingertips swept around my
helmet again before returning to press hard into the
hot spot under the head, and I cried out again as my
third gush poured from my straining helmet.
	Suddenly my glans seemed on fire, having become
super-sensitive, and my next cry was a helpless squeak
as the fourth gush erupted from my tip. I felt Tim's
fingers tighten around my shaft as the punishing
friction against my glans ceased, but another spasm
wracked my body. It felt as if my whole being was
extruding through my throbbing prick, and I was a
passive witness rocked by sensations.
	Tim's fist tugged my shaft-skin back harder to
trigger another hot pulse deep inside me, and I moaned
again as the jet left my body, leaving me utterly
drained. Now the spasms softened, and I felt the fluid
dribbling from my engorged tip, as the fury of my
orgasm faded from my consciousness.
	A few residual spasms in my cock-root ensued, and
then I was still and silent, utterly drained and
spent. I was in a daze, benumbed by the biological
storm that had swept through me, sated and content,
happy to lie passively as the glow spread over my
body. I don't know how long I lay still, but when I
opened my eyes I saw Tim smiling down at me.
	"You really shot a lot," he said. "I mean you shot,
not dribbled. You were really hot."
	"You did that to me," I said. "You were really
stimulating. The sensations were so intense when you
touched my tip..." I trailed off.
	"I could see how hot you were. I felt it, too. "Your
helmet was so swollen and dark, and the ridge really
stood out. I felt your cock throb hard when you
started shooting."
	"I know you enjoyed it, like I enjoyed making you
cream," I said.
	"I really did," he said. "I was really happy I was
making you come so hard, and shoot so much. The cream
shot several inches from your helmet, and you said you
usually dribble."
	"Yeah, that was because of you. You did it." As I
spoke he leaned forward to plant a dry kiss on my
lips, and another on my chin.
	"Thanks so much," I whispered. The moment was so
tender that I reached up and pulled him down to hug
him. We lay that way for a long while, and I noticed
that the music of Wagner had stopped.
	"Want another glass of wine?" Tim asked as he propped
himself on one elbow. I feel like having one, or maybe
more than one," He laughed.
	"I'll go for that," I said as he rose and I followed
him into the kitchen, where we sat naked in the same
chairs as before. He poured the rich, full-bodied
liquid into our glasses, and we raised them in a
silent toast. Our eyes met, and I felt a tingle and a
stirring in my prick as his eyes bored into mine.
	"That was really hot," he said. "I knew that I'd
enjoy going one on one with you. Mutual is a lot of
fun, but with you it was something extra-special."
	"Same here," I confirmed. "You're really into pricks,
and it showed."
	"That's partly because yours is so attractive. The
helmet's a lot like mine, and I like a cock with a big
helmet. That always turns me on."
	"It does the same to me, Tim. I'd told you in one of
my e-mails that I feel that the glans is the most
attractive part of the penis, and you'd said you felt
the same way."
	"It was great, watching your big helmet get darker,
and feeling it throb, when you unloaded."
	"Unloaded, Tim? Man, I absolutely drained myself. You
just pulled all the cream out of me."
	"Oh, I know you shot a lot. That got me so hot,
watching you come." I'd noticed Tim's prick swelling
as he was speaking, and mine was also responding to
the verbal stimulation.
	"Tim, I'm still so excited from our action that I
think I'll have to relieve myself." I held the glass
in my left hand and let my right drop to my prick,
which was already half-hard. I began stroking my
foreskin up and down, compelled by the pressures
inside me. Tim began squeezing his glans, and I saw
his prick filling out.
	"Oh, Jack, I feel like getting off again too. I
wouldn't be able to resist anyway, sitting here
watching you get your nice cock all hard and ready to
shoot." Now Tim was sliding his shaft-skin to bump his
corona.
	"I'd like to watch you do yourself this time," I
said. "I'm gettin' hot now, and seeing you blow your
load would send me over the edge."
	"I wanna watch your technique, too, Jack. Watching a
hot guy get himself off really excites me." As he
spoke I eased forward in my chair, so that my butt was
on the edge of the seat, and I noticed that he was
doing the same.
	"Are you gonna get some lube for yourself?" I asked.
Tim went to the bedroom, returning with his fingers
slick with Albolene, and I watched as he began
spreading a film of the silky lubricant all over his
swollen glans and shaft, massaging it in sensually.
