Date: Thu, 2 Aug 2012 12:28:20 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jack Santoro <jackinnm1@yahoo.com>
Subject: Twin Brothers, Part 18, Incest

Twin Brothers, Part 18
By Jack Santoro
Jackinnm1@yahoo.com

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     After Bill had left, Jim and I were still horny, although we'd drained
ourselves that morning and the day before. It was pretty evident, because
although we were limp our bloated helmets bulged more than usual inside
their foreskins. My foreskin nipple still dangled off the end, but the
swollen glans stretched Jim's foreskin open in a dime size orifice,
revealing the very end of his front dome. I noted that his slit, normally
closed, was pouting in that sexy teardrop shape we shared as identical
twins, and I presumed that mine was also pouting.  He caught my eye and
said:

     "Hey, Bro, I think we both need to come once more. My tip's swollen
and I think yours is too." He reached out to grasp my prick around the
covered head, sliding the hood back to reveal the rich purple tip, and we
both saw that my slit was definitely pouting just like his. His gentle
touch provoked a twitch deep inside me, and I replied:

     "You're right, Jim. I need to come again, and so do you." He pulled my
long hood forward to engulf my helmet and I drew him close to me and kissed
him on the lips as I squeezed his expanding glans through his hood. He
squeezed mine in return, producing a twitch deep inside me, the
bulbo-cavernal reflex. Squeezing our helmets always resulted in powerful
erections as our pricks responded to the stimulation.

     "I think simple stroking's going to be enough to get me off," Jim told
me.

     "Let's do each other," I suggested. "That's always sexy and I love to
feel your hand on my prick." Jim began working my foreskin up and down in
long slow strokes, dragging it down to expose the glans completely, and
then strumming my frenulum with his finger to produce a sharp sensation
that sent sparks through my shaft. He finished the stroke by bringing my
foreskin up to engulf the glans, producing a deep and satisfying friction
in my helmet. I did the same for him, giving an extra tug on the
down-stroke to put tension on his gee-string and pull the front of his
glans down.

     Jim's hood was shorter than mine because although as identical twins
we'd been born with identical pricks, our crazy mother had instructed the
doctor to remove his foreskin so that she'd always be able to tell us
apart. Even as young boys, once we became aware of the difference between
our pricks we grieved over his lost foreskin, and several years ago we'd
begun skin-stretching exercises. Jim had regained a hood formed from
stretched shaft skin, and I'd lengthened mine so that I could dock him. My
longer hood allowed a longer stroke, and Jim took full advantage of this to
give me exquisite sensations.

     "Let's get on the bed," Jim said, momentarily breaking off his
caresses to lead me to the bedroom, where he spread a towel on the bed. We
lay facing each other and resumed stroking each other's pricks. As I worked
on his prick with my right hand, my left cupped his scrotum, already
tightening from excitement, and I felt his fingers delicately closing
around mine. My fingertips, pressing lightly against his perineum, would
feel the pulses of his ejaculations, and he'd feel mine. I delicately
kneaded his balls and felt him doing mine.

     "Let's come together," I suggested, and Jim nodded assent. Our usual
practice was to come one after the other to enjoy the other's orgasms
vicariously, but now that we'd be sharing the magic moment it would feel
more intimate.

     I looked down to study Jim's prick as I worked his foreskin up and
down his glans, and saw that his helmet's eye was weeping viscous tears
that lubricated his foreskin. I knew I was also lubricating, as I felt
large drops of fluid crawling up my urethra to fill my pouting meatus and
spill into my long hood.

     On the down-strokes, we made sure to caress the gee-string, the hot
spot in the delta of the glans. Although Jim had been circumcised, the
doctor had been careful to leave his frenulum intact, and it filled the
v-shaped groove where the twin lobes of the corona met on the underside,
exactly like mine did.

     "I know we're both really worked up," He commented. "I can feel your
tip's gotten harder, and I know mine has too." I acknowledged him:

     "You're right, Jim. I'm feeling that delicious ache in my helmet. It's
so swollen, like yours." The ache confirmed our need for orgasm, a tangible
signal that we had to blow our loads soon. Our foreskins were dripping wet
with natural lubricant that we'd been seeping copiously from our pouting
orifices and it dripped onto the towel. My prick felt very warm from the
insistent friction Jim was applying, running my foreskin all the way up and
then all the way down my glans. Jim's prick felt hot in my hand.

     "Let's slow down a bit," Jim proposed. "I know we need to come, but
let's try to make it last a bit longer." I felt his strokes slow on my
prick and I eased my pace on his.

