| Anxiety | ||
| I'd worked with Jerry for a couple
of years before we connected. I knew that he was divorced with no children, as I
was, and I gradually became aware of how lonely he was. We were in our middle
30s but he was blond, in contrast to my brown hair. Also, my eyes were brown and
his blue. Apart from these major differences, we were both about six feet tall
and with average builds. One day out of the blue he asked me if I would like to come to his house the following evening, which was a Friday, for dinner. He said that he wasn't a tremendous cook, but could do a steak adequately and make a salad to go with it. I was glad to inform him that I had nothing planned, and that I was grateful for the invitation. I thought it was important to let him know at the outset that I was accepting his invitation enthusiastically, not grudgingly. Jerry lived in a three-bedroom house only two miles from mine. We were both somewhat affluent, and could afford reasonable housing, although not with many luxuries. As he showed me around he pointed out one luxury he had about which I'd only dreamed- a Jacuzzi. It was mainly inertia that had prevented me from buying one so far. Jerry seemed a little nervous as he showed me around his house, and was eager to offer me a drink. I thought he really needed a drink for himself, much more than I did. I sat with him in his kitchen as he prepared the steaks and the salads. He'd bought Porterhouse Steaks, and prepared them by sprinkling a little garlic power on both sides. The salads were red leaf lettuce with his home-made salad dressing, which he assured me was better than any commercial brand. As he had a gas grill it didn't need an hour's warming to be ready, and we took our glasses of wine outside to the patio. As it was a balmy summer evening, Jerry told me we'd be eating outside, and this was very appealing. "How do you like your steak?" he asked. "Medium rare will do just fine," I replied. "Great," he said. "That's the way I like mine too, and it will make it easier for me." The wine seemed to relax him as he grilled the steaks, and when they were done we ate with gusto. Jerry had brought the wine bottle outside with us, and he refilled our glasses several times. By the end of the meal we were both relaxed and glowing. I helped him carry the dishes and flatware back into the kitchen, where he put them into the dishwasher. Then he took a full bottle of wine out with us as we returned to the patio. "I think I'll turn on the Jacuzzi," he said. He flipped a switch on the side of the hot tub and I heard the pump begin to hum. "It would be nice to get into the hot tub for a few minutes while we're digesting," he added. "I'd like that a lot," I said to encourage him. "I didn't bring a bathing suit, though," I added, waiting anxiously for his reply. I was hoping he wouldn't offer to lend me one. "The walls around my yard are seven feet high, and the neighbors can't see in," he said. "I always go in bare-ass. I hope that's okay with you." "That's just fine with me," I replied, eager to let him know my enthusiasm. "I really don't like bathing suits anyway. They're too confining. If I wear a roomy loose one, it falls off." Jerry began to undress, and I quickly followed. His complexion was much lighter than mine, to match his blond hair and blue eyes. We unashamedly stared at each other as we removed our clothing, and when he dropped his boxers I noted that his penis was much like mine, small with a long foreskin nipple dangling ahead of the glands. We were both growers, not showers, but I noticed his glands bulge was much smaller than mine, giving his penis the look of a tapering worm. He pulled anxiously at his foreskin as he stepped into the hot tub. "My skin's a little tight," he said to me. "Lucky you've still got it," I said. "Lots of guys our age don't." I sat down next to him in the bubbling water. "I almost lost it several times," he confessed. "The school doctor wanted me to get circumcised because my skin's so long and tight, but my father said no. My father wasn't cut and he wouldn't let any son of his get the chop." "That's how my father felt too," I said. "He taught me how to skin it back to wash, and I never had any problems." I felt my prick swelling because of our conversation, but the bubbles kept me from seeing if it had had the same effect on him. "I was never able to skin it back," he confessed, his face flushing. I'd known several guys with tight foreskins that prevented skinning back with an erection when the glands was bloated, but they were able to retract their hoods for washing when they were limp. I wondered if this was his problem. "Can you skin it back without a hard-on?" I asked. "No, not even then, and I certainly can't skin it back now." He lifted his hips so that his prick broke the surface of the water, and I saw that it was fully erect and about six inches long, like mine. "Does it hurt when you try?" I prompted. He grasped the end of his prick with the fingers of his right hand and stretched the skin back. Part of the foreskin nipple had already expanded over his