Date: Thu, 1 Feb 2007 14:02:42 -0800 (PST)
From: Jack Santoro <jacksantoro1@yahoo.com>
Subject: Beginning with Paul, Part 9, Beginnings, 9/9

                          Beginning with Paul, Part 9

                           By Jacksantoro1@yahoo.com


       Weeks later, Jimmy's trial began. Jimmy had not had to sit the
intervening weeks out behind bars, as he'd been able to make bail.
       Jury selection was quick, as Jimmy's lawyer didn't seem to
object to most of the people in the jury panel. Both sides made their
opening statements, but Jimmy's lawyer was very brief. He simply stated
that his client was innocent. The prosecutor began calling his witnesses,
and took two weeks to build his case with a mountain of evidence. The
prosecution rested at noon on the day when Paul was due to come over to
my place. I'd taken a couple of hours off and had attended court that
afternoon to hear what the defense had to present, and when Paul arrived
I filled him in as we were eating:
       "The guy just got up and made a motion to dismiss the case," I
said between bites of pizza.
       "Nothing else?" Paul asked.
       "No, nothing, zilch, zip," I replied. "He didn't offer any
defense at all, not a single witness or document."
       "What the fuck!" Paul exclaimed. "That's weird, very weird."
       "I have a hunch that the fix is in," I stated. "You just don't
neglect a defense unless you've got something up your sleeve." We
continued munching avidly, as we were so hungry that we hadn't bothered
to disrobe. There was nothing else to say at the moment anyway, and we
finished our meal in silence, washing the pizza down with bottled beer.
       We were relaxed when we went into the bedroom, so much so that we
didn't even feel like sex. We decided to go to sleep right away and
awaken early, as we'd enjoy sex more when we were completely refreshed.
We cuddled up and soon conked out, enjoying a dreamless sleep.
       We awoke at almost the same moment, and I was aware of Paul's
erection pressing against my buttocks. His arm was over my body clasping
my hard prick, and I turned to kiss him on the lips.
       "I'll get up and make coffee," I said. "I guess we had enough
sleep. We got to bed at eight, and it's about four now."
       "Yeah, eight hours is enough," he agreed. I got up and went into
the kitchen. Paul soon joined me, and we sat naked drinking coffee. Our
erections had subsided with our moving around, although our bladders were
still full. I shot a glance at Paul's blunt helmet resting on the chair
between his thighs, and then reached out to caress the flaring corona
lightly with a fingertip. Paul sighed and his prick began to swell. He
reached between my thighs and picked up my prick by the foreskin nipple,
pulling it to one side and then the other.
       "I really like swinging your cock this way," he said gleefully.
"The skin stretches because of the big head inside it." His skilled
fingers were making my prick swell as he spoke, and reached down to
squeeze his big purple helmet, forcing the blood out of it in rhythmic
pinches. I knew that each squeeze made his crotch muscles tighten
reflexively, and I saw his prick expanding under the stimulation.
       I sighed deeply as Paul began skinning my hood back over the now
swollen head. My prick was rock hard and he was able to slide the tight
hood much more easily than if it had been soft and yielding. As the wet
blunt dome of my helmet appeared, the rich masculine odor of foreskin
filled the air.
       "I love that man smell," he commented. "It's so natural." He
slid my foreskin back farther to uncover about half the head and then
pulled it up again.
       "I just love when you do that," I said. "Skinning it back over
the swollen head really stretches the nerve endings." He pushed my long
foreskin back down again, this time until it lay poised on the ridge, and
then drew it up again. I kept squeezing his glans as his prick rapidly
hardened, and cupped his balls with my other hand. Paul pushed my
foreskin all the way down this time, exposing the flaring corona, which
was covered with a thin coating of smegma.
       "I like that head cheese," he admitted. "I wish I had some."
       "I didn't take a shower yet," I told him. "I always skin back
and rinse off in the shower." I was slightly embarrassed that he'd seen
my prick even slightly dirty.
       "Oh, no, that's no problem," he blurted out. "I love that
natural secretion. I wish my cock had a hood so that I'd have some of
that too."
       "You'd just have to clean it," I said.
       "That's the point, Jack. I'd really enjoy cleaning my cock. I
love handling my cock. When I pee, or when I'm in the shower, I love
touching it. I just wish mine was as sensitive as yours." We were both
rock hard, and we got up and moved into the bedroom again.
       "I want to suck your cock, Jack," he breathed heavily. "Now
that it's got that extra cheesy flavoring, I'd like to smell and taste
it. Are you shocked?" I was, but didn't want to admit it. We assumed a
"69" position on the bed and now our pricks were pointed at each
others' faces. I studied the big blunt glans in front of me, and then
licked at the meaty orifice, probing between the long lips to tickle the
inside.