     "We'll have more control going slower," I said. "Just let me know when
you start to get that tickle in your rim." We both experienced a tickle in
our coronas when orgasm approached, and knew that it was only seconds
before the tickle would change to a hot tingle, right on the edge of
orgasm.

     "Okay, Bro. If I get that tickle first, slow down even more so you can
catch up to me," he said. Our foreskins were bumping and then sliding over
our flaring coronas with each forward stroke, caressing and compressing the
nerve endings, bringing on the magic tickle.

     "That feels so good on my rim," I whispered.

     "Me, too, Bro. It also feels good when you pull down on my gee-string
and the head dips. Your hand feels so hot on my cock." We were stroking
slowly, in perfect synchronization, baring our wet glossy helmets at the
same moment and then bringing our hoods up to wrap them again, right to the
end.

     "Our tips are deep purple now," I murmured. We both stroked downward
and I added: "Our rims are so dark they're almost black." I kissed Jim
lightly on the lips.

     "My tickle's starting," Jim warned me, and I slowed my hand still
further. Jim continued stroking my prick, now twisting his fist to produce
the delicious sideways friction that sent thrills through my aching corona.

     "Now my rim's tickling too," I whispered as my eyes closed.

     "Okay, we're very close now. Let's continue and we'll be blasting off
in a few seconds," Jim said. I felt a twitch deep inside and said:

     "I'm getting that thrill."  Involuntarily I thrust my hips forward
slightly and felt the front dome of his helmet pressing against mine, the
hot contact wildly erotic.

     "I'm tingling," Jim said as I felt his fist twisting my foreskin
forcefully over my helmet so that my climax would begin simultaneously. Hot
sparks of sensation stabbed deeply into my glans and I felt the hot tingle
in my hard flaring corona that expanded to fill my glans and then exploded
down my shaft to the root.

     "NOW!"  We yelped simultaneously and I felt his urethra pulse against
my pressing fingertips. An instant later I felt his hot gush against the
front of my glans and an instant later my first shot dilated my urethra and
slammed through the pouting lips of my orifice. Our pricks were dripping
wet and my fingers slipped off his foreskin and rubbed his throbbing glans
directly, bringing forth a yelp of joyous agony from him. My fingertips dug
into the frenular delta under his glans, intensifying his sensation.

     We were both grunting as our bodies strained in orgasm, mindless
spasms wracking us and dominating our consciousness. Our helmets throbbed
against each other as we grunted and groaned in joyous agony, spitting our
jets of cream on each other. Now my foreskin had locked behind my throbbing
ridge and his fingers touched my helmet, shooting lances of sensation into
my quivering nerve endings. I felt him pressing into my gee-string and I
moaned even louder.

     His hand slipped back on my shaft for a moment and I grasped both
helmets and gave a hard twist, a jolt of pure sensation that made us both
yelp loudly as the roots of our pricks contracted again, sending hot jets
hurtling up our shafts. We were both shuddering hard, caught up in the
throes of our climaxes. I felt each throb of Jim's helmet pounding against
mine.

     My tip suddenly became super-sensitive and I had to stop stroking. I
knew Jim's had also become overly sensitive at the same moment, signaling
that our orgasms were almost over. We removed our hands from each other's
pricks but kept the helmets pressed together to feel the last throbs as
sperm seeped from our widely pouting holes. Our groaning stopped and we
fell silent, our bodies relaxing as we slipped into the comforting daze
that follows orgasm. Much later, Jim spoke and I opened my eyes.

     "I think your fourth or fifth load shot down my tube."

     "I'm not surprised," I replied. "The way our helmets were pressed
together....." I trailed off.

     "That felt so good, your hot cream shooting down my hole while your
tip throbbed against mine." Jim leaned in toward me and kissed me on the
lips, his tongue probing inside my mouth. We held the kiss for a couple of
minutes as our hands ran over each other's bodies.

     Our pricks were now limp and shrunken, with the hoods still locked
behind our rims, leaving the glossy wet helmets bare to our gaze and
touch. I gently pulled Jim's foreskin forward to protect the precious head,
and his fingers closed around my shaft to drag my fleshy sleeve forward.

     "We ought to take a shower," I suggested. Under the hot water, we
reached down to push each other's foreskin back from the glans, making them
lock behind the flaring rims of our still-swollen helmets. I commented on
this:

     "Even though our shafts are limp, out tips are still swollen." Jim
agreed:

     "Yeah, Jack, they're soft, but still almost full size. That stream of
hot water makes me want to pee." A yellow stream dropped from the swollen
end of his helmet, and a second later I felt my sphincter open and a thick
gush poured from my still-pouting meatus.