glands, but a tight ring at the end would not yield, and kept him from uncovering his tip. It formed a tight pucker that made it impossible even to see his slit. I also noted that, even erect, his glands didn't seem very big. It certainly didn't make the conspicuous bulge in the covering skin that mine did. "Does yours go back all the way?" he asked. In reply I lifted my hips and held my rock-hard prick upright for him to see. He drew in his breath sharply and asked: "Can I see how it skins back?" I nodded and he grasped my prick over the glands with thumb and index finger and began drawing my foreskin down, watching fascinated as the tight ring at the end of my foreskin stretched gradually as it slid back over the swollen helmet. "How do you wash inside?" I asked. "I've got one of those little baby enemas," he answered as he slowly slid my foreskin up and down. "I fill it with warm water and stick the nozzle inside my skin. It just goes in, and I flush my skin out that way." He continued to stroke my hood, and now I decided to reciprocate. I grasped his covering skin around the glands and began to work it up and down, being careful not to stretch it back too far as I knew this would cause him distress. "Is this how you jack off?" I asked. "Oh, yes," he replied. "I found out early that I didn't have to have the skin back to masturbate. I put my thumb on top to massage the rim through the skin and two fingers underneath to work on my hot spot. That always worked, although I wasn't able to shoot a stream like other guys could. My juice stayed trapped inside and just leaked out of my skin drop by drop." "How did your wife react to this?" I asked, knowing that I was being very forward in my questioning but also sensing that he wanted to tell me. "She was sort of surprised that I wasn't circumcised, since her father, brothers, and previous boyfriends had all been cut. Once she got used to the idea, she didn't make much of it. She didn't even know that the skin was supposed to go back off the head. I never had any problem with sex. I went inside her and after a few minutes I came, just like anyone else would." We continued to jack each other as he spoke. "Did you ask a doctor about this?" I continued probing. Now his anxiety came out clearly as he replied. "Yes, a couple of years ago. He told me I needed circumcision and referred me to an urologist. The urologist told me I should have been circumcised years ago. He wanted to do it right then in his office with a local anesthetic. He said it would take only 15 minutes and I almost said yes. Then I asked him if he could just cut off the tight ring at the end, and he said that doing that would just leave me with skin over the head. He wanted to cut all my skin off. I didn't like his attitude and told him I wanted time to think about it. I never went back." "That was pretty scary, I guess," I commiserated. "Scared isn't the half of it," he expanded, fear clearly written on his face. "Come on, let's go inside and dry off." We rose from the hot tub and went into the house, where he handed me a towel in the bathroom. We were both still hard, with no sign of our erections subsiding, and I suspected we'd have to relieve ourselves or, more desirably, each other to make them go down. "This is what I use for cleaning," he said as he pulled a baby enema from the medicine cabinet. It was a rubber bulb with a plastic nozzle about two inches long attached. He ran warm water into the sink and filled the bulb. Then he demonstrated it for me by slipping the nozzle into the end of his foreskin and pushing it in until I saw the outline of the nozzle at the back of his glands. When he squeezed the bulb his hood ballooned out and a stream of water gushed from the end of his foreskin past the nozzle. "That seems to work well," I commented reassuringly. "How do you urinate? Does your foreskin balloon like that when you pee?" "Most of the time it does, and the urine splatters when it comes out. That's why I sit down to pee, except when I'm in the shower. Then I have to squeeze my dick to get the last drops out and use toilet paper to blot it. Sometimes some stays trapped inside my skin anyway. That's why I wrap it in toilet paper after I finish, avoiding wetting my pants." "I guess you've got it worked down to a system," I said as he removed the nozzle from his foreskin and squeezed his prick to work out the last few drops, and then blotted the end with his towel. "Your skin works nice," he said, looking down at my prick, with the foreskin bunched up in a thick fleshy ring behind the rim. "You've got a big head on it, too. Your skin stretches over it to go back, even when you're hard like you are now." His fingers closed again around my prick and he continued to stroke my foreskin. "You'll make me pop if you do that," I warned. "I'd like to see that," he said frankly, looking into my eyes. I hugged him to me, and our pricks came up between our abdomens touching each other. "I know I'd enjoy it, but on one condition. I get to do you too." He smiled as I spoke, and I knew that we were reading off the same page at that