Date: Thu, 17 Mar 2005 07:29:27 -0800 (PST)
From: Jack Santoro <jackinnm@yahoo.com>
Subject: Doppelganger, Adult Friends, 1/1

Doppleganger
By jackinnm@yahoo.com

NOTE: The first two episodes in this story, describing
how I became aware that I had a double, are true.
Sadly, I never made contact with my first double, and
just had lunch with the second. The rest is of the
story is fiction, the way I'd hoped it might have
been.
Some years ago the checkout lady at a supermarket
looked at me with surprise in her eyes.
"Why you were just here," she said.
"Huh?" I reacted, totally baffled.
"You just came through my line five minutes ago."
"No, it wasn't me," I replied.
"But you were dressed differently," she continued.
"No, it wasn't me," I repeated.
"Then it was someone who looks just like you. I guess
it wasn't you, because he had on different clothes,"
she explained. That was the first clue I had that I
had a double somewhere. I'd heard of "doppelgangers,"
look-alikes, but had never thought I might have one. 
Recently at a party, a man named Jake came up to me.
"When Alice and I came in, we thought we knew you. You
look just like our friend Carl." He went on to explain
that they'd known Carl for years, and that I was his
exact double. I told him that I was sure I didn't have
a twin, because I'd been an only child, and that I'd
seen my birth certificate, so I knew I hadn't been
adopted. I knew that some twins who were orphaned
became adopted by different sets of parents, neither
twin aware he'd had a sibling. 
After several minutes of discussion, during which I
found out that Carl came from the mid-west and worked
in insurance, I wrote my name and number on my pad,
tore off the sheet, and gave it to Jake, asking that
he pass it on to Carl. I was eager to hear from Carl,
who looked enough like me to be my twin.
A few weeks later I answered the phone and a voice
said: "This is Carl, a friend of Jake's. He told me
you look like you might be my twin."
"Yeah, thanks for calling, really. I'd love to meet
you and see how much alike we really are." Carl
invited me to his house, and a couple of days later I
rang his bell. When he opened the door it was almost
like looking at a mirror image of myself. Except for
the clothing, he looked exactly the way I do, from
thinning white hair to wire-rimmed trifocals, the
square jaw, and the same physique. We had the same
deep-set brown eyes and the same low-tenor voice. He
ushered me in, offered me a Pepsi, and we sat down to
talk.
Carl, too, had been an only child. He had been born in
Nebraska, while I hailed from New York. I told him I'd
been born in 1938, and he said he'd been born in 1937.
My parents had been French and Italian, while his had
been German. When I mentioned that I'd seen my birth
certificate, he said he had a copy of his as well, and
believed that he had been his parent's biological
child. This seemed to establish that we were not
related, and certainly not twins separated at birth.
Our lives had been different, as well. Although
neither of us had been in the armed services, Carl had
been a Boy Scout. He'd gone into insurance, while my
field was computer engineering. We'd both been married
and divorced, and while Carl had had two children, I'd
had none. Carl was retired, but I was not.
We stared at each other, fascinated, as we exchanged
data. We were both 6'2", and weighed about 210 lb. We
compared hands, and found that we both had large hands
with long fingers. We both wore size 12 shoes. When we
stood, we saw that his eyes were slightly higher than
mine, because he wore cowboy boots and I had on
running shoes. 
"Let's weigh ourselves, to see how close we are," he
suggested, leading me into the bathroom where the
scale was. Our weights differed as well, probably
because I was wearing heavier clothing and had a cell
phone and camera on me.
"Maybe we'd better strip down, take off everything, to
see how close a match we are," I said. He looked at me
curiously for a moment, then replied:
"Well, why not? No point in being shy with each other.
We probably look exactly alike under our clothes." We
began stripping down, and soon were standing naked,
facing each other. I felt no discomfort at being naked
in front of a guy I'd just met, and it appeared he
felt the same as I. 
This time, our eyes were exactly at the same level,
and when we stepped onto the scale, our weights were
within two pounds. We had exactly the same physique,
with the same roll of middle-aged fat around our
waists. There was a trace of an appendectomy scar on
my abdomen, while he had none. Dropping my eyes
farther, I noted that Carl's penis looked exactly like
mine, with a long foreskin forming a nipple ahead of
the bulbous glans. Under our cocks, we had the same
tight scrotums. 
"You had your appendix out," Carl remarked, "but
neither of us got circumcised." 
"Good thing for that," I replied. "I like being
natural. Lots of guys didn't have a choice."
"Well, they weren't cutting everybody back when we
were born," he said. "I'm glad I still have my skin.
Old Doc Simpson didn't believe in circumcision."
"Mine's long and tight, like yours, but slides
easily," I said. "I skin back when I have to pee."
"Speaking of pee," I have to go right now, Carl said.
"Mind if I do it in front of you? No reason to be
modest, I think."