     "That stream feels really hot," I commented. "I guess my bladder was
pretty full."

     "Mine feels hot too," Jim added. "I think my bladder was as full as
yours." Our streams dribbled off, and we milked our urethras to force out
the last drops. Jim lifted my penis and looked down at it. "Your hole's
still pouting, and I guess mine is too. I think our tips are going to be
swollen the rest of the day at least."

     "That's because of all the sexual excitement today," I said.

     "Our tips are pretty big normally," Jim said. "I think that looks
great, making a big bulge in the skin." He now pulled my foreskin up,
compressing the ridge as it slid up to cover my glans, and I did the same
for him. "I like that heavy-ended look," he added.

     "It's so sexy when your big-headed prick swings from side to side when
you move," I said. "It makes me want to push your foreskin back. I think
the helmet's the most beautiful part of the penis," I added.

     "We're lucky nature gave us such handsome cocks," he said. "I know
guys look at us a lot in the locker room." We got out of the shower and
dried ourselves.

     "That's true whether we keep the heads covered or skinned back," I
said. "The cut guys are envious of our foreskins, and all of them like the
shape of our helmets when we uncover them."

     "You know that guy Jerry, that used to go to the gym back in school?"
he asked.  "Years ago, before I started restoring, he told me that it was a
good thing I'd been circumcised because not having that tight skin made the
head grow bigger and the rim flare out."

     "I remember Jerry," I answered. "He's the circumcised guy with the
small acorn sized glans and thick Gomco scar."

     "That's him," Jim affirmed "I'm surprised he said that because he saw
your helmet when you skinned back in the shower. He must have seen that it
was the same size and shape as mine, with the same high flaring
ridge. Anyway, he was cut and still had a small head."

     "I guess that's cognitive dissonance, not seeing something staring you
in the face. He knew I had a long tight foreskin but didn't connect it."

     "I like the way your skin hugs the head. It's so tight, but it skins
back easily," he said.

     "Yours isn't as tight as mine because you had to stretch your shaft
skin to get your new foreskin," I told him. "Mine was tight as long as I
can remember.  I always had that long nipple."

     "I remember too, Jack. When we were kids yours looked a little like an
anteater because the end was tight. I don't think you were able to pull it
back until we got older."

     "You're right, Jim. I remember being able to see the head of your
prick because it was always exposed. Even when you were a kid it was a
handsome prick and I wanted to suck it. I knew I had a head inside my
foreskin because of the big bulge, but I didn't get to see it until I was
able to retract my hood."

     "I was with you when you first did that in the bath, when we were
eight," Jim said. "The hot water relaxed your skin and you were able to get
it back, and I saw that under the skin you were exactly like me. Remember
that the first time I saw you skinned back I sucked on your head, even
though it hadn't grown to full helmet shape yet. That was when I first
really understood what I'd lost when I was circumcised. My cock had
everything yours had except for foreskin."

     "Well, you got most of it back, Jim. You even have your gee-string
because the doctor didn't remove it. Your prick looks pretty nice now. If I
saw you for the first time and didn't know that you'd been circumcised, I'd
take it for natural."

     "You're right, Jack. Only the guys who knew us before we started
stretching our skins know that I was cut. Today, I've heard comments from a
couple of cut guys. They said they wished they were intact like me."

     "We had nice tips when we were kids, but when we got to be about 13,
our heads grew out to their full shape. Now we have these sexy purple
helmets with ridges that really stand out," I said.

     "I remember than when we were pre-teens our slits were just
slits. After we reached 13, they started to open up when we got hard."

     "Right, Jim. I love those pouting slits. They look so sexy. We've had
some nice comments about them from guys."

     "Yeah, Jack, I've heard a couple pf comments about mine. I've also
heard a few compliments about my new hood since I've been restored."

     "Well, I've had a couple of guys tell me they wished they had long
foreskins like me," I said. "These were intact guys who had short foreskins
that barely covered the head when they were soft, leaving an opening that
showed their slits."

     "Like me right now," Jim pointed out. "My tip's so swollen that it
doesn't cover right to the end." He held his prick up. "You can see the
slit, except that it's still pouting a little."

     "Well, when the swelling goes down, it'll be covered all the way
again. Let's have a couple of beers and get to bed. We have to work
tomorrow."

Continued in Part 19