moment. He led me into the bedroom, where we sat side by side on the edge of his queen-sized bed. He'd brought a towel with him from the bathroom, and now he spread it over our laps. "I like that big head," he said, covering and uncovering my helmet as he continued to stroke me. "I wish mine was that big. The urologist told me that if I was circumcised the head would grow out." "I doubt that," I said as I continued to jiggle his foreskin, thumb on top of the glands and two fingers pressed into the hot spot underneath. "I think that size is genetic." "You're probably right," he agreed. "I've seen cut guys with small heads, and they were cut when they were born. Maybe it's just that removing the skin makes the neck of the shaft thinner, and that makes the rim stand out more." "I've seen the same thing," I said as I continued to stroke him, picking up my pace slightly. His breathing became more rapid, and I knew that the combination of stroking and talking about our pricks were combining to drive him toward the brink. "Gee, what you're doing to me, it's going to make me come in a second." I saw his stomach muscles tighten as he spoke, and I stroked him faster to bring him to a glorious finish. He began to grunt with excitement, and his hand dropped from my prick as he became wrapped up in the sensations in his body. I continued to send thrills down his prick with my stroking, and I cupped his scrotum with my other hand. His balls had tightened up against his body, and now he put an arm around my shoulder for support as his entire frame began to tremble. I knew he was close and I maintained the rhythm. Through his foreskin I felt his tip become harder as it swelled slightly, and I knew he was right on the edge. I decided to twist his foreskin with each stroke, knowing this would enhance his sensation. The first twist triggered his orgasm, and he cried out as his prick pulsed between my fingers. His prick pulsed again, his foreskin ballooned, and now drops of thick cream began oozing from the pucker at the end of his prick. His body shuddered as he cried out again, and more cream oozed from his foreskin, running down the shaft and my fingers until it soaked into the towel. His foreskin was swollen with the trapped semen, and the ooze became a flow. I felt his prick pulse several more times as he sobbed in joyful agony, and then he was still. I stopped jiggling his foreskin and let him lie back to recover. His eyes were closed in restful relaxation, and he stayed that way for a couple of minutes. When he opened his eyes he said: "Wow! That was awesome! You really made me come hard." Now he sat up and began squeezing the residue from his foreskin, catching the cream in the towel. "I've done this with guys before but it was never this good." "What happened those times?" I was curious. "A couple of guys wouldn't even touch my dick when they saw I was uncut. They thought uncut dicks were dirty. A couple of others were too rough. They pulled back too hard and it hurt. I had to tell them to take it easy. It's funny though. One of those guys was uncut, but his skin slid back easily. He didn't realize how tight mine was. Once I told him, he was very gentle." "I see how that could be a problem," I said. "That was one reason I almost let the urologist circumcise me. I thought that if I was cut, all my problems would disappear." "I'm glad you changed your mind. You're better off with your skin intact." He gazed at me, pain in his eyes. "Do you mean I'll have to go through the rest of my life like this?" he asked with an agonized expression on his face. "No, I don't mean that," I said firmly. There's a way to fix it. A friend of mine had a similar problem, though not as bad as yours, and he told me how he took care of it. You really want to keep your foreskin because otherwise the tip would dry out and become less sensitive." "Your dick's ready for action," he said as his fingers closed around my prick. Let me take care of that for you, and we can talk about the rest after. Anyway, I like to work with a dick where the skin goes back all the way." He pulled my foreskin up all the way, stretching it until it enclosed the helmet and form a thick pucker. Then he slid it all the way down until it bumped over my high flaring rim and snapped down into the deep groove behind it, where it formed a thick fleshy ring. "That's fine, that's great," I murmured, relishing the thrill of having my foreskin and glands stimulated. "It goes back a little more," I coached him. `You can get it back behind the neck." Jerry pulled down carefully, slowly stretching the skin back to bare the neck of my shaft. "That makes the head really stand out," he observed. "You've got a really big head, and the way the rim flares out looks so sexy." Now he pulled up again, giving my foreskin a twist that stretched the nerve endings and sent a thrill down my shaft. "Those long strokes feel wonderful," I whispered as he continued to pleasure my prick. Now he cupped my tightening scrotum with his other hand. "I wish my skin let me have those long strokes," he said wistfully. "I'd like