Date: Tue, 10 May 2005 13:49:36 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jack Santoro <jackinnm@yahoo.com>
Subject: Cigarette Burns

Many years ago, when I still smoked, I met Les in a
naturist sauna. Les appeared to be about 25, while I
was about ten years older. We both wore glasses, but
because this was a dry sauna, they did not steam up.
We were the only two occupying the sauna, sitting
opposite each other, and I had a good view of his
equipment, as he had of mine. I noticed a red and
inflamed spot on the ridge of his circumcised glans. I
guess I stared a bit too long, because he said to me:
"That's a burn. I got it a couple of days ago when I
was sitting on the pot and dropped a cigarette between
my legs. The burning end caught my ridge and the
filter end leaned against the side of the bowl for a
second before I could move."
"I suppose it's still pretty sore," I offered,
sympathetically. He nodded and added:
"My prick won't be combat-ready for a few more days, I
think. Hope nothing like this ever happens to you." I
smiled at him.
"It did. Last year, almost exactly the same thing
happened when I dropped a cigarette butt between my
legs." I remembered the occasion vividly, feeling the
heat as the glowing tip slid down the skin of my prick
and into the water. I held up my cock to show Les. A
slight reddening still showed on my foreskin, right
over the ridge. The burn had not been as severe as the
one on his cock, because there had been no sharp rim
exposed to catch the end of the cigarette and the
contact had been momentary.
"Lucky you. You only got a burn on the outer skin.
Wish I had a hood like yours, but I got cut before I
had anything to say about it. Bet your tip's really
sensitive, isn't it?" He looked enviously at my
smoothly skinned cock with its funnel shaped hood that
protruded an inch beyond the end of the glans to form
a thick nipple.
"Yeah, it really is, just the way I like it." With
both hands, I steadied my prick and pulled the long
hood all the way back, forming a thick collar behind
the rim. Flaccid, the head of my cock was pinkish
purple, but the back face of the rim was a deep
purple, hinting at the many nerve endings that studded
it. By contrast, his tip was a uniform grayish pink,
typical of the dry unprotected cock-head with the skin
removed.
"Hey, I like the color of your tip." He said. He
reached out and ran a finger across my flaring rim,
making me quiver in delight as my prick jerked in
reflex. "Looks really delicate and sensitive. Maybe we
can get together in a few days after mine heals so
that I can get a closer look." I enjoyed the
admiration, and quickly agreed that we'd meet next
weekend.
The following Saturday, we met at the sauna and
relaxed in the dry heat, watching our balls sag and
our cocks enlarge from the high temperature. After
half an hour, we proceeded to the shower and rinsed
the sweat from our bodies. As Les lived closer than I
did, he suggested that we go to his place, a neat
looking condo with beautifully landscaped grounds.
Inside his place we went to the bedroom to strip to
the buff, and I noticed that his eyes never left my
crotch as we disrobed. I noted that he was about my
height, six feet, and his slender build was similar to
mine. His hair was lighter than mine, a sort of dirty
blond, both on his head and around his crotch.
"Man, I really love foreskins," he commented. "There
aren't that many around, but when I see one, I go for
it." He stepped up to me and grasped my long foreskin
nipple between two fingers, applying a rolling motion
that suggested he was very familiar with how to handle
foreskins. My cock-head, already large and bulging
under its hood, began to swell. I squeezed his naked
glans rhythmically, knowing that each squeeze would
send a thrill down his cock-shaft and make the root
reply with a pleasurable spasm.
Les sat on the edge of the bed, and I sat next to him,
neither of us breaking contact with each other's
cocks. I saw that his cock-rim was only slightly
reddened where he had burned himself the previous
week, and was swelling in response to my touch. My
cock was now hard, and Les had begun easing back to
long hood. With two fingers, he pulled back gently to
bare my come-hole, then pushed the skin forward again
to close over the end. His shaft was hard in my hand,
and I studied his cock-head as I jiggled the loose
skin up and down to bump his rim. I saw that he had a
large helmet shaped glans, very much like mine, and
that his orifice was distended to an oval, unlike
mine.
Les pulled my skin back farther, baring the wet,
slippery head, until the tight ring of my hood snapped
back into the deep groove behind my ridge. He ran a
finger over my glistening glans, circling the corona,
and exclaimed:
"Beautiful ridge. Your big tip feels nice and warm. I
like your come-hole, too." My fully erect cock-head
had darkened, and the hole at the end distended to a
definite teardrop shape. As he'd skinned my prick
back, I'd felt a tickle in my cock-root and now a drop
of lubricant filled my orifice. Les placed his
forefinger over the drop and began spreading the
viscous fluid around the hole, working in small
circles. The feeling was very erotic, and I sighed
happily.
"I just love foreskin," he continued, giving my prick
long strokes that drew the thick hood forward beyond
the end, then fully back to behind the flaring rim.
The tight ring of skin snapped into the deep groove
behind the head. Les struggled to bring it forward
again, but it was lodged securely behind my high,
flaring ridge. He squeezed my cock-head to drive out
the blood, then drew the long foreskin forward over my
shrunken cock-head.
"Wait until I lube a little," I said. "That'll make it
easier to slide the skin over the rim." Les skinned me
back part-way, and we saw the large drop of clear
fluid that oozed from my hole and flowed down under
the protective hood. Now he pulled my foreskin all the
way back, then it slid forward easily over the
lubricated ridge.