"I have to go too," I said. Carl moved over to stand
in front of the sink and motioned me to join him. I
stood next to him, very aware that my left thigh was
pressed against his right one. 
"I pee in the sink because it saves water that way. No
point flushing the toilet for maybe a pint of pee." He
grasped his penis and drew the foreskin back half-way,
enough to expose the front of his glossy purple glans.
I did the same, baring the rounded front dome of my
cock-head, which looked exactly like his.
We let our streams flow, and Carl turned on the tap,
flushing the yellow liquid down the drain. I noticed
that the lips of our slits parted with our streams in
exactly the same way. When we'd drained ourselves, we
milked down our pricks and replaced our hoods fully
over the heads. Carl spoke again:
"Maybe we do the same things, too. In the shower, if I
have to pee, I often hold the end shut and make the
foreskin balloon out." He demonstrated, pinching the
foreskin nipple between two fingers. His other hand
grasped the end of mine, exerting light pressure. 
"Like this," he said. There was a moment of heavy
silence while he waited for my reaction. I grasped his
penis right behind his two fingers and gave his bulb a
quick squeeze.
"I do the same thing," I said, looking into his eyes.
"I also enjoy squeezing the head." I gave his
cock-head another squeeze and saw his eyes flicker
slightly as the bulbo-cavernal reflex kicked in,
making his cock-root throb.
"I can see why," Carl said. "That feels really good."
As he spoke, he began tugging on my hood, stretching
it out and stimulating the buried nerve endings. My
prick began to swell.
"I wonder if our erections are the same size," I
mused, continuing to squeeze Carl's cock-head
rhythmically. His prick began to engorge, like mine.
"Mine's six inches exactly," he said. "I never
measured the circumference, but I know it's a bit
thicker than average." We'd shifted positions while
speaking, and now we were face to face, our pricks
seeming to reach for each other across the gap.
"Mine too, thick like yours," I said. "Looks like both
of us have big heads."
"Seems like it," he replied. "Let's skin them back to
compare." By now, our cocks were at full attention,
standing proudly between us, and I began pushing back
slowly on his foreskin. The head gradually appeared,
first the big round front dome, then the broad body,
and finally I had his hood stretched tightly over his
rim. Carl reciprocated, and now our tips were mostly
exposed, glossy, purple, and wet. He touched my wet
tip with a finger, making the head throb, then brought
it to his nose.
"I love that smell," he said. "I think we even smell
alike." Carl's fingers pushed my hood fully back off
the ridge, and it snapped down into the deep groove
behind it, forming a thick fleshy collar.
"I think your tip looks exactly like mine," I said as
I pushed his foreskin back into the groove, noting the
high flaring ridge that I'd just bared exactly matched
mine. "Yours is pretty clean," I added.
"So is yours," Carl replied. "I don't have much
secretion under my foreskin. You don't seem to
either."
"No, but I like having it well lubricated. Feels more
comfortable that way. That's why I use a couple of
drops of Astroglide after I take a shower and dry
off." The eyes of our cocks stared at each other.
"Look, our pee-holes are the same," he said in wonder
and satisfaction. I saw what he meant, as the lips of
our slits had pouted as our tips had swelled, and now
both formed teardrop shaped orifices. 
"We both have straight shafts, both have that big vein
on the right, and it looks like we both have exactly
six inches." As I spoke, I worked his hood forward
over the ridge, feeling its folds caress the sensitive
tissue there. Carl bent slightly to inspect my cock
more closely.
"Funny, your ridge's back face has the same little
bumps mine does. I think those are nerve endings,
because they're very sensitive. Here, pull my skin
back again and see." I pushed his foreskin into the
fully retracted position, and saw that indeed he had
the same nerve-studded kind of corona as on my glans.
I rubbed my fingertip around his ridge, tracing its
outline as I spoke:
"Just my opinion, but I think a flaring ridge looks
very sexy." I smelled my finger, inhaling his
delicious man-smell.
"Yeah, that's a gift of nature," he replied. "It looks
nice, and feels nice, especially what you're doing."
His fingers began slowly sliding my foreskin back and
forth in sensual excursions along my turgid glans. My
fingertip ran down to the underside of Carl's purple
glans, pressing into the hot spot. His body shuddered,
and he sighed deeply.
"I haven't often messed around with guys, but this is
really enjoyable, doing it with my twin. Not only do
we look alike, but our cocks seem to be twins too.
They call that `doppelganger' in German."
"Sounds like `double,' " I replied.
"Yep, that's what it means." Carl moved forward
slightly, pressing the big purple head of his cock
against mine. The round front domes slid against each
other, the smooth friction exciting us both. 
"I wonder if there's room for my big twin under my
foreskin," I said. 
"Might be. When I was 20, I did this with my cousin,
who was about my age, but cut. He'd been born in
Chicago, and a lot of big-city kids got cut, even back
then. He'd told me how he'd always resented having the
skin snipped off his cock without his consent, and he
wondered what it would feel like to have skin."
