Date: Fri, 10 Dec 2004 13:34:59 -0800 (PST)
From: Jack Santoro <jackinnm@yahoo.com>
Subject: All in Good Time, Part 1 of 10 SF

All in Good Time
By Jackinnm@yahoo.com

Note: This story is fiction, and given the plot,
mainly science fiction or imaginative fiction. Time
travel would be very nice if it were possible to do it
as easily as described here, especially considering
the benefits that this story describes.

	I'm gay, unreservedly so. This was the major
qualification for my selection for the project.
	A man from the Department of State walked into my
office that Friday morning without an appointment. I'm
a consulting engineer, and work alone, without even a
secretary, so he had no trouble getting a private hour
with me.
	As I discovered later, he was not really from the
State Department, the post being merely a cover for
his real function, a recruiter for a secret government
project. This involved a "time machine" in an effort
to project me into the past.
	Why me? As he'd explained, his agency had conducted a
secret search for prospects. Candidates had to be
first of all adventurous, because the project was so
imaginative that nobody had ever done it before and
the consequences and dangers were simply unknown.
There wasn't enough money in the world to hire a
conservative and cautious person to allow himself to
be projected into the past with no guarantee that he'd
ever return, and only a basic and limited knowledge of
what he'd find.
	Candidates also had to be intelligent enough to
understand the nature of the project, and to cooperate
fully with the experimenters. They also had to display
good judgment in order not to make mistakes that would
endanger themselves or the project. It was essential
not to change the past, as the consequences would be
unforeseeable. Nobody knew what might happen if the
time traveler changed the past or how it would have an
impact on the modern world, although it wasn't hard to
guess at some possible scenarios. Killing someone,
however well justified, would remove all of the
victim's descendents from the modern world. Fathering
a child would introduce a new element as well, with
unknown consequences, hence the requirement of
homosexuality. As I had absolutely no sexual interest
in women, the chances of my bringing a child into the
world were nil.
	Another qualification was the ability to break with
the present. As I had no wife or children, was an only
child, and both parents were dead, there wouldn't be
many people wondering about my disappearance. My
friends would know only that I'd left to take up a job
overseas.
	Intrigued by the lure of an almost unimaginable
adventure as a change from my relatively dull life, I
agreed to wind up my business and join the project.
Within a month I was at a secret government facility
in Arizona formerly used by the CIA for training to
learn the basic principles behind the project.
	Modern theoretical physics had established that both
time and space are relative, and that the past
co-exists with both the present and future. This made
it theoretically possible to sideslip into the past or
future. The project's purpose was to determine if a
human being could be thrown into another time,
slipping across time in both spirit and body. In
short, the idea was to see if fact matched theory.
	The scientists running the project had determined
that the attempt would be to project me into the past.
The reason was obvious. The past was known, but the
future was almost unpredictable, thereby lessening my
chances of survival. In the future, I might land in
the middle of a nuclear war, or an invasion by space
aliens, to name only two possibilities. A less
dramatic, but more realistic, possibility was that
there might be a new disease against which I had no
immunity. Most of all, there was no way to prepare me
for a future world, but the past was a known quantity.
Dr. Ellis, a physicist my age, 30, explained the
simple facts to me. He was also very attractive and
gay, and after hours we got it on. Later, I would
wonder if his job was also to test me and verify that
I was truly gay.
	Using the "time machine," it might even be possible
to send me back to a specific year, or even a specific
date. Where I'd end up was much less certain. Nobody
had any way of controlling geographical location where
I'd land. The safest bet was to begin the experiment
in the same locale as the target area, on the
assumption that I'd end up in that part of the Earth,
but earlier in time. Returning to my own time would
not be as easy. However, Dr. Ellis said they would
plant a "survival kit" for me in Central Park, where
it would be easy to find and dig up.
The place chosen was New York City, as I was familiar
with it, and had lived there most of my life. After a
month of familiarization about living conditions in
the New York of 1880, I was ready. I'd been given
clothing of that era and a supply of money. Then I
went with a crew to an apartment in Manhattan. The
process for me was simple and painless, as I stepped
into the chamber and walked through the "time portal."