       I felt Paul's lips lock behind my corona as his tongue began
caressing my helmet. The hot exhalations from his nostrils tickled the
underside of my shaft as his tongue probed my orifice and then moved down
the head to the flaring ridge. He swiped across the broad upper surface
of my glans and then caressed the corona starting at the top and working
down one side. My nerve endings tingled as his hot tongue worked over
them.
       Now I moved forward on Paul's prick, taking the entire helmet
into my mouth and locking my lips around his thick brown circumcision
scar. Working my tongue over the sexy contours of his glans, I strove to
give him the same sensations he was giving me. I was rewarded by the
sight of his scrotum tightening against his body, and I heard his
breathing become more rapid. All this added to my excitement, as did the
pressure in my bladder. We were full of coffee, the caffeine coursing in
our bloodstreams and the liquid filling our bladders. I knew that this
made it harder to remain relaxed, and that we'd be shooting our loads
more quickly than usual.
       Paul's fingers tugged on the skin of my contracted scrotum,
pulling it down and stretching its nerve endings. I did the same to him
and knew that he'd be feeling exactly the same sensations as I did.
After all, his circumcision had removed sensitive tissue from his penis,
not his scrotum, and in that way he was exactly the same as I.
       My breathing became shallower and more rapid, and I felt myself
tensing involuntarily. His magic tongue explored the deep groove behind
my glans, removing all of the smegma that had formed during the night,
and now I felt the caress of his tongue on my raw flesh, making the nerve
endings sing.
       I shuddered when I felt the scrape of his teeth on my helmet. Some
guys don't like their partner's teeth scraping their sensitive male
flesh, but to me it was delightful and very stimulating because Paul did
it very gently. The sensation was so intense it was almost unbearable,
and I removed my mouth from his prick to groan loudly.
       The scrapes of his teeth were giving me an intense tickle in my
hard, swollen helmet, and he worked his tongue in conjunction to add to
my sensations. The combination of his scrapes along my glans, his tongue
probing my urethra, and his pulling the skin of my scrotum proved
impossible to resist, and now I felt the full effect, a hot tingling in
my helmet that made me grunt hard in anticipation of the bliss that was
to follow.
       I was taking deep breaths now, and expelling them in loud grunts
of joy as I felt the sensations slipping out of control. The sensation of
intense tingling in my glans seemed to explode as his teeth sent hot
sparks of sensation stabbing deeply into my helmet. My eyelids snapped
shut. A bolt of electricity shot down my shaft and my cock-root
contracted sharply in its first spasm, sending a torrent of hot lava
shooting up my urethra as I bellowed in release. I shuddered in a full
body orgasm as the waves of sensation washed over me, and my helmet
throbbed as it shot my first load into Paul's throat. My hips bucked,
driving my straining prick deeper into his mouth as it disgorged the hot
liquid.
       Paul twisted his head on my prick, and I felt the sideways swipe
of his tight lips around my corona and the groove behind it. I shuddered
again as my prick throbbed in its second spasm, shooting another load
into his waiting mouth. My helmet was both tingling and throbbing,
flooding me with sensations of mindless ecstasy as the second hot stream
slammed through the lips of my orifice.
       I yelped in joyful agony as the third wave of sensations ripped
through my body, and my prick throbbed as it disgorged another load. I
was floating, lost in the free-fall of orgasm, my conscious mind on
"HOLD," as my body responded automatically to the stimulation. The next
contractions were weaker, although still intense, and my orgasm faded as
my prick dribbled its last drops into Paul's sucking mouth. I felt his
finger pressing against my urethra behind my scrotum, pushing the fluid
forward, and then against the underside of my prick forward of my balls
to force out the last residue. I was barely conscious when I relaxed and
sunk into the daze that follows release.
       A couple of minutes later I had recovered, a silly smile on my
face as I opened my eyes.
       "That was lovely," I murmured as Paul leaned over me to kiss me
delicately on the lips.