"You satisfied his curiosity, then?"
"Oh, yeah! He was my favorite cousin, and there was
nothing I wouldn't do for him. I pulled my hood over
his head, and he was surprised it stretched that far.
His cock had a big head, just like mine, I mean ours."
"How did he react?" I asked, both curious and excited
by this revelation.
"He blew his load in just a few seconds," said Carl.
"Having my skin over his cut head was such a turn-on
he lost control, and I felt him shoot his load into my
hood. He was so turned-on that his knees buckled when
he began to shoot, and I had to hold him up to keep
him from collapsing."
"What did you do then?" I asked, becoming more excited
as Carl continued his narrative. 
"I pushed him up against the counter, we were doing
this in the bathroom, and then I unloaded too. I think
if our holes had been lined up I would have shot my
load right down his tube." Carl began sliding my hood
forward until the orifice was poised at the front of
his glans, then continued, pushing it over the front
of his. I grasped the edges of my hood, stretching it
out until it formed a deep tunnel, and slid it the
rest of the way to engulf his glans. I heard him gasp.
"Wow! That feels so g
ood, being joined to you this way. Maybe we'd better
go in the bedroom. I know my knees would buckle if I
unloaded into your skin right now." He led me, walking
sideways slowly and carefully, to the big queen size
bed, and we managed to lie down facing each other
without breaking the contact.
"Here, let me help," I said as I grasped his foreskin,
which was still rolled back behind his rim, and pulled
it towards me by the edges. The stretchy wet hood slid
over his foreskin-covered head, then up onto mine, a
double envelopment.
"That's so sexy," Carl muttered through gritted teeth.
"Now we're really joined together.
"I feel the same way you do," I replied. "This is a
really hot turn-on for me." My fingers began massaging
both cock-heads through the double layer of skin, and
I saw Carl's eyes begin to close.
"I'm close, so close," he whispered.
"Do your eyes always close when you're about to come?"
I asked.
"Oh, yeah, especially when I'm excited like now. You?"
"Mine too," I replied, massaging the foreskin-covered
bulbs. "I think I'm ready to pop too. If you come
first, I'll follow you in a second." I felt his big
helmet throbbing through the skin and against mine,
and I knew he was seconds away from climax, when he'd
release his hot fluid into our hoods.
"Now," he murmured as his hips began to buck slightly.
His entire body tensed, and I felt a hard throb
against my tip, followed by a hot gush as his first
jet poured into my hood. Carl howled, crying out
helplessly as the biological storm overwhelmed him,
and another hot jet swirled around my aching glans,
triggering my release. I couldn't keep my eyes open
anymore, and my awareness of the outside world faded
quickly as my mind focused only on our joined pricks.
"OOOHHHHHH," I cried out, as the intense pounding of
orgasm began deep inside me. A hot jet shot up my
tube, burning like lava, sending me into an orgastic
frenzy. My engorged cock throbbed hard, then throbbed
again as another heavy jet gushed up my urethra,
joining his fluid as it gushed from my hole. My
fingers felt the ballooning of our combined foreskins
as they filled with hot cum, and my pounding glans was
awash in juice, floating in the liquid fire that
filled our hoods.
I felt Carl's fingers join mine, wrapping around our
cocks, as we ejaculated again and again, lost in the
free-fall of release. I lost track of time, aware only
of Carl's hot cock spitting its load against mine, in
counterpoint to my jets. An eternity later, my spasms
faded, and I began to be aware of Carl in front of me,
and as my eyes opened I saw him studying my face. His
orgasm had ended seconds before mine, and as he
recovered he watched me avidly.
"I love to watch a man's face as he comes," he
explained. "You were really into it." As he spoke, I
felt his cock begin to soften, and Carl rolled his
foreskin back off mine. We slowly pulled apart, my
foreskin sliding back from his tip, lubricated by our
heavy viscous streams. A heavy gush of white cream
flowed onto the bed as our cocks separated, and Carl
grabbed a towel to sop up our mixed juices.
"I wonder if we have the same taste in drinks?" he
asked. "I'm partial to Martinis, gin, four to one
mixture." He saw my face light up as I answered:
"That's exactly what I drink. Want me to make them?"
"Hey, you're my guest. I'll make them. Let's go into
the kitchen." I followed him, and sat in one of his
excellent overstuffed kitchen chairs, equipped with
casters, as Carl fixed our drinks. 
"What do you like in yours? Olives? Onions? On the
rocks?"
"Olives, of course. With an onion, it's a Gibson," I
replied. "On the rocks, too, the way you're fixing
yours."
"Some like both olives and onions," he said as he
speared a couple of olives with a toothpick and
dropped them into my drink.
"Then it's a Garden Salad," I said as I accepted the
drink from his hand. He sat down opposite me and
lifted his glass in a toast. We took a deep sip of the
icy liquid, and I saw him smiling at me.
"It's amazing," he began, "how alike we are. We're not
at all related, yet we seem to like the same things.