	Suddenly I was walking down 1880 Fifth Avenue, and I
recognized it immediately from the old photographs I'd
seen. There was a hotel nearby, and I booked a room
for a base of operations.
	I walked into the old-fashioned bathroom to pee.
Compared to modern fixtures these were large.
Low-flush toilets weren't even a dream back in 1880,
and many toilets simply drained into a cesspool under
the building.
	I unbuttoned my pants (Zippers were not to be
invented until the 20th Century) and when I'd gotten
the last button undone I reached in through my
underwear for my penis. I didn't notice it at first,
but my penis felt slightly bulkier, thicker. I looked
up at the ceiling and consciously relaxed my
sphincter. I suddenly became aware of a hot rush
around the head of my cock, and when I looked down I
couldn't see the head at all, just its bulge showing
through a thick sleeve of flesh. The skin was
wrinkled, continuous with the skin of my shaft and
ending in a long rubbery snout beyond the head from
which urine was dribbling. I wasn't circumcised!
	Like most American boys born in 1990, my penis had
suffered the bite of the knife a couple of days after
birth because the money-hungry doctor was seeking to
earn a trip to Hawaii or pay off his Mercedes. As long
as I could remember, I'd seen my penis with its bare
helmet-shaped head ahead of a thick brown scar ring,
the remaining skin stretched tightly along the shaft.
I'd often wondered wistfully what my foreskin would
have looked like if it hadn't been amputated uselessly
in the frenzy of a medical fad. Now I knew.
	I cautiously drew my long foreskin back to bare the
front part of my helmet, careful not to let the stream
splash onto my pants. I saw that my glans was a glossy
deep purple, unlike the dry and grayish purple hue I'd
known all my life. The surface was moist and
sensitive, and the feeling of drawing my foreskin back
for urination was unmistakably erotic.
	Now I realized that I was truly a creature of the
past. In my new role I'd been born in 1850, a time
when foreskin amputation was unknown among Americans
except for a tiny religious minority. A foreskin was
the norm. If anyone had seen me naked and circumcised,
it would have aroused curiosity.
	As I pushed my penis back into my pants, I
experienced a feeling of profound tenderness in the
glans, and realized that I hadn't pulled my foreskin
fully over the head. My glans was exquisitely
sensitive, unlike the dried out one I'd lived with all
my life.
	I made sure the door to my room was locked and
stripped down, eager to explore my new sensations. I'd
had sexual experiences with a few uncut guys, and had
an idea of how to handle a foreskin. As I began
sliding my fleshy hood up and down my now-hard prick,
I was glad that I'd been given a long foreskin, as
this allowed a deliciously long stroke. Hot sparks of
sensation stabbed deeply into my glans as my pace
increased without my thinking about it, driven by the
hot tingle I felt in my glans. Within a minute I saw
red flashes as my penis and cock-root exploded in the
most intense orgasm of my life.
	My penis remained too sensitive to touch for a couple
of minutes, but finally I was able to milk my residual
drops and dab the end of my glans with my handkerchief
(Kleenex had not been invented) before an exhausted
sleep came over me.
	When I awoke it was dark, and I reflected on the
quirks of time travel. I not only was in the 19th
Century, but I had the physical characteristics of
someone born then. I examined myself and saw that not
only had my circumcision scar vanished, but my
appendectomy scar had also gone. My arms had no
vaccination scars. Mentally, I was as before. I had
all my memory. The revision seemed to have affected
only me. The clothing I'd been wearing and the
contents of my pockets were exactly the same as before
I'd stepped through the portal.
	Dressing once more, I wandered out into the street,
taking a horse-drawn bus for the theater district.
When I got off, I saw a restaurant in front of me and
realized that I had not eaten since lunch and it was
now about nine. The maitre'd informed me that all
tables were booked for the next two hours. I slipped
him a bill and said that I'd be willing to share a
table if possible. He said he'd see what he could do,
and within five minutes he returned and led me to  a
table. A fellow of about my age was already seated,
and he introduced himself as "Eric."
