Date: Wed, 5 Jan 2005 07:54:49 -0800 (PST)
From: Jack Santoro <jackinnm@yahoo.com>
Subject: You're A Nice Man

          During a weekend trip to see a good friend
in another city, I went to a bath house for the first
time. Stan had decided it would be a new experience
for me, and as I am adventurous enough to try anything
within reason once, I went along with his proposal.
That Saturday evening, after dinner, we went to the
bath house and checked in, leaving our clothes in a
locker and wearing only the skimpy towels the staff
had issued us. In this regard, we were just like all
of the other 100 or so guys on the premises.
          Stan enjoys the steam sauna, while I find it
fogs my glasses and makes it hard to breathe. While he
went into the sauna, I went into the hot tub, where
we'd agreed to meet later. Putting my towel up on a
hook, I stepped down into the large tub, aware that
all three of its occupants were eyeballing my
thick-foreskinned cock.
       I took a seat and after a couple of minutes,
two of the guys got up and left, leaving me alone with
the third, who began sidling around the periphery
towards me. He struck up a conversation as he slid
sideways through the hot, swirling water, and when he
was within arm's length he reached out to stroke my
thigh. My cock began to stir. The contact was
pleasant, but I remembered that Stan would be along
any minute. Stan isn't jealous, and in fact we don't
even have a solid physical relationship, but I also
did not want casual sex with a stranger, as I didn't
know where it might lead.
"You're a nice man," the stranger said to me, as his
hand traveled down to caress my butt. I replied;
"Thanks for the flattery but I'm here with a friend."
His face registered disappointment, and he stopped
caressing my flank. After another minute, he got out
of the tub. This gave me a view of what the swirling,
bubbling water had concealed from me up to now, a
nice, heavy-foreskinned cock remarkably like my own.
Stan emerged from the sauna and joined me in the tub.
When I told him what had happened, he laughed. After a
few more minutes we got out, donned our street
clothes, and went back to his house. There, Stan put a
European video on the screen and we stripped down to
enjoy it.
Stan had been cut at birth, and enjoys watching and
handling foreskin. His eyes rested on mine for a
moment, and I followed his gaze to see how my bulging
cock-head outline was clearly visible through the
protective cover. His fingers closed around my cock,
which began to swell. I put some baby oil on my hand
and clasped Stan's prick, which despite the amputation
was longer than mine. Stan had seven inches, and mine
measures only six, although it's thicker and the head
is much larger. I began stroking his quickly
stiffening cock up and down, making sure my finger hit
the sensitive bump on the underside of his cock just
behind the head. Stan had told me this was the most
sensitive spot on his penis, and I wanted to make his
prick feel as good as he was making mine. We'd jacked
each other while watching videos during previous
visits, and we settled down to enjoy the show and the
long, slow, build-up to release. Tacitly, we'd decided
against trying for simultaneous orgasms, because
overall, we enjoyed sequential climaxes more. True, we
gave up sharing the magic moment, but we gained a lot
in other ways, and we were about to experience these
again.
Stan's glans swelled, and a drop of clear fluid filled
the oval-shaped slot in the front of his tip. Stan had
pulled my foreskin back all the way to lodge behind my
high, flaring rim, and as we approached the end my tip
swelled and became a darker shade of purple. A drop of
prick-honey dribbled out of my tear-drop shaped
orifice, running down the glans onto his clasping,
encircling fingers.
After an hour, we were ready for release, having
watched many of the performers on the screen shooting
their loads with wild abandon. We decided Stan would
go first, and I began rotating my fist on his reddened
glans with each stroke. His prick felt hot and hard in
my hand, and I saw him close his eyes as the moment
neared. More lubricant dribbled from his tip, mixing
with the baby oil, as my fist pleasured his prick.
I increased my pace, watching Stan throw his head back
as his hand fell from my prick. The advantage of
making each other come separately is that each can
throw himself totally into what he's doing, as I was
concentrating on giving Stan pleasure without the
distraction of my own orgasm. Stan, in turn, was free
to concentrate on his own sensations, which were
rapidly bringing him to the edge.