You like pizza?"
"Oh, yes I do," I replied. Pepperoni, mushrooms, and
anchovies. You?"
"Amazing. I like my pizza exactly that way too." He
lifted his glass and took another sip, and I followed
suit, feeling the icy liquid burn its way down my
gullet. Then I realized we were still naked, and that
a drop of cream was seeping from the end of my
foreskin. I didn't want to wet Carl's chair, so I
grabbed for a napkin, and when Carl saw what I was
doing, he took a napkin as well, placing it under the
nipple of his foreskin. 
"I guess we'll work up appetites in a while, he said.
"Then I'll send out for a pizza. There's a small mom
and pop shop that delivers, and they make far better
pizzas than any of the big chains."
"Sounds good," I said. "I'm particular about my pizza
like you, and don't like the chains either." I took
another pull at my drink, emptying it, and Carl
grabbed my glass and fixed us each another, as he'd
finished his as well. As we sipped our second round,
my hand went absently to my crotch. 
"I like to cook, too," he said. I replied that I, too,
enjoyed cooking. 
"I'm into French and German cooking," he said.
"I'm into French and Italian cooking, but really love
German food too, especially sauerbraten and
wienerschnitzel."
"Those are my favorites," he exclaimed with a big
smile. Suddenly, I realized that the revelations of
our many similarities were having a profound effect on
me, not only emotional, but also physical. I was
getting hard again.
"Uh, Carl," I began.
"I know. I'm that way too," he said. I then saw that
his left hand was in his lap.
"This conversation's got me horny, even though it
wasn't about sex," I said as I drained my glass. "You
too?"
"Better believe it," Carl replied as he stood, and I
saw his cock sticking straight out, the foreskin
stretched tightly over the bulging helmet, closed at
the end with a tight pucker, exactly like mine. "I
think it's the intimacy, or the strong likeness
between us, or something, but I'm getting horny again.
Just like you." He gulped down the rest of his drink,
grasped my hand and led me back into the bedroom. 
"What now?" I asked, unsure of myself.
"Go ahead, relieve yourself. I want to watch you jack
that beautiful prick. Then I'll do myself." He pushed
me flat on the bed and placed a couple of pillows
behind my head. 
"Need any help?" he asked, grasping the end of my
foreskin and pulling it out. My prick jerked at his
touch.
"Thanks, but you just sit back and enjoy the show." I
began stroking my foreskin up and down, baring the big
purple helmet to the rim, then engulfing it fully.
"Can I help just a little bit?" he asked as he cupped
my balls.
"I just love your touch," I said. Go ahead and help
all you want." I reached for his hardness and began
working the foreskin slowly, careful not to bring him
too close to the brink.
"That feels wonderful," he said, sighing deeply.
"I'm not trying to make you cum," I explained. "It's
just that touching your prick excites me." 
"Touching you excites me too." Carl smiled as he
gently kneaded my tight scrotum, the sensations adding
to my excitement. He swiveled around to almost a "69"
position, laying his head on my left hip and placing
his groin where I could easily reach it with my left
hand, as I was playing with his cock.
I was trying to hold back, wanting to prolong the
moment, but the memory of our docking and the sight
and feel of him next to me fueled my fire, and I felt
my excitement rising uncontrollably. Although I was
stroking myself slowly, I felt myself approaching the
brink. As I always do when I get close, I now drew my
prepuce back all the way, making it snap down into the
deep groove behind my corona. This was to let the
glans swell fully, free from my tight foreskin and the
pressure of my fingers. I saw Carl's eyes widen as he
watched my glistening cock-head expand and turn darker
purple. 
"When you start coming, I'll palm your tip," he said.
I knew what he meant, that he'd place the palm of his
hand over the front of my glans to give me extra
friction.
I pulled back hard on my skin, stretching the many
nerve endings inside, moaning as the sensations filled
my prick. I began to move the thick fleshy collar,
bumping the flaring ridge lightly. We both watched as
the teardrop at the end of my glans began to seep
clear fluid, the precursor of the hot jets to follow.
I felt a tightening in my cock-root, and my eyes began
to close. 
Bumping my ridge produced a tickling feeling, and as
my excitement rose the tickle changed to a hot tingle.
The liquid seeping from my glans, aching for release,
coated it and flowed down onto my fingers. Suddenly a
hot spark filled my glans and shot down my shaft, and
I cried out helplessly as the heavy pounding of orgasm
began in my cock-root. 
My hips bucked, and I grunted heavily as the first hot
jet shot up my urethra, burning its way and filling my
prick with sensation. Suddenly, I felt a roughness
against the front of my glans, and I knew it was
Carl's palm rubbing the sensitive tissue, lubricated
by my emissions. My hot tip throbbed with the
delicious agony of the friction, and my cock-root
pulsed again as I surrendered to the stimulations. I
don't remember when my hand dropped away from Carl's
prick, but he told me later that if I'd continued
touching him, he'd have lost it right then.