	The maitre'd probably thought he'd played a joke on
me, for Eric was definitely swishy. He was a bit
player in a theater production, which didn't surprise
me because in 1880s New York he wouldn't have fit in
as a longshoreman. With all that, Eric and I quickly
warmed to each other and when we'd finished Eric
invited me to his room, which was nearby, saying he
felt lonely.
	"I hope you'll stay the night," Eric said as he began
removing his clothes. I followed his lead and soon we
stood inspecting each other. Eric was about four
inches shorter than my six feet, and slightly thinner.
As we climbed into the double bed I noticed his penis
had a shorter and thinner foreskin than mine, and the
dime-sized opening at the end revealed the front of
his purple glans and his slit. I would have been very
surprised if he'd been circumcised, although this had
been the norm in what I was beginning to think of as
my former life. My most recent sexual contact, Dr.
Ellis, had definitely been circumcised. Eric pushed
the covers down to our knees, as it wasn't cold in the
room, and snuggled against me.
	"How big does yours get?" he asked without preamble
as I felt the warmth of his body pressing against
mine.
	"About six," I replied. "Yours?"
	"About five and a half," he said. I felt his fingers
rolling the nipple of my foreskin, sending electric
thrills into my cock. "Yours has a lot of skin. More
fun to play with." I responded by tweaking his glans
through the fleshy covering, feeling it quickly
swelling to match my growing erection. We were
responding strongly to each other and I was trembling
slightly with excitement. So was he. We looked down at
our crotches.
	"Your balls hang low," I commented.
	"Not for long" was his reply. "You really excite me."
	"Mine are always somewhat tight," I added.
	""Your skin covers the tip even now that you're
hard," he said. "That's very sexy."
	"Yours is halfway back," I said. "Does it always slip
back on its own?"
	"Yes, always. That makes it easier to suck," he said.
"You can push it the rest of the way back with your
lips." I was glad he'd said that, clearly expressing
his preference. I didn't know what it was called
during that are, and my saying "oral" might have
seemed anachronistic.
	"How about yours?" he asked, bringing my thoughts
back to the present. "Does yours go back or is it too
tight. Tell me so that I won't hurt you."
	I hesitated, struggling to describe my unfamiliar new
prick: "It's thick and tight, but it goes back. You
can use your fingers or lips. I'd really like to feel
your tongue inside my foreskin." Eric nimbly swiveled
to a "69" position and I saw his prick inches in front
of my eyes. The heavy odor of his masculinity hit my
nostrils, and my prick twitched. I felt him drawing
back my foreskin enough to bare the slit. My prick
twitched in response.
	"Want me to stick a finger in your ass?" he asked,
surprising me.
	"No, I don't go for that," I answered. %
93But if you want me to do it to you, that's all
right."
	"No, I don't care for that either," he replied.
	"Good. We're on the same wavelength," I said.
	"We're what?" he asked, a note of surprise in his
voice. I then realized that the term "wavelength" was
meaningless to someone who had never heard of radio,
TV, microwaves, and radar. I'd have to be careful
about these anachronisms in the future.
	"I meant, we think alike," I explained. "We have the
same preferences." This answer seemed to satisfy him,
for he concentrated on my penis, and inhaled deeply.
	"Yours smells very nice," he began. "I like the hole,
too. It looks like a teardrop. That's very cute."
	"I can see the shape of the head through your skin,"
he said as his fingers continued to explore my prick.
"Even when it was limp, it showed through. Now I want
to see that head bared," he continued as his fingers
delicately pushed back my foreskin, making my prick
tingle at each touch.
	"What you're doing really feels good," I said,
removing my mouth from Eric's prick for a moment.
	"I love the shape of that rim," he said. "It flares
and it's got little bumps on it. It must be very
sensitive." As he spoke he caressed my corona with his
fingertips. I'd felt other men's fingers on my glans
without their touch making me shudder with sensation,
but that was during my previous circumcised life. Dr.