I reached for a bottle of non-drying lubricant he'd
placed on the bedside table and lubricated his hot,
swollen cock. Now I gave his love tool several long,
languid strokes from base to tip, wanting to keep him
aroused but not push him over the edge.
"When did you last come?" I asked.
"Two days ago," he replied.
"Good. That way, we're not going to need relief right
away and we can make it last. My last orgasm was three
days ago, and I can hold out an hour or more." I
massaged his prick slowly and lovingly as I spoke,
certain that the slow sensations were registering in
his nervous system and that when he eventually came,
his orgasm would be hot, intense, and prolonged. Now
he dropped his head, inhaling the aroma of my hot
foreskin.
"Your cock really smells nice," he said as he leaned
over and took a deep breath, savoring the heady
masculine odor. His fist swept my foreskin forward and
his tongue swiped at the thick pucker that had formed
in front of my glans. I twisted my fist around his
shaft, carefully avoiding the scar and the trigger
ridge to avoid bringing his climax too soon.
The oval in the front of his bell-shaped tip had
filled with clear fluid, and as I watched his cock
pulsed gently and another drop of lube pushed its way
out and began rolling down the groove on the bottom of
the head.
"Was your cock still sore when you came two days ago?"
I asked.
"A little, but I used a vibrator under the head." I
knew what he meant, as a vibrator used there would hit
the sensitive twin lobes and the tender strip of skin
underneath, bringing orgasm very quickly. I'd
sometimes done that, for variety. Now I ran one finger
on the underside of his cock-head, hitting the same
sensitive spots, probing between the twin lobes of the
glans. Les had pulled my hood forward, stretching it
out beyond the end of my helmet, his two fingers
holding the sensitive tissue and rolling it gently. It
was clear he knew what he was doing, because this
stimulation would keep me aroused, but wouldn't force
the orgasm from my body.
We continued working each other's pricks this way,
knowing that no matter how careful we were, we'd
eventually unload our juices in thick and sensual
gushes. I wondered if he was a shooter or dribbler. My
cock rarely spits its jets, but I had seen others
joyfully blast thick ropes of semen in long
trajectories when they came.
We'd been at it an hour when I felt Les's shaft harden
further in my fist, and his tip darkened a couple of
shades. My fingers touched his ridge, which had lost
its spongy feel and swollen in the final stage.
"Looks like you're close," I commented. "Ready?" He
said nothing, but lay on his side and placed a towel
in front of him to catch his discharge. I gave his
bell-shaped tip a hard twist to trigger his storm.
He'd let go of my cock and was focusing entirely on
his sensations as his cock throbbed in my fist.
Les shuddered as the whirlwind of orgasm swept through
his body, bringing relief and satisfaction. He moaned
loudly as the ropy white jets erupted from his naked
tip, falling onto the towel in front of him. The first
jets flew almost a foot, and the rest declined,
finally dribbling out of his distended orifice as his
throbs slowed. Creamy white pools of cream were
soaking into the thick terrycloth as I milked the last
drops from his dick.
"Now it's your turn," he said as he spread a towel on
my stomach and pushed me down flat. He took my hard
cock in his fist and began a back and forth motion
that pounded my swollen rim and its millions of nerve
endings. As my foreskin slipped over the ridge, a
heavy tingling began in my rim and spread over the
entire head before exploding in a hot thrill that went
down my shaft to the root. I had no time to think
before my cock was throbbing in orgasm, and I cried
out in pure joy as the agonizing sensations dimmed my
consciousness and made me helpless in his hands. I saw
a heavy gush of white cream pour from my swollen
purple tip before my eyes closed and I was lost in
mindless sensation.
"Man, you're really coming, and it's all over the
place," he said as he continued to stroke my cock. His
voice came from a distance as my body shuddered in
ecstasy and my cock throbbed in his encircling
fingers. It felt as if my entire being was pouring
from my hot cock, leaving me empty and drained as gush
after gush erupted from my distended orifice.
"I just love that foreskin action," he murmured as his
fist continued to stroke my hood over the core of my
cock. Each stream tickled my tube as it rushed up and
out, giving me a hot thrill that tantalized me. More
ribbons of cream poured from my tip, running down the
head to be caught up in the long strokes of my hood as
he continued to pound my prick. I felt my tip becoming
very slippery as the spasms began to fade, and Les
slowed his strokes and tightened his fist to pull
every drop from my cock. I felt his finger press into
the tube underneath, milking the last ooze from my
prick.
I lay prostrate, arms and legs stretched out, almost
lifeless as I began to recover from the heavy surge of
sensations that had wracked my body. Les had released
my prick, which now lay on my stomach in a thick pool
of jizm, slowly softening as my arousal died.
"That was beautiful," he said. "I really enjoyed
watching you come, and feeling your cock throbbing in
my hand." I nodded listlessly as he continued:
"Next time, I want to feel you come in my mouth. I
want to push my tongue under your foreskin and feel
your hot tip throb when you cum, taste your juice on
my tongue." I looked forward to that, because in those
days "safe sex" was an unknown phrase, and I truly
enjoyed a blow job from someone who appreciated intact
cocks.
            The End