	"I really need this," I said as I increased the pace
of my stroking. "Normally, I like to stretch it out,
but I feel a really urgent need to come right now."
	"I won't last long either, Jack. Between thinking of
what we did before and seeing you stroking that hot
skin, I'm very excited."
	"Do you think we can stroke ourselves until we get
close, and then finish each other off?" I asked.
	"We can try, Jack. I'd really love that. Working
myself up is all right, but your hand on my cock while
I'm coming would be pure heaven." Tim raised his glass
with his left hand and drained it. I finished mine as
well, and Tim leaned forward to refill our glasses as
he continued to pleasure his penis with his right
hand. There was a box of Kleenex on the table and Tim
reached out and slid it closer to us. Now we were on
the same side of the table, facing each other,
outstretched legs intertwined, as we continued to
excite ourselves.
	"This is what I like to do when I get close," I said.
:I skin all the way back, and bump the ring of
foreskin against my rim." I demonstrated as I spoke,
and Tim leaned forward, eager to see it up close.
	"I'm glad you skinned it back, Jack. I get off on
your helmet."
	"Now both our tips are exposed," I added. "We can see
them both, watch them swell and get darker."
	"I've got a real fetish for helmets, you know," Tim
said. "This is doin' a lot for me." His hand cycled
faster along the length of his shaft and glans, taking
long strokes from base to tip.
	"Ours are the same color," I observed. "They both
have the same purple color, but at the front they're
kinda pink around the hole."
	"Yeah, and darker purple around the rims," he
answered. "Go ahead, bump that big rim, Jack. I wanna
see it flare as it gets bigger."
	"Damn, I'm close," I said as I slowed my pace, trying
to extend the delicious feeling of anticipation as my
tip began to ache for release.
	"You're more sensitive than I am," he said. "You're
gonna come faster." I felt a drop of lubricant seep
into my urethra and begin the long crawl up toward the
end.
	"I don't know how long I can hold out," I whispered
as I slowed my stroking further. I'm pulling back hard
to stretch the nerve endings in the skin. That feels
so good."
	"Go nice and slow," he coached me. "Just stretch it
out, while I watch your helmet get bigger and darker.
When you can't hold out anymore and you start to
shoot, I'll wrap my fingers around your helmet and
give it a couple of twists to give you an extra
thrill." My eyes closed as he spoke, and I felt the
sensations building to the breaking point in my prick
and root.
	"HAAAAAHHHH!" I cried out as the rush of sensations
peaked and the heavy pounding of orgasm began in my
cock-root. I felt the sudden pressure as Tim's
lubricated fingers closed around my glans, twisting
hard as the first thick gush poured from my tip.
	"HAAAHHHH!" I cried out again as my glans exploded
with sensation against the friction of his fingers and
another torrent of hot lava rushed up my tube,
slamming through the lips in my cock-head to erupt
into the air. I felt his fingers twist over my tip,
applying more friction and triggering another hot
spasm deep inside me, sending another burning gush to
sear its way up my prick.
	I cried out again and felt his fingers release me as
another spasm gripped me. My prick throbbed and
another torrent of juice shot from my straining tip. I
was holding my skin back hard, helpless against the
mind-numbing sensations that shot through my body, and
I felt several more spasms before it was over.
	I sat with legs extended, utterly still, totally
dazed, as the tension left my body. I became aware of
the total silence, and realized that Tim wasn't
stroking himself at all before I opened my eyes to see
him sitting, looking at me, his hand wrapped around
his prick. A warm feeling of tenderness for him filled
me.
	"That was beautiful," he said when he realized I was
back to full consciousness. "That was so hot and sexy.
I would have come right then if I hadn't stopped
stroking."
	"I believe it, Tim. I can see your balls are tight
against your body, and your tip's very dark." I pulled
my foreskin forward and wrapped my prick with a
Kleenex to catch the drips.
	"Okay, I'm gonna start again, nice and slow."
	"Good, Tim. I'm gonna be right here for you, watching
you all the way." As I spoke, Tim began stroking his
shaft, bringing his lubricated fingers up to caress
the bloated glans at the top of each slow stroke. I
moved my chair closer to his.
	"I'm so turned on from watching you shoot that I'll
be ready to pop in a minute," he said.