to be able to do the same think with my dick like I'm doing to you." "Or maybe have me do it for you," I suggested as he continued to send thrills down my shaft. "Your head's gotten a little bit bigger, and it feels harder now through the skin," he said. Jerry stared intently at my prick as he continued to work my foreskin in long strokes that completely capped my glands on the way up and bared it on the down-stroke. "I wonder if mine gets the same way?" "I'm sure it does," I said. "Also, you can't see it but I'm sure the head gets darker too." "I can see yours got darker purple," he said. "You're also leaking fluid." He gave my foreskin a couple of quick twists as he held it mid-way up my helmet, and I felt a stab of sensation in my rim. "I'm close," I murmured as I felt my stomach muscles tighten. Although I was trying to stay relaxed my sensations kept mounting and I knew he'd have my load any moment. I felt myself withdrawing from the world outside my body, and my eyes closed. I was now totally focused on the delicious sensations in my prick. Jerry snapped my foreskin up and down over the rim for a change of pace, and then brought it all the way up. I felt the familiar tickle begin in my engorged glands. As he pulled it down again, he gave it a couple of quick twists right on my swollen corona, and this triggered my storm. Sharp sensations stabbed deeply into my helmet, and I cried out as I felt my prick root contract and expel the first jet into my tube. It felt like hot lava, burning its way up my prick, and my entire groin was throbbing with the force of the ejaculation. Another spasm gripped me, sending the second hot jet rushing up my prick. Jerry snapped my foreskin all the way back, stretching my gee-string, and the third torrent gushed up my throbbing penis to erupt into the air. I was crying out mindlessly, lost in waves of sensation that put my conscious mind on "HOLD" and the thrills of sweet agony flooded my body. I felt my prick throb again as another load was extruded from my throbbing helmet. Weaker spasms followed, until I was drained and exhausted. I flopped back onto the bed and sank into a stupor. Minutes later I opened my eyes to see Jerry smiling down at me. He bent over to kiss me tenderly on the lips and then said: "That was a thrill for me. I was watching every load shooting from that big head of yours. You know I've never seen myself shoot, but watching you made up for it. I kept your skin partly peeled back so I could see the show." "It was great for me, too," I said. Now I pulled him down to me and kissed him on the lips, both cheeks, and nibbled his ears. "Thanks a lot," he said. I sat up and began wiping my softening prick. It had lost its extreme sensitivity and I was able to slide my foreskin back to wipe the glands and inside, and then slid it up to cover the helmet while I wiped the outside. "What can you tell me about how your friend solved his problem?" Jerry asked eagerly. "Well, his foreskin was tight, although not as much as yours. He drove down to Mexico and bought some betamethasone cream, a steroid that loosens tight foreskins, and he used it for a couple of months. He also used some spacers inside his foreskin to stretch it gradually. The steroid cream and the spacers made it happen a lot quicker than using only one or the other." "What kind of spacers?" he asked. "What are they?" "He made them from soft plastic tubing. He cut them to about half and inch in length, using several different diameters. He put the narrowest one in first and held it in place with a piece of tape across the opening. When his foreskin had stretched enough to accept the next largest size he used that." "Can you get me some or tell me where I can buy it?" Jerry asked me, a note of anxiety in his voice. "No problem," I said reassuringly. "My friend gave me the spacers and what he had left of the cream in case I encountered someone else with a similar problem." "I wonder why the urologist didn't tell me about this?" he murmured. "The urologist gets a bigger fee from operating than for writing a prescription. Anyway, he was probably circumcised himself, and thought that was the way to go." "I can't wait to try this stuff," Jerry said fervently. "Well, if you want to start right now, let's go over to my house. You can rub in some of that cream and then put in the spacer, and stay the night." "Okay," he said, "but let's go shower first." He led me into the bathroom and soon we were standing under a spray of hot water. As the water ran down the front of his body I saw his foreskin begin to balloon. "Does this happen every time?" I asked. "Almost every time, unless I've just peed before getting into the shower." Now I felt the urge and I pinched the end of my foreskin, trapping the flow and making my hood balloon to match Jerry's. "I've done this since I was a kid," I explained. It feels good, and when I was a kid my foreskin was tight, and this helped stretch it. Also, it flushed out my helmet and foreskin." I let go, and the urine gushed from the end of my foreskin. Jerry pinched his foreskin's nipple shut, until