My state of altered consciousness continued for an
indefinite time, then my orgasm dissipated and I
opened my eyes again. Carl was smiling down at me.
"Man, that was something!" he said. "I really enjoyed
watching and feeling you unload." He was rolling up
the cum-soaked towel and pulling my hood forward to
protect my now shrinking head. Holding my prick
between two fingers placed right behind the
skin-covered ridge, he dabbed at the thick wet pucker
in front. I noticed his prick was still fully hard. 
"Now it's your turn," I said, pushing him flat. He had
another towel in his hand, which he spread over his
chest and stomach. His penis was flat against his
abdomen, and I picked it up by the thick foreskin. His
fingers closed around mine, reminding me that he
wanted to bring himself to climax, and I sat back to
cup his balls with my other hand. He began sliding the
foreskin up and down the engorged head, slowly and
lovingly, and each time he bared the twin lobes under
his glans, I pressed a finger hard into the triangular
groove to hit his frenulum.
Each press of my fingertip made him gasp, and the pace
of his stroking quickened as his excitement mounted. I
wanted to watch and feel him come, My impatience
obvious as I saw his glans swell more fully and turn
darker purple. Now he'd skinned it back completely,
and was running his fingertips around the naked,
flaring rim, concentrating on the back face where the
spiculae of sensation studded the surface. I continued
pressing my fingertip into the underside of his
helmet, and watched his eyes close and his face
contort as the combined sensations overwhelmed him.
Carl's body shuddered, he let out a loud "OOOHHHH,"
and tumbled into the free-fall of orgasm as I felt his
glans pulse against my fingertip. My other hand,
cupping his balls, had its fingertips pressed into the
sensitive tissue behind his scrotum, and felt the
pulse of the first ejaculation first. The dark purple
glans throbbed hard as the first jet erupted, shooting
five inches into the air. 
Carl was crying out helplessly, totally submerged in
waves of sensation, fingertips dancing over his hot
hard glans. I felt another hard pulse behind his
balls, and another jet shot from his teardrop shaped
orifice. Carl howled again, his body shuddering as
more hot jets gushed from his engorged glans, but not
as high this time. Now his emissions were just heavy
dribbles that stretched the lips of his hole, and they
flowed down over his fingers. 
When he'd calmed completely, I began rolling up the
towel. I pushed his foreskin forward over the precious
head, and dabbed at the thick pucker to get the last
drops, as he'd done to me. I pressed a fingertip under
his balls, probing for the urethra so that I could
milk the last drops from him. I ran my fingertip in
successive stages, up the bottom of his softening
prick, until the last drop had seeped from between his
cock-lips. 
"I really enjoyed that, Carl." I leaned down to kiss
him tenderly on the forehead, then on the lips. 
"How long did our orgasms last?" he asked. "Any idea?"
"Oh, no," I replied. "When I was coming, it felt like
eternity. When you came, I was too caught up watching
the action to count. However, some years ago I was
curious about that. Up to then, I'd thought my orgasm
lasted maybe five, ten seconds. I set up my camcorder
to record a jack-off session. You can imagine my
surprise when I played it back."
"What happened?" he asked.
"I'd put the counter on the screen and run the tape
slow-motion. From the first jet to the last drop, it
was 43 seconds."
"That long?" Carl commented.
"Yeah, that long. I'd found that my time-sense really
got distorted when I came, and time seemed to
compress. Anyway, I'm only semi-conscious during
orgasm. Does that happen to you?"
"Yeah, you saw what happened. I was laying there,
totally out of it, just wrapped up in my sensations,
hardly even aware that you were right next to me." I
felt a profound sense of satisfaction hearing this,
because I was happy and proud to have contributed to
Carl's pleasure. 
"When I begin to come, I withdraw into myself. I'm
less aware of what's happening outside my body,
because my mind if totally focused on my cock," I
said. "That's a lot like what happens to you, I
think."
"Yeah, you were lying there, totally helpless in my
hands," Carl added. "You were crying out, gasping,
writhing, shooting, and all that goes with it." 
"I'm glad you saw it."
"I'm really glad I did, and I'm glad you were here to
see me," Carl said. 
Our conversation petered out, and sank into the deep
sleep of total fulfillment. We never did eat a pizza
that night.
Next morning we awoke, noticing each other's
erections. 
"Let's get cleaned up," Carl suggested. "Since we
can't both sit on the pot, you go first, then I'll go
while you're taking your shower." I followed his
suggestion, and after we'd finished we returned to the
bedroom, dressed, and went out to breakfast. Then I
found we had another similarity in our tastes in food,
as we both ordered biscuits and gravy. We drove back
to his house and stripped down once in the bedroom. It
was a foregone and unstated conclusion that we were
going to continue our sexual explorations.