       "I know it was hot for you. Those high-pressure streams you shot
into my mouth told me that." I saw that Paul's erection was still
rock-hard, my saliva drying on its surface. I pushed him onto his back
and told him to lie still, that I'd take care of his orgasm now. I took
my vibrator from the drawer and plugged it in. I prefer the ones that use
110 volts to those powered by batteries, because they're more powerful
and deliver more intense stimulation. I had the flat plastic plate
adapter on the vibrator, and I pressed it against the underside of his
shaft as I took his swollen purple glans into my mouth. I wanted him to
have an orgasm at least as intense as the one he'd given me, and the
vibrator would give me an edge. My lips locked behind his flaring ridge
as I turned the vibrator to "HIGH," and I felt the vibrations filling
his glans. He began to moan softly as I applied gentle suction and probed
his long slit with my tongue-tip. I tasted the slippery saltiness of his
natural lube as it flowed freely from his glans. Now I began an
up-and-down movement, working my lips over his rim to hit its many nerve
endings. All the time the vibrator did its work, sending shocks of
sensation deep inside him to hit the deep-seated nerve endings.
       "Ohhhh, Jack, that feels so good," he moaned as I felt his hot
hard glans engorge even further in my mouth as it went into its final
swelling. His prick throbbed as a surge of salty lubricant flowed from
between the lips of his slit onto my tongue. I worked my tongue-tip into
the magic triangle under the head, hitting his hot spot, and his prick
throbbed again. He'd been hard longer than I had, and I was sure he was
primed to come.
       Now I scraped my teeth lightly down the broad upper surface of his
glans, giving him the sharp stimulation that would drive him over the
brink. I heard him cry out at the sudden sensual shock, and a moment
later I felt his prick jerk hard. I was ready for the hot torrent of
cream that surged from his long slit, filling my mouth with a salty taste
and chlorine odor, and I swallowed hard. His hips bucked, driving his
prick upward into my throat as it throbbed again with his second release
that flooded my mouth. He was having a whole body orgasm as I'd had, and
I knew that the sensations in his prick were intense.
       It was a beautiful moment, feeling him ejaculate with heavy
throbs, knowing that he was experiencing the same intense sensations
he'd given me only minutes ago. I twisted my head on his glans,
providing the delicious sideways friction that added to his orgasm, and
felt him throb again, releasing another load of sperm into my waiting
mouth.
       Paul's prick continued to throb and shoot as he unloaded his
streams of salty juice. His grunts filled the room as his body responded
to my mouth and the vibrator's intense buzzing. Now I removed my mouth
and brought the vibrator up to the underside of his straining glans,
right on his hot spot, and watched as another long jet erupted from his
meatus. I licked the sperm from his helmet as it drooled down because the
last ejaculations weren't as strong, and the thick cream just dribbled
from his slit.
       After several minutes he'd revived from his daze and I helped him
into the shower. The hot water flowed over our bodies, washing away the
sweat and body oils. I skinned back my hood to allow the water to flow
over my naked glans as it was flowing over his, and within seconds we
were both peeing, flushing the residual sperm from our urethras. We
hugged sensually, glad to be alive and glad to be with each other.
       After dressing we returned to the kitchen where I prepared
breakfast for us, and then we rushed off to work. He promised to come for
dinner that evening, and I began thinking about what to obtain for our
meal. During my workday I watched the news services, and just before I
was leaving that afternoon our court reporter returned and filled me in
on what had happened in Jimmy's trial. Over sushi that evening, I
briefed Paul:
       "They had a hung jury. It didn't take long. They hardly
deliberated at all. One juror was the hold-out from the start. The others
said he was guilty because the evidence was overwhelming, but this guy
wouldn't go along, or even discuss it."
       "I guess the fix was in," Paul mused. "You know, Jack, you were
absolutely right. That lawyer reached a juror, which is why he didn't
even bother to put up a defense."
       "The prosecutor said that he was going for another trial," I
told him. "A hung jury isn't an acquittal." We finished eating and
went to bed, sitting side by side and watching TV. When the ten o'clock
news came on, the lead story was a traffic accident.
       We watched, stunned, as the talking head announced that our friend
Jimmy had been driving home when a cement truck overturned and crushed
his car. The police had come, and had said that there was no evidence of
foul play. A tire on the truck and blown during a turn, and the
unbalanced truck had just capsized onto Jimmy's car. There was no way
that this accident could have been contrived. I turned off the TV and we
sat contemplatively for a few minutes.
       "Isn't that the shits," Paul concluded. "He gets off and that
very afternoon he gets killed."
       "Maybe it's poetic justice," I said.
       "I'm not sure he deserved to die, but maybe a higher power made
that decision," Jimmy replied.
       "Well, maybe, but if that was it his lawyer should have been in
the car with him," I said.
       "Well," I don't think I'll miss him. He wasn't much of a
friend." I hugged Paul to me and said:
       "No, he was just an opportunist, a greedy little scumbag no good
to anybody. At least we have each other." We kissed long and hard before
going to sleep.

The End