his hood swelled so much that it became uncomfortable. Then he let go, and a thick yellow gush poured from the nipple. "Do it again," I urged. "Don't hurt yourself, but you'll be stretching the foreskin a bit every time." By this time, though, he'd drained his bladder, as I had, and we rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. Jerry filled his baby enema with warm water and flushed out his foreskin. "I have to get rid of any trapped urine or it'll get into the towel when I dry myself," he explained. We dried ourselves and soon we were in my car heading for my house. Once inside I led him to the bedroom, where we peeled off our clothes. I took a box from the bottom drawer of my bedside table. Inside were the cream and spacers. "Now put some of this cream on your foreskin, and try to work some inside too. Maybe if you use your pinky you'll get some in." Jerry massaged some cream into his foreskin, and then pushed some inside the pucker with the tip of his little finger. "Now let's see what size spacer you can start with," I said. "Here, take this one. It's about ¼", the same size as the nozzle on the baby enema. Put a little cream on it for lubrication and see if you can work it in." He did as I'd suggested and soon had the short length of plastic tube inside the orifice of his foreskin. I went to the bathroom for some tape and he used it to hold the spacer in place inside his hood. "I guess I'll have to take his off every time I pee," he said. "You can cut a hole in the tape to let out the urine," I suggested. "It'll still be messy, but you won't have to replace the tape every time, and it'll keep the spacer from falling into the toilet. I've got a hole punch you can use." "Thanks, Jack. You're really sweet to help me out like this." I hugged him and planted a dry kiss on his lips, and then we got into bed. "Sleep tight," he said as I turned out the light. During the night I was awakened by Jerry getting out of bed to go to the bathroom. I followed him in and saw he was struggling with the tape. "I've got to pee. I guess I have to remove the tape and the spacer," he said. "Do that, and throw away the tape," I suggested. "I'll get you the hole punch and a fresh piece of tape so you won't have that problem anymore." I retrieved the items from the bedroom and returned to the bathroom to see Jerry milking down his prick and foreskin, squeezing out the last drops and blotting his foreskin pucker with toilet paper. As he reinserted the spacer I punched a hole in the middle of a piece of tape and handed it to him. He placed it across the foreskin pucker with the hole aligned with the one in the spacer. "I guess that's going to do it for me," he said gratefully. Thanks a lot for your help." We went back to sleep. In the morning Jerry and I had erections from full bladders. He showed me his erection, with the glands straining against the spacer inside his foreskin. "You don't want to stay that way very long," I advised him. "If you have that spacer pressing against your tip for more than a few minutes it could leave an indentation, or possibly even cut it if the spacer has a sharp edge." We went into the bathroom, where he sat down and let his urine flow. As his bladder emptied his erection relaxed. He milked his penis, took several sheets of toilet paper, and blotted the opening in the spacer. After he got up I sat down to pee as well. "Why do you sit down to pee?" he asked. "It's easier that way. Even though I skin back to avoid splattering, the stream sometimes splashes, and since I have to clean this bathroom it's better to avoid problems." I finished, milked my prick to force out the residue, and we went into the kitchen where I fixed coffee. "How often do I have to change the tape?" he asked. "When you find it coming loose," I replied. "You don't want to remove the tape while it's still very sticky. Ripping the adhesive will irritate the skin. I'd guess every day or two." "I guess you're right," he said. "It's easy to tear the delicate skin." I poured the coffee, and we drank it enthusiastically. It turned out we were both coffee hounds. "I guess I'd better apply more cream on the outside, anyway. I can't reach inside because of the tape and spacer." As he spoke his prick began to expand and I felt a fullness in mine that told me another erection was beginning. "I think we're both going to need relief unless we want to stay hard all day," I suggested. "That means taking the tape off," he replied, and began to peel the tape gently from his foreskin. The spacer slipped out into his palm. We went into the bedroom, where we sat next to each other. I grabbed a wad of tissues from the bedside table and placed it in his hand. "Here, hold on to that," I said. "I'm going to do something different this time." I placed one palm on top of the end of his rigid prick and the other underneath, and began to move them in opposite directions. "That feels good," he said. "It's more intense than what you did last night." "This not only rubs the foreskin against the head, but it stretches it, including the gee-string. The combination can