My prick was still soft when Carl crouched next to me
on the bed. Picking it up with two fingers, he bent
his head and I felt his tongue lap the edges of my
foreskin. My prick began to swell, but long before it
attained full hardness, I felt his tongue slipping
into my hood, probing my slit.
"OOOHHHH," I moaned. "That's just what I like." He
raised his head.
"I just had to taste you," he said. I squirmed into a
"69" position with him, grasping his prick with two
fingers at the crown of the foreskin-covered head. I
slipped my tongue inside the hood, tickling his slit
as he'd done to mine. I felt his tongue probing
deeper, caressing my swollen corona as the thickness
of his tongue stretched the nerve endings in my
foreskin. I did the same to him, then pushed his
foreskin back with my lips until the shiny purple
helmet was gloriously exposed. I think the glans is
the most attractive part of a man's prick.
"That is beautiful, just beautiful," I whispered. I
saw that his teardrop shaped orifice had filled with
clear fluid, and I licked it away with my tongue-tip,
savoring its tasty slipperiness. Carl peeled my
foreskin back with two fingers, uncovering the head
right down to the ridge, and running his tongue around
the sensitive nerve endings of the back-face. I
shuddered in delight.
"That really reached you, didn't it?" he asked. His
other hand cupped my balls.
"Your tongue feels so warm against my prick," I
replied. "You really know how to make it feel good.
Carl's response was to engulf my tip completely,
lip-locking behind my flaring ridge. I did the same to
him, my tongue-tip probing his meatus, then tracing
small circles around it. 
"Let me do you first," he suggested. "That way, I can
concentrate on what I'm doing."
"Yeah, you're right. I might get carried away and bite
you," I said after releasing his trapped tip. My
fingers still encircled his hot hard shaft, gently
sliding the skin up and down.
"Just don't make me cum," he warned. "I want to have
my eyes open to watch you when you shoot your load."
His lips caressed my flaring corona, and I felt the
rough surface of his tongue on the broad upper surface
of my glans. 
"I'm so full of coffee that I'd be hard even if you
weren't sucking me," I said. "I find a full bladder
heightens my sensations, don't you?" Carl removed his
mouth from my prick long enough to say: 
"Me too. I don't think we'll be able to hold off for
long." He then resumed lapping at my naked glans,
carefully caressing every surface and enhancing my
arousal. I felt my tip swell even more, reaching the
plateau just before orgasm. I saw his cock-head,
inches in front of my eyes, turn darker purple because
my caressing fingers were exciting him too.
"I'm almost there," I whispered. "You'll have my load
in just a few seconds."
Now his lips engulfed my glans completely, locking
into the deep groove behind the head as he stretched
my foreskin tightly back. The nerve endings in my
foreskin tingled, and I felt the tingle spread to the
swollen rim. When the fingers of his other hand dug
into the tissue behind my balls, pressing into the
urethra, my cock throbbed in response. 
"OOHHHHH," I groaned as Carl skillfully fueled my
excitement. My engorged cock-head was aching for
release, and I moaned again as a hot buzzing tingle
filled it. My eyes closed as I felt myself slipping
over the brink. 
"Now I'll make you come," he said as he momentarily
removed his mouth. His fingers pushed my foreskin up
over the head of my cock, then snapped it back hard as
his lips again engulfed my glans. He pushed my skin up
as he withdrew his lips, then drew the foreskin back
to let his lips slide down the length of my turgid
glans. The doubled stimulation sent me over the brink,
and I howled in agonized ecstasy as my cock-root
throbbed hard. I felt the sharp tickle as my first jet
poured into my tube, rushing towards the tip. The
fluid burned like hot lava, and I cried out
helplessly, lost in sensation as I creamed into his
waiting mouth.
Jet after burning jet shot from my hot tortured tip as
Carl drained me, sucking avidly to draw the hot fluid
from my throbbing prick. It felt as if my entire being
was gushing out through my engorged cock, and I was
dying in stages as my consciousness waned. My entire
world was in my cock as his hot lips and encircling
fingers filled my glans with sensation, and I felt
utterly helpless as I gushed again and again. My tip
became very sensitive, and Carl must have sensed this,
because he stopped.
When my frenzied gushes faded, and I began to regain
full consciousness, I heard his voice:
"Man, you really blew a load that time. Your cock was
throbbing so hard in my mouth I thought it was going
to burst." His fingers tenderly pulled my hood up over
the head as I began to relax.
"You really had me going," I said. "That was so hot I
almost fainted." Carl was wiping the end of my
foreskin with a towel while milking the residue from
my softening prick.
"Want to rest for awhile?" he asked. On the contrary,
I wasn't about to lie back and relax because that
orgasm hadn't sedated me: it had energized me, and I
wanted to do to his beautiful prick what he'd done to
mine. I pushed him flat on the bed and grasped his
turgid staff between two fingers. 