Ellis had enjoyed tracing the upturned flare of my
corona, soothing me with gentle sensations to keep me
going before he descended on my glans with his avid
lips and hot tongue. My new glans was much more
sensitive and Eric's light touches sent hot sparks of
sensation stabbing deeply into my glans and down my
shaft. I felt a hard contraction in my cock-root,
launching my  orgasm, and my hot cream shot into
Eric's face. His lips immediately closed around my
throbbing glans, sucking it avidly to extract every
drop of my discharges. My staccato cries and gasps
filled the air as waves of blissful agony wracked my
body, and my prick spurted uncontrollably into his
mouth.
	When I was drained, I heard Eric's voice:
	"You must not have spent for a while," he said, using
the 19th Century term for coming. "You began spilling
your seed as soon as I touched your head. Your seed
was really flying from the head. I didn't expect your
stem to be so sensitive. Usually it's those who can't
push back their skins who spend so quickly. Last month
I touched a fellow whose skin only went back fully
when he was soft. His tip was very red, not purple
like yours. When he was hard, I could only get his
skin back to uncover the front of the head, and the
moment my finger touched it, he spent just like you
did." I remained silent, as I could not tell him about
my newly regained sensitivity and the sudden shock to
my system his fingertip touches had caused.
	"When was the last time you spent?" he asked. "It
must have been a week or more, judging from the amount
you spilled." I nodded, letting him believe his
conclusion. Maybe the volume of my discharge had led
him to think this. I realized that I'd shot a lot,
although my previous orgasm had been only a few hours
ago.
	"Your touch was so exciting," I explained. "You're
such an expert at handling my penis and you got me
really excited."
	"I'm glad I did," he replied. "You almost drowned me
with your seed. Your tip was throbbing very hard
between my lips."
	"That's what you did to me."
	"Well, you just relax. I'm sure you'll be hard again
in a few minutes and you can spend again." He drew my
foreskin forward over the head, gently clasping my
shrinking penis and cupping my balls. Eric's hard
prick was inches in front of my face and I began
working on it, lapping the front of his glans with my
tongue tip. As I did so, I felt him working his tongue
into the long nozzle of my foreskin.
	I felt his warm tongue tickling my meatus and then
insinuating itself into my foreskin. I let my lips
close over the front of his warm glans, tasting it for
the first time. It had a pleasant salty taste, and as
my lips pushed back its fleshy covering I caressed the
sexy contours of his sleek, bullet-shaped tip with my
tongue. In front of my eyes his scrotum was drawing up
tightly against his body.
	I felt a slippery and salty drop against my tongue
and realized that he'd secreted lubricant. With my
fingers I drew back his foreskin fully to make sure
his corona and groove were fully exposed and then
caressed them with my lips and tongue, probing his
slit to heighten his ardor.
	Eric's lips were around my foreskin, with most of my
glans in his mouth. His tongue was deep inside my
foreskin, exploring the contours of my helmet and
probing for my ridge. He still kept my foreskin
forward and as his tongue pushed deeper I felt its
thickness stretching my fleshy sheath and its nerve
endings, and my prick began to respond to the
stimulation, filling with blood.
	His balls were very tight against his body now, and I
felt his shaft stiffen even more. He was very excited,
and his glans leaked lubricant copiously as it swelled
and hardened in my mouth. His breathing was very fast,
and I was sure he'd blow his load before I would, as I
was always slower the second time.
	I felt a faint throb in his glans, a precursor of his
explosion to come, and at that moment he removed his
mouth from my cock, stabilizing the shaft with his
hand while his tongue-tip probed my urethral opening.
I admired his oral expertise, his care in avoiding the
risk of biting me during his climax. I was curious to
see what kind of climax he'd have, a shallow,
shuddering one, or a big blasting orgasm.
	Eric's hard prick seemed to stiffen even more in my
mouth as his crotch muscles contracted, and then
hammered my lips and tongue with a hard throb. I heard
Eric cry out as the first hot jet invaded my mouth,
hitting the back of my throat. His hard glans throbbed
against my tongue and palate as another gush of
life-juice flew into my mouth. I swallowed hard, and
worked my tongue sideways against the top of his glans
to give him more sensations. His cries of joyful agony
filled the air as his prick pulsed and squirted again.