I slowed my strokes slightly, wanting to make the last
few seconds of build-up last, because I knew from my
own experience how delicious the last few seconds of
anticipation could be. His tip reddened even more as
it went into its final swelling, and then I felt the
first pulse through my encircling fingers. His cock
throbbed in my hand as the first jet shot from the
tip, falling back onto my fingers. His prick felt so
hot in my hand that his juice felt cool by comparison.
Stan's eyes were screwed tightly shut, his lips drawn
back in orgastic rictus, as the waves of sensation
wracked his body.
His prick throbbed again, and he groaned in pure
pleasure as another white jet shot from his tip. His
knees drew up as his legs spasmed, and I knew that
waves of overwhelming sensation had erased his
awareness of the world outside his body.
I wrapped my free arm around him, pulling him to me,
feeling his body straining against mine as waves of
orgasm went through him. I was enjoying his climax,
both because I liked making his hot swollen prick feel
good, but because I could experience it vicariously. I
knew what he was feeling, and also knew that he'd be
sending me into rapture within minutes. Hugging him, I
felt every spasm, and my prick pressed against his
flank as I stroked his.
Stan's spasms were weakening as his orgasm faded, and
I knew his prick got super-sensitive at the end.
Nevertheless, I gave him a few more powerful strokes,
even though he groaned loudly, because I wanted to
milk every last drop from his engorged prick. He
writhed in joyful agony, and then I stopped. letting
him come down off the wave of feeling. He looked at me
and said: "You didn't stop, you bastard," with a grin.
"No..." I replied.
Stan took a paper towel and dabbed the cum juice from
his prick and stomach, and I wiped my hands free from
the sticky fluid. Now it was my turn. Stan grasped my
prick, which had softened only slightly from the brief
neglect. He pulled the foreskin back completely to
lodge behind the flaring rim, allowing my glans to
swell to full size. He stroked my foreskin back and
forth, slowly, and I relaxed, enjoying the build-up,
knowing that within a minute or two I'd be in the same
state of mindless, blissful free- fall Stan had just
enjoyed. I watched my glans swell and turn even darker
purple, with the rim's back face almost black as it
engorged with excitement. A steady ooze of fluid from
my tear-drop flowed down to lubricate my cock-head and
Stan's encircling fingers, which brushed slowly over
the swollen rim.
I was getting close, and my legs began to twitch as my
breathing became more labored. My awareness of the
world faded as the hot sensations in my cock
overwhelmed my consciousness. There was a tickling
sensation in my tip where Stan's fingers caressed it,
and I felt a sensation of swelling. The Stan put both
palms on either side of my prick and began working
them rapidly back and forth, twisting my foreskin
around the base of the glans. The sudden, hot
sensations were turning the tickle in my tip to a hot
tingle that traveled down my shaft to the root.
My prick exploded, and I threw my head back, eyes
screwed shut, as I groaned in mindless ecstasy. A jet
of hot lava poured into the root of my prick, surging
forward to erupt from the tip. My hips bucked, and I
felt my cock throb again as Stan's hands rapidly
worked to twist the foreskin and the head in one
direction, then another. Another hot jet burned its
way to the tip and erupted into the air, as I writhed
in pure pleasure. I felt Stan pressing his body
against mine as his fingers wrapped around my hot,
swollen knob, and twisted to enhance my sensations.
His fingers explored every contour, running into the
groove behind the rim, probing under my foreskin,
sending hot erotic messages into the tender flesh. My
tip was getting super-sensitive, and I was now crying
out as waves of sensation poured over me.
Finally, my rapture faded into the mist, and I came
back to Earth. Stan was smiling at me as he wiped the
fluids from my prick and abdomen. It took several
minutes to recover from the sledgehammer daze that
follows orgasm. I hugged him, and we went into the
kitchen to mix martinis. Sitting on the bed, sipping
our drinks, and having a smoke, we silently reflected
on our good luck in having been able to share such
beautiful sensations that evening. The last thing I
remember before slipping into a deep sleep was his
saying; "You're a nice man."

The End