"Now it's your turn," I said. "I'm going to drain the
cream from your cock and swallow it all." I pulled his
foreskin back as my lips engulfed his hot shapely
purple helmet. I felt his cock-head throb against my
lips as his body responded, and I pulled my lips away
to pump his long thick foreskin all the way up to
envelop his head and form a thick pucker at the end.
Now I snapped his hood all the way back hard,
stretching its nerve endings as he'd done to mie, and
engulfing his hot hard glans with my lips. My
tongue-tip played with the hole, then I withdrew and
pushed his hood back onto the head. 
"That's^Åthat's^Å soooo hot!" he exclaimed as the
sensations reached him, and I snapped his hood back
again to bare the head for my lips. I pushed back
hard, feeling the tissues tighten under my lips as
they closed around his tightly drawn back foreskin,
and my tongue tickled the hot spot under the head. I
moved my head back, sudying the hard purple glans as I
pushed the thick fleshy collar over it, then drew his
foreskin back once more the bare the beautiful head
for my waiting lips. 
I felt his hot hard glans throb against my encircling
lips and a hot gush filled my mouth. I heard him cry
out, filling the room with an agonized howl as he shot
his thick gush. His hips bucked, and I rolled onto his
legs as I pulled my lips back and bumped the ridge
with his foreskin. His cock throbbed again and his
body struggled against mine as the full force of
orgasm whipped him. 
Now I was draining him, and he gushed again, the hot
jet pouring into the back of my throat, forcing me to
swallow urgently. I sucked his swollen tip hard,
making him shoot again. His cock thrust into my mouth,
spilling another hot gush into the back of my throat,
and I heard him sobbing helplessly as the rush of
sensations overwhelmed him. 
Now I pressed a finger into the underside of his cock
at the base, blocking further ejaculations and making
the pressure build up inside. Carl cried out and shot
again, this time making his tube swell with the
pressure. His cock throbbed again and he screamed as
his urethra swelled. Now I released the pressure,
sucking his glans to provoke another stream, and a
steady gush poured into my mouth. He was helpless in
my hands as I drained him completely, and in another
few seconds I'd exhausted him. I stopped because I
knew his tip must also have become super-sensitive
like mine at this point.
"OOOOHHHHH," he moaned softly as he began to relax. I
pulled his foreskin up to cover the super-sensitive
glans, and dabbed at the thick pucker with a towel to
capture the residue as it dripped from his foreskin.
My fingertip milked his softening cock, forcing out
the drops that had been trapped in his urethra, and I
wiped them away with the towel as they seeped from the
thick foreskin pucker. 
"I was watching your big tip swelling and turning
darker as you got close," I said. "It's really
beautiful, with those sexy curves that I adore."
"Yours is the same as mine in every way," he replied.
"I think I could stare at it all day. When you get
hard, I love to skin it back so I can see the big
purple head."
"You love to taste it too, I noticed. Just like I love
to taste yours."
"Yes, yours tastes and smells so nice," Carl said.
"I'm so glad we both still have our skins. They're
really fun to play with."
"They keep our tips moist and protected, nice and
sensitive," I said.
"Ever try wearing your skin back? I know it'll lock
behind your big rim even without a hard-on, like mine
does."
"I tried that once, didn't like it," I replied. " I
didn't do that again, especially because I want to
keep my tip protected, the way nature designed it." We
dozed off, fully satisfied.
Waking up a couple of hours later, we were both hard.
I saw that the big bulge in Carl's foreskin distended
the hood tightly, almost stretching the pucker at the
end. Mine was the same way. Obviously, we were either
piss-hard or ready to go again, probably both.
"Gotta pee," he said, "but I can't with a full
hard-on. 
"Same here. I have to get it down a bit before I can
release it. Maybe we can do a bit of exercise to get
them down." We both got up, on opposite sides of the
bed.
Carl looked at me and began jogging in place next to
the bed. His prick bobbed up and down, and gradually
began to soften. I copied him, and soon my prick had
lost its extreme hardness, and I followed him into the
bathroom. He turned and grasped my foreskin as I moved
next to him in front of the sink.
"Here, I'll skin yours back and aim it, and you do the
same to mine." His fingers firmly slid my hood back
half-way off the head.
"Okay, I'll do yours." I slipped his foreskin back,
partly revealing the precious head. "Ready?" I asked.
His answer was to let his yellow stream flow in an arc
into the sink, where it flowed down the drain. As he
had mine aimed into the sink, I consciously relaxed my
sphincter and within seconds my stream was mixing with
his. He finished first, and I carefully milked his
prick to extract the last drops before sliding his
foreskin forward to cover the glans. I felt his
fingers pinching off my urethra, stopping my flow.
"Wow, I just love handling your penis," he said. "It
works exactly like mine. I bet you're feeling a hot
tickle inside your tube right now." When I nodded he
continued:
"I often do that to myself. It gives me a thrill
without getting me hard. I'll do it for a quick thrill
in the men's room, or other times when I have to pee."