Between cries he was gasping with the frenzy of
orgasm. His cock throbbed and shot again, and suddenly
he reared back, pulling it from my mouth.
	"Too sensitive," he gasped as his smooth slick glans
shot another load against my lips. The next
ejaculation was just a dribble that fell onto the
sheet, followed by a couple more before he stopped
pulsing between my fingers.
	I looked at his face and saw that his eyes were
closed. His breathing slowed as his body relaxed, and
after a minute he opened his eyes.
	"That was very good, Jack. You really made me spunk."
	"Glad it was good for you. I liked feeling your cock
in my mouth while it was throbbing and shooting."
	"Now I've got to finish you off. I know you need it,
and I want to feel you spunk again in my mouth. I knew
you'd be ready again soon." He grasped my prick
between his fingers and inserted his tongue under my
foreskin again, tickling the hole and then reaching
farther into it. His tongue swept around my corona,
and then his skilled fingers drew my foreskin back
fully.
	"Your tip's bigger than mine, and it's got a
different shape," he observed. I thought a moment
before answering, realizing that if I called it a
"helmet" he might not understand, as the German helmet
it resembled wouldn't be designed for another 35
years.
	"Glad you like it. I also like what you're doing," I
replied as his lips encircled the neck of my penis.
Now he began a pumping motion with his lips, sucking
my tip like a lollypop and caressing it with a rapid
back and forth motion. Now his lips were around only
the front of my helmet, framing his tongue-tip which
tickled my hole. He'd let go of my shaft for a moment,
and then withdrew his head to speak:
	"Your skin stays back by itself. It's nice to have
such a big rim, and I like the way it turns up at the
edge." His lips engulfed my glans again and he resumed
the rapid lip-stroking. His fingers encircled my shaft
again, exerting traction to bare the nerve endings in
my corona and groove. A familiar tickle began in my
rim, and I felt my body tensing.
	"Gettin' close," I murmured as his lips and tongue
continued to work their magic on my sensitive flesh. I
felt my prick engorging further, and my glans ached
for release. Now he twisted his head on my prick, and
the tickle turned into a hot tingle, telling me that I
was on the edge. He must have felt my glans engorge in
its final swelling because his lips tightened around
my rim and groove. My yes closed.
	I cried out as my cock-head exploded with sensation.
A sharp contraction in my cock-root shot a torrent of
cream into my urethra, racing towards the end. I felt
his teeth lightly scraping my rim, and this triggered
another spasm. My prick throbbed again as I cried out
helplessly, lost in the free-fall of my orgasm. My tip
became super-sensitive and Eric must have sensed this,
for he withdrew his mouth and just held my skin back
tightly, stretching its nerve endings.
	My pulses slowed, and my torrents became a slow
dribble as my prick emptied itself. Now I was just
moaning softly, still captivated by the mind-numbing
sensations of my orgasm. My breathing slowed and I
began to relax.
	Later, as I opened my eyes, I saw his penis in front
of them, as he was still on his side facing me. It had
softened and shrunk, and the foreskin had slid forward
to wrap itself around his rim. I was aware that my
prick was also softening, and Eric's comment confirmed
this:
	"Hey, your skin stays back even when you're not hard.
It's locked tight behind your tip." This property of
my foreskin was new to me, as I'd had it for only a
few hours. My glans had had a flaring corona for as
long as I'd remembered, but I'd had no idea it would
be high enough to retain the foreskin behind it.
	"Glad you like it," I said. "I like the shape of
yours too. It's different from mine, and that's
exciting."
	"I always like to compare cocks, Jack. I like to
explore another man's cock, note the similarities and
the differences. Some are bigger, some smaller, with
different shapes. The head are different, and so are
the skins. Yours is long and thick, and now that it's
locked back it forms a thick fleshy collar behind your
rim."
	"Yours slips forward unless I hold it back," I
observed.
	"I don't have that big rim you've got," he added. "My
friend Danny's going to be coming by in a while, and
he's got a big rim too. Want to stay? I think it'll be
nice for all of us." I had been in 1880 only a few
hours, and I was being invited to what was obviously
going to be an orgy, and I felt gratified.