make you pop in a minute." I picked up the pace and watched him carefully. "Your balls are coming up against your body," I observed. "You're getting hot pretty fast." "I can feel it, Jack. That rolling action's really turning me on." I steadily rolled his foreskin between my palms, feeling the hardness underneath as his excitement mounted. His breathing increased and became louder, a series of soft grunts that announced his mounting passion. "Feel a tingle yet?" I asked. I noted that his face was flushed. "Yeah, Jack, my tip's tingling all over." His stomach muscles contracted visibly and his grunts became louder. I knew he was within seconds of creaming. HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" he grunted as his body let go. I felt a powerful throb between my palms as his prick jerked with the first salvo. He grunted again, and I felt another heavy throb. A drop of white cream filled the pucker at the end of his tightly stretched foreskin. He grunted again and semen began oozing from his prick. I felt a sense of profound satisfaction as his prick throbbed again, and a thin stream of cream ran down his prick onto my hands. "Enough! Enough! Enough!" he cried out, and I quickly removed my hands. I knew what was happening. His prick had become super-sensitive during orgasm, and further stimulation would only cause him distress. I took the tissues from his hand and wrapped them around the end of his streaming penis as he continued to discharge. He fell back on the bed and continued to grunt for several more seconds as more spasms wracked his body. I let him lie there, flat on his back and with tissues wrapped around his prick, which began to subside. I didn't want to touch it, as it would remain overly sensitive for a couple of minutes. I noticed that he was staring blankly at the ceiling, dazed by the intensity of his biological storm. "That really did it for me," he said when he was finally able to speak. "It always does, Jerry.” Twisting the foreskin really hits you hard." "I'd like to do it to you," he said. "Okay, but first let's wipe you down and get the cream out of your foreskin." He milked his urethra and then his foreskin, to drain the residue. Most of his ejaculations had remained trapped inside his hood, and several big gushes poured from his foreskin as he worked on it. Now I lay back on the bed as he took up a position beside me. I had a handful of tissues in my hand, as I knew he'd drain a massive load from me. He placed his palms on my prick as I'd done to his, and began the rolling motion. I was already primed from having made him come, and Jerry's strokes had an immediate effect. I was already very hard and now my balls tightened against my body. I felt a light tickle in my glands as Jerry twisted my foreskin against it. This meant that I was already on the plateau. "I want to watch you come," he whispered. "I want to see that juice fly up in the air because your skin's not tight like mine." "It will," I said. The tickle increased and I felt an ache start in my helmet, signaling an urgent need for release. The tickle and the ache now combined into a tingle, and I felt myself withdrawing from the world outside my body as my body tightened up in excitement. My eyes closed, and now I was totally focused on the pleasurable sensations in my groin. The tingling feeling increased and then exploded, making me cry out in agonized joy as my cock-root contracted to expel a stream of cream. The lava-like liquid burned its way up my prick and slammed through the lips of my slit. Another hot spasm gripped me and I shot again, crying out in joyful agony. A third hard contraction deep inside me consumed me with sensations, and I now was moaning mindlessly, caught up in the free-fall of my orgasm. Jerry's hands gave my foreskin one last twist to bring forth another torrent of cream, and then released my prick to fall back and throb on my abdomen. Weaker spasms followed, draining me, and then my prick stopped throbbing. I lay still, too weak to speak, move, or even open my eyes. A heavy languor crept over me, and my body relaxed. "You really shot," I heard him say after a couple of minutes. "When I felt your dick throb the first time, I moved my hands down so your skin cleared the hole. I saw each jet shoot out of it. Some fell on my hands and the rest on your stomach." Now he leaned over and kissed me delicately, tenderly, on the lips. "That was terrific," I complimented him. You really made me blow my load." I struggled to my feet and went into the bathroom. We got under the shower to clean ourselves, paying special attention to semen in our pubic hairs. After we'd dried ourselves, Jerry went into the bedroom to bring back the box with the spacers. "First squirt some cream inside your hood and work it in. Then let's try the next size up," I suggested. Jerry put the spout of the steroid tube into his foreskin pucker and squeezed some into the cavity. He massaged it in carefully and thoroughly, which would have brought an immediate erection if he had not just been drained. Now he spread a film of cream on the outside of