"I've done it a few times myself," I replied. "I guess
we not only look alike, but we enjoy the same things,
even how we handle our pricks." Now I felt his fingers
slacken their grip and my flow resumed. When the last
trickle had seeped from the end of my glans, Carl
began milking my shaft to force the residue out of my
tube. He dabbed the end with a piece of toilet paper
before sliding my foreskin to its original position. 
"There's another thing I'd like to try. Maybe you've
heard of it. It's called `Princeton,' and it's a lot
of fun." I'd heard of it, and had done it a few times.

"I'd love that," I said. "Which one of us takes it
between the legs?" 
"Let's flip a coin," Carl suggested. We did, and I got
to slide my prick between his thighs. Carl pulled a
condom from the bedside table and I poured some
Astroglide into it to provide lubrication. The condom
was to prevent hair burns and to keep my sperm from
going into his pubic hairs, where it would be hard to
remove. Carl rolled the condom over the head of my
hard penis after I'd pulled the skin all the way back
to lock it behind the ridge, then lay on the bed on
his left side. I eased in behind him as he lifted his
leg, and my prick slid between his thighs, right under
his perineum. The engorged head pressed against his
balls. Carl spread a towel in front of his stomach to
catch his discharge, and I wrapped my fingers around
his shaft.
"Ready?" he asked. I began thrusting, slowly and
deliberately, as I pulled his long foreskin completely
off the big purple helmet, now fully engorged. I felt
the delicious sensation as my penis slid back and
forth inside the condom. Carl had tightened his thigh
muscles to squeeze my prick, and the friction was deep
and satisfying. I pushed his snug foreskin up over his
swollen head, making him gasp at the sharpness of the
sensations. I slid my left arm under his waist to hold
him close to me as I moved.
"How does that feel for you?" I asked. I kept sliding
his hood in time with my thrusts, hoping we'd keep
pace and come to climax together. 
"Nice, very nice. I just love to feel your fingers
around my prick," he said. I felt the contours of his
swollen glans through the skin as I moved it, and I
kept my thumb over his flaring corona because I knew
this produced heavy sensations that would drive him
over the edge. My index finger pressed into the hot
spot under his glans to sharpen the sensations, as I
knew my orgasm would soon arrive.
"I can tell it won't be long before you blast off," I
said as I kept massaging the thick foreskin over the
swollen head. I snapped my thumb a couple of times
over his corona, forcibly sliding the skin back and
forth over this crown of nerve endings, feeling his
body tense in response. I felt his hand slide between
his thighs under my prick, a fingertip caressing the
underside of my glans as it slid back and forth. I
pulled back hard on Carl's skin, tightening it under
the head and stretching the nerve endings to make him
gasp.
Although I was consciously trying to keep my crotch
muscles relaxed to delay orgasm, Carl wasn't going to
let me. His insistent fingers pressed hard into the
hot spot under the head, making my crotch muscles
spasm each time I thrust. I knew he'd make me come
soon, and I knew that the orgasm would overwhelm me,
turning me into a thrusting, gasping automaton. I
pulled his foreskin forward again, twisting it as I
covered his glans. I felt his glans swell and harden
even more through the skin, and I knew he was right
there, ready to pop.
"Any second^Å" he muttered as the full force of the
sensations reached him. My fingers on his penis and
the tip of my prick bumping against his balls were an
irresistible combination, and I felt his body begin to
tense against mine. While I was still able to think
consciously, I imagined how it felt for him, a turgid
penis thrusting between his thighs and warm fingers
snapping his tight foreskin back and forth over his
sensitive tip. Then I felt the involuntary tightening
in my crotch muscles, the precursor of the waves of
orgasm that would soon overwhelm me, and I began to
let go. 
"Me too^Å.." were my last works as my hips slammed hard
against his buttocks, my body responding automatically
to the sharp sensations in my swollen prick. A hot
fire seemed to engulf my glans, then spread quickly
down to my cock-root, and I was lost. I dimly heard
myself crying out; "HAH-AH-AH-AH^Å" as tumbled wildly
off the edge.
The first hot burning jet rushed up my urethra,
pouring out into the condom and engulfing my glans. My
fist tightened around Carl's prick, and I felt his
hardness begin to throb as he joined me. I heard his
loud agonized cries fill the room as his first jet
pulsed up his penis, but I didn't see it gush from his
tip because my eyes were screwed shut. I felt his body
strain against mine, driven by the hot heavy waves of
orgasm, and I cried out in tortured ecstasy as my hot
prick throbbed between his thighs.
We were semi-conscious, aware only of our physical
needs and our heavy jets gushing from our pricks as we
shared the orgasm. We were truly joined in sexual
passion, and shuddering against each other, our
conscious minds on "HOLD," until we had drained
ourselves. Then we began to relax, our breathing
slowing and our rock-hard erections beginning to
soften. I held on to the condom as I pulled my prick
from between his thighs, and he turned around to face
me. He gave me a tender kiss on the lips, and we
drifted into sleep.

The End