	"I'd love to stay. Can I play with his prick too?" I
felt that Eric was not the jealous type.
	"Play all you want, as long as I get first crack." We
lay on the bed silently for a few more minutes until
there was a knock at the door. Eric opened it to admit
another man about our age. Danny was about my height,
with brown hair and eyes like mine, and he began
disrobing as Eric introduced us.
	"See, Jack, Danny's is a lot like yours," he said,
fingering Danny's penis as soon as it came into view.
"His balls hang low like mine, but his cock-head makes
a bulge in his skin the way yours does."
	"Glad to meet you, Danny," I said, my eyes riveted on
the newcomer's prick, which was rapidly lengthening
under Eric's expert touch.
	"Let's see what he's got under that skin," said Eric
as he skillfully slid back Danny's long hood,
stretching it back over the bulbous glans.
	"I've got a lot of cheese. Saved it up specially for
you," Danny said as we watched the white-coated head
emerge from under the long wrinkled hood. The aroma of
Danny's smegma filled the air, and I knew he hadn't
washed for a week. Eric seemed to be excited by this,
and he quickly closed his mouth around the unwashed
glans as Danny sat on the edge of the bed.
	"Eric loves my cheese. Any man's cheese. Did he taste
yours?" Danny asked me as his prick came to full
erection between Eric's lips. The bunched foreskin
stretched out as Eric's fingers pulled down on Danny's
shaft and specks of white cheese came into view as the
wrinkles unfolded.
	"I didn't have as much as you," I answered. My new
foreskin had not accumulated much natural secretions
since it had magically appeared over my glans only
hours ago. I watched Eric licking avidly at Danny's
swollen glans, probing behind the rim, forcing his
tongue between Danny's corona and the thick collar of
foreskin that had locked back behind the flaring
corona to taste every residue of smegma.
	"There's also a little spunk mixed in with it," Danny
remarked to both of us. I did myself a couple of days
ago and that left some under my skin. I was careful
not to wash it off. But I like your cock," Danny said
to me as he reached for mine, which was still limp. "I
think it's a lot like mine. I like the way the skin
bulges. It shows you've got a big head underneath."
His fingers expertly tugged at the end of my nipple,
stretching the foreskin out away from my body, and my
prick began to fill out. As Eric was next to me,
albeit with his head down in Danny's lap, I reached
for his prick and began to stroke the foreskin over
the head.
	"Thanks, Jack," Eric said as he pulled his mouth from
Danny's prick for a moment. I felt his erection
growing, and knew that he still had some steam in him,
as I did.
	"Oh, that feels so nice," I said as Danny's expert
fingers worked on my engorging prick.
	"I can feel that big head swelling inside your skin,"
Danny said. "That rim's really nice." His fingers
rubbed my foreskin over the corona, sending deep
sensations into my prick.
	"Yours is nice too," I replied. "When Eric's finished
with you, I want my share."
	"He'll have cleaned it thoroughly by then," Danny
laughed.
	"I don't care. I want to taste your raw meat against
my tongue," I replied. As I spoke, Danny uncovered my
swollen glans, leaning over to inspect it closely.
	"You've got those little bumps around your rim, just
like mine," he commented. "They make the rim really
sensitive."
	"His rim really is sensitive," Eric said, having
listened to the interchange. "The first time I
unskinned him, I touched his rim with my fingertips,
very lightly, and his seed just flew from his cock."
	"I can touch him now," Danny said as his fingertips
traced the outline of my corona. "He's already spent,
and he won't be as sensitive." His fingertips traveled
down one side of my corona and up the other, barely
pausing to strum my gee-string lightly to make my
prick jump.
	"You made his cock jerk with your touch," Eric said.
"He's still sensitive, although he spent twice in the
last hour."
	"Twice?" Danny asked rhetorically. "He must still
have a lot in his balls, although they're tight."
	"He said his balls are always tight," Eric explained.
"They don't hang loose the way ours do."
	"Yours are getting tight now," Danny replied. "Mine
are too, with the way you've been sucking my tip."
Eric had pulled back hard on Danny's skin, totally
baring the big purple helmet and the deep groove
behind it. Now Danny did the same to mine.