his foreskin and let it dry. "This might fit you now," I said as I handed him a spacer, larger than the one he'd used the previous night. He spread some steroid cream on it for lubricant and eased it into the opening in his foreskin. We watched the delicate tissues spread as he worked it in, and then he had it flush with the outside of his pucker. I cut off two inches of tape and punched a hole in the center. Jerry took it from me and aligned it carefully with the spacer's cavity, pressing the ends against his foreskin on both sides. As it was Saturday, we did not have to go to work, and we spent the day touring the museums downtown. That evening we returned to my house, where I prepared lamb chops and salad. We were both tired from the day's activities and we went to bed early. Sunday morning we awoke with erections, and Jerry's was so stiff he could not bend it down enough as he sat on the toilet. "Stand up and do it in the sink," I suggested. "I often do that. It saves on water, too." We stood side by side, my arm around his waist, as we waited for our streams to start. I was skinned back, while Jerry still had the spacer and tape at the end of his penis. Our streams began with dribbles, but once started they increased to bold streams. After we'd finished we milked our pricks and Jerry took special care to dab the end of his spacer with toilet paper. Our erections went down now that we'd drained ourselves. "I never peed like that that I can remember," he said. "What, you mean in the sink?" I responded. "No, I mean with such a thick stream. Before, it squeezed through my skin and splattered. Just now it came out in a solid stream, just like yours." "Well, your foreskin's not in the way to impede it," I said. "You didn't balloon either, the way you did before." "That's right. This is a real improvement. I really owe you a lot, Jack." "You don't owe me anything, Jerry. It's my pleasure to help you. I want to see you with a retractable foreskin, instead of getting circumcised." Jerry hugged me tightly and kissed me on the lips, and then my chin, before kissing me on both cheeks. The warmth of his body against mine made my prick start to swell. "We're both getting aroused," he whispered. "Do you think I should take the tape off?" "No, keep it on. Let's have breakfast. We can do something tonight, and the tape will be easier to take off." We went into the kitchen and I fixed a heavy breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast. It wasn't very imaginative, but it was satisfying. "I guess it's okay if I stay here tonight, right?" he asked. "Of course you can, Jerry. Anyway, I live closer to work than you do. We have to work tomorrow." "Then I'd better go home and get some stuff this morning," he said. "Maybe I could ride along with you and we could go to a movie afterward," I suggested. "That's a great idea," he replied. "You ought to keep that box with the spacers, tape, and the hole punch in your car," I suggested. "That way, whether you're home or here, you'd always have it handy." "That's a good idea too," he replied. We went into the bathroom to get ready, and half an hour later we were on our way. At his house Jerry checked his mailbox, gathered a couple of changes of clothing, and placed them in his Lexus. We walked through a park for exercise, took lunch downtown, and went to a movie. Returning to my house, we went into the kitchen where I prepared fried catfish and salad. We ate with gusto, mainly because we were enjoying each other's company. "I didn't really care for that movie," he said. "Yes, bad choice. The movie stunk, but at least we were together. That's the important part." Jerry reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "I like us being together," he said. "It's really a nice feeling." "I just hope we feel the same way five years from now," he countered, a flash of anxiety showing in his face. "We'll have to wait and see." We finished our meal and went into the living room with our wine glasses. I put on a DVD with European guys jacking singly and doing each other, because I was sure he'd enjoy it. After watching for a couple of minutes he spoke: "I like European porn. At least we know the guys aren't cut like most Americans." "That goes for me too," I said. "I can identify with uncut guys. If I watch cut guys, whatever they're doing, I can't relate to them." We were both becoming aroused, and as we watched we began undressing. Jerry carefully peeled the tape from his foreskin and allowed the spacer to drop into his hand. I went to get a towel that I spread on the couch under us. Our hands went naturally to each other's pricks. "I like to feel you touching me," Jerry murmured. "I like the feel of your warm fingers around my prick," I answered. I was slowly jiggling Jerry's foreskin as he slowly slid mine up and down the helmet. "That was really hot when you twisted my skin between your palms," he said. As he spoke he gave my foreskin a slight twist as he drew it down. "Your foreskin feels a bit looser, Jerry. I think I can uncover a little more of the head than a couple of days ago." I