	"Let me help you when you come," I offered. "I know
it feels much better with another guy's fingers on
your prick. You proved that to me just a couple of
minutes ago."
	"Oh, yeah, I want you to push me over the edge," he
replied.
	"How close are you?" I asked. "You look pretty hot.
Your balls are tight, your tip's dark and swollen, and
I see you leaked a drop of lube."
	"Not long, not long..." He answered. "Half a minute,
maybe." His fingers continued to run up and down his
shaft and swollen tip, bringing him closer to the
brink. When he got to the bottom of the stroke the
tension on his gee-string pulled down the front of his
glans.
	"Suppose you do like I did," I suggested. "Just
stroke up to your rim. That way, without the pressure
of your fingers, your head'll expand all the way, and
get more sensitive. Just work around your scar and the
skin ahead of it, but keep pulling down hard on the
back-stroke. That must make the head feel good because
it's stretching your nerve endings."
	"Oh, my helmet always gets pulled down when I pull
back hard on the skin," he said.
	"Yeah, I noticed that earlier. Keep on doing that and
I'll stroke your helmet when you're at the edge," I
said. Tim continued to work his prick, and I watched
the front of his shapely helmet dip each time he
pulled back on his shaft skin.
	"Gettin' there," he whispered as I watched the
tension build in his body. His legs were spread out
and his stomach muscles tightened in preparation for
the explosive release. Now his eyes closed and his jaw
clenched. His strokes became harder, yanking down the
shaft skin each time, as his beautiful tip reached its
final swelling and began dribbling lubricant.
	"Aaaahhhhh!" he moaned as the sensations reached a
crescendo. I placed my fingertips on the front dome of
his straining helmet, spreading the slippery tears
from its weeping eye, and felt the hard throb hammer
against my fingertips as he began convulsing in
climax.
	"HAAAHHH!" he cried out as the first jet shot from
his slit into my palm. I grasped the hand encircling
his shaft and pulled down hard to tug on his frenulum
as my fingertips danced over the rounded front of his
glans, and I felt the second hard throb as he released
another torrent of white cream.
	Tim's chest was heaving as the fury of his orgasm
wracked his body, and he moaned again as the third jet
spurted from his straining helmet. I twisted my
fingertips around the purple dome to make him shoot
again, and was rewarded by another hot discharge. I
smelled the chlorine odor of his fluid as it dripped
from my palm down onto the swollen head and shaft.
	He continued moaning as his spasms weakened and the
peak of the orgasm faded. I felt a few minor throbs in
his tip and then he became still, eyes still closed as
he sat dazed by the hot frenzy that had gripped him. I
removed my hands and watched his prick soften as his
breathing slowed. Then I wrapped a Kleenex around the
shrinking helmet and waited for him to recover.
	"Man, that was terrific," he said as his eyelids
fluttered open. "I really needed relief and you gave
it to me." I began milking his urethra, from back to
front, soaking the tissue.
	"You did the same for me," I said.
	"Oh, Jack, it was so nice doing it for each other,"
he said. We looked at each other for a minute,
appreciating the intimacy, and then he spoke again:
	"Feeling your fingertips rubbing the front of my
helmet while my gee-string was stretched tight was
absolutely the best. That just sent me flying." He
gazed into my eyes as he said this.
	"I was so glad to do it for you," I replied. "It was
a hot vicarious thrill for me to feel your big helmet
throbbing." Tim blew me a kiss and said:
	"We haven't eaten since you arrived. You hungry?"
	"No, not really," I replied. "I'm just so relaxed
right now I can't even think of food."
	"I feel the same way," he said. "Maybe we ought to
have more wine and then sleep." He reached for the
bottle and refilled our glasses.
	"We can eat in the morning," I proposed. "We'll go
out and I'll spring for breakfast."
	"That's a plan," he said. "Now where do you want to
sleep? I've got an extra bedroom, or you can sleep
with me."
	"Where do you think?" I asked with a grin. He rose
and led me by the hand to the big queen-size bed. We
lay down, and Tim pulled the sheet up to cover us. I
felt his fingers clasping my penis.
	"I'd like to hold on to your cock," he said. "You
mind?"
	"No, I love it. You won't mind if I hold yours?" I
slid my hand down his body to clasp his warm penis. He
turned toward me and we fell asleep in each other's
arms.

End of Part 1