	"See, he's got a thick rim and deep groove behind it
just like you," Eric said. "His skin stays back just
like yours."
	"Even when it's soft?" Danny asked.
	"Even when it's soft," Eric affirmed. "His head's
just like yours."
	"Not quite," Danny disagreed. "He's got a teardrop
shaped hole, not a slit like me."
	"Your slit leaks a lot of juice when you're hot, like
now," Eric said. "Jack's cock is kind of dry. He
doesn't leak much except when he spills his seed. Then
he shoots more than you or me."
	"I want to see that," Danny said as his fingers began
pumping my foreskin up and down my glans, compressing
my corona and the nerve endings in the foreskin and
glans. Meanwhile, Eric had dived again onto Danny's
engorged prick, sucking hard, twisting his head as he
did so. Danny began to moan.
	"Let Eric do you first," I said. "I want you to go
first."
	"All right, Danny muttered as his excitement rose.
His hand clasped my prick more tightly as he became
more excited, and I wondered if I'd come first.
	Eric said nothing, but closed his fist around Danny's
shaft, pumping the foreskin up as his lips receded
along the glans, and then pushing Danny's foreskin
back down as his mouth advanced to engulf to swollen
tip. This relentless double action was turning Danny
on and I knew he'd be discharging soon, before I did.
	"Ooooohhhhhhhhhhh," Danny moaned as his excitement
mounted. I cupped his tightening ball sac with my
other hand as Eric continued to work on his prick, and
Danny's moans grew louder. Now Eric removed his mouth
completely from Danny's hot twitching prick on each
back stroke, momentarily baring the head as he pumped
the long foreskin up to engulf it. Danny's scrotum was
tight in my hand, and I pressed my fingertips into the
tender flesh behind it.
	"I'll be able to feel when he starts to spend," I
said, slipping easily into the jargon of the era. "My
fingers are touching him right behind the balls."
	"I'm going to suck him dry," said Eric. "I've had his
cheese. Now I'll have his spunk." He increased his
pace, and as Eric was speaking I caught a long glimpse
of Danny's darkly engorged cock-head, distended and
shiny with excitement, before he lowered his lips to
resume the double action on his straining prick.
	"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" Danny had begun to grunt loudly
as Eric's pace increased, and I knew he was on the
verge. Even if he tried to relax to maintain the
delicious feeling of anticipation, the wild force of
his orgasm was about to overtake him.
	HAAAHHHH!" Danny cried loudly as I felt a hard pulse
behind his balls. I also felt his balls throb as the
first jet of sperm hurtled up his shaft to empty into
Eric's eager mouth. Eric's Adam's apple bobbed as he
swallowed, and Danny's prick pulsed again as his
helpless cries filled the room. I felt his fist
tighten around my prick, almost painfully, as the hot
sweet agony of orgasm consumed him. His chest heaved,
and he fell back onto the bed, hips bucking
mindlessly, his body thrashing as more jets spewed
from his prick to fill Eric's mouth.
	Danny's cries became shrill and Eric removed his
mouth. He stopped pumping his foreskin as well,
explaining to me:
	"He's too sensitive now. I've got to stop." We both
watched as another hot jet flew from Danny's swollen
purple tip, now a deeper shade than when he'd first
gotten hard. Another jet slammed open the lips of his
slit as Danny grunted again, and then a slow flow of
residue began, pouring gently out of his slit and
running down over Eric's clasping fist. I noticed that
Danny's eyes were shut tightly, and his jaw muscles
clenched.
	Eric let Danny's prick fall back on his stomach as
the orgasm dissipated. The foreskin was still locked
back behind the rim. Danny was still stunned by the
violence of his orgasm, and lay still while he
recovered. His grip on my prick had relaxed, and he'd
stopped pumping my foreskin.
	Several minutes later he opened his eyes and sat up.
He said weakly:
	"That was awful. I just exploded. You got both my
cheese and my spunk, Eric." He reached down to slip
his foreskin deftly over his shrunken glans to protect
it. Then he turned to me and resumed pumping my
foreskin as his mouth descend on my swollen helmet and
trap it between his lips. After a few seconds he
raised his head and said to Eric: "You've already
drunk his sap. It's my turn now."