leaned over and was able to see the slit in his glands clearly through the opening in his foreskin. "I don't think it's your imagination, either," he said. "I can feel it sliding down a little more than before. Also, it just doesn't feel so tight." "I'm just thinking what a thrill it's going to be when you can skin it back all the way and see the head for the first time," I said. "Yeah, it's hard to believe that I've never seen the head of my cock. I can strip your skin back to see your helmet, but mine stays hidden. Everybody I know has seen his dick-head, and the cut guys have it always sticking out." "Cut guys, yes, but I certainly wouldn't want to be like them," I said. "I feel sorry for them. Most don't know what they're missing." "With me it was almost the opposite," he said. "I felt so bad about my tight skin for such a long time I almost got cut a couple of years ago. Lucky I didn't, and then I met you." He turned and hugged me, kissing me on the cheeks and then the lips. I hugged him back tenderly, enjoying the bond that was growing between us. "This hugging, this feeling I've got for you," I said hesitantly. "It's really turning me on. We've barely started and I feel I'm ready to come." I was very aroused, physically as well as emotionally, and the two combined to drive me close to the brink. The touch of his fingers made my prick tingle, and I knew that I'd lose my load in seconds. "If it happens, let it," he urged. "I'd love to feel your cock shoot in my hand, watch it spurt its juice." His pace picked up on my prick, and I felt my excitement rising. The warmth of emotion fueled my fire, and I felt my body tense involuntarily. Although the porn was playing, I was almost unaware of it because all my attention was on what Jerry was doing to my prick. I was holding on to his, clasping it in my hand, but not stroking him. "Just holding on to your prick makes me more excited," I murmured. Jerry picked up his pace, driving me toward the brink faster. "I like the feeling of your hand around my cock," he said. "Even if you're not stroking me, it makes me feel warm and secure." His words made me realize how closely we were bonding, and how our lives were becoming intertwined. It felt as if the emotions poured down my body to my crotch, because now I felt a very warm feeling in my prick. He pumped my foreskin more rapidly, and I felt my helmet go into its final swelling. "Your tip feels harder, and I can see it just got darker," he said. A tickle started in my rim as Jerry bumped my ring of thick foreskin against and over it, inflaming the many nerve endings. My eyes closed and my breathing became heavy. "Your balls are really tight against your body," he told me. Now I felt the heavy tingling begin in my glands, spreading from the front dome down to the corona, and I knew I'd blast off any second. I was grunting hard, anticipating the moment of release. "HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" I grunted as the hot tingle in my glands exploded and shot down to the root of my shaft, triggering the first release. Hot lava spurted into my tube, rushing upward and making me cry out in sweet agony. The throbbing in my prick shook my entire body as I was overwhelmed by hot sensations. Another heavy throb shook me, and I felt the second torrent gush up my shaft to erupt from the orifice at the end of my glands. Jerry yanked my foreskin fully down and I felt his lips envelop my throbbing helmet, drawing the sap from it. He lip-locked my corona as his tongue-tip drilled into my orifice, lapping up the cream. I cried out again as another wave of sensation shot through me and a third jet erupted from my prick into his mouth. I was helpless in his hands, caught up totally in the hot frenzy of my orgasm. Several more jets exploded from my throbbing prick before my orgasm faded and my erection began to relax. I slumped, stunned by the fury of my biological storm. Unable to speak, I was very still for several minutes. Now I realized that I was still holding Jerry's prick, and that it felt very hot and hard in my fingers. I roused myself and put my mouth over the end of his foreskin-covered glands, probing the tight orifice with my tongue. Jerry's mouth was still on my prick, sucking the residue, and I saw that very little had spilled on me or the towel. Jerry tasted salty from the copious amount of lubricant he was secreting, and I swallowed it thirstily and gratefully. I pushed my tongue into his foreskin ring as deeply as it would go, and was gratified when the tip touched the hard surface of his glands. I heard Jerry gasp and felt his prick throb. I wiggled my tongue-tip against the front of his hot hard head and a moment later heard him cry out as he plunged into the frenzy of orgasm. The first torrent of cream gushed from his slit, past my tongue, and into my mouth. A moment later he yelped again as a second jet poured from his slit. I sucked hard, swallowing to keep up with him, as his prick throbbed again, release another hot jet. His hips bucked as he thrust his throbbing prick upward deeper into my mouth and I savored