	"That's a good idea," Eric said. "We'll both work on
Jack and make him spend." As his experienced fingers
pumped my foreskin down, Danny's lips engulfed my
helmet. As Danny withdrew, Eric pumped my foreskin up,
imitating the double action that had just given Danny
a glorious orgasm minutes before. His other hand
cupped my balls.
	"I can feel his sap rising," Eric commented to Danny.
"His shaft's becoming stiffer and I think you can feel
the head swelling and getting harder." Danny grunted
in acknowledgement as he continued to apply a hard
suction to my glans. I felt his tongue-tip probe my
orifice each time his lips encased my head, tickling
it to enhance my sensations. My prick now felt
rock-hard, the swollen helmet aching for release, when
Danny's teeth scraped down the broad upper surface,
sending hot sparks of sensation stabbing deeply into
my swollen flesh. My eyes snapped closed.
	It felt like a lot bolt of electricity, and the
sensation shot down my shaft to my cock-root, which
contracted sharply. The hot quirt of juice flooded my
urethra, shooting towards the tip. The searing jet
rounded the upward curve in my urethra where it
entered the glans and I cried out helplessly, awash in
mind-numbing sensations, as I released my first jet
into Danny's eager mouth.
	Eric's fist pumped my foreskin up as Danny's lips
withdrew and another jet hurtled from my straining tip
just as Danny's mouth descended again to catch it. I
cried out again, filled with the sweet agony of
orgasm, and then Danny's lips withdrew again, followed
closely by my tight foreskin, urged up by Eric's eager
fist. My cock-root contracted again, and I shot just
as Danny's mouth engulfed my glans to swallow my
ejaculation.
	A sudden hyper-sensitivity filled my glans, and I
shrieked at the sensation. Danny removed his mouth,
and Eric stopped pumping. They let my orgasm peter
out, as the contractions inside me became weaker and
my jets slowed to a steady dribble.
	"I felt how Jack's tip got all swollen and hard when
he was about to spill," Danny said to Eric.
	"His shaft was very stiff," Eric replied. "When his
crisis began I felt the pulse behind his balls when he
shot his seed into his tube."
	"I think he had a really exciting time with both of
us working on him," Danny said. "I know having both of
you working on me made my spilling a lot hotter." I
opened my eyes to see them sitting on either side of
me. Eric handed me a towel, as Kleenex hadn't been
invented yet and wouldn't be for decades. We agreed to
meet again next evening and I dressed and left.
	I passed through Central Park, which in 1880 was not
the death-defying experience it was in my own time.
Even in the dark it was not too hard to find the spot
where my survival kit should be, and I began scraping
away the grass and dirt with my fingers. It had been
buried in a very shallow hole, and soon I had it in my
hands. As I'd been cautioned to leave as few traces as
possible, I filled in the hole before heading for my
hotel.
	Inside, I opened to hermetically sealed lid and
inspected the contents. The first item I sought was
the vial of penicillin tablets, and I swallowed two
without water. I might have been exposed to a sexually
transmitted disease because of my contacts with Eric
or Danny, or both. During the 19th Century, syphilis
was a far greater threat than AIDS would ever be,
because it was both incurable and far more easily
transmitted. Many notables, including members of
governments and royal families, had died of "the syph"
over the years. The odds were better than even that
Eric or Danny, or both, had contracted it. Swallowing
penicillin now would stop any infection before it
began.
	The rest of my survival kit contained extra money of
the era, dexedrine tablets, more antibiotics, and a
timetable of places to be on various days, as they
were going to try to bring me back to my own time if
possible.
	Right now, I wasn't sure I wanted to go back. One
reason was that I was really enjoying myself in 1880.
Another was that I might lose my foreskin during the
transition to the 21st Century, a prospect that didn't
appeal to me at all. Now that I'd had sex the natural
way, my previous experiences seemed pale and lifeless.

	Well, I had time to think about it. For the moment, I
was going to return to my hotel and get some
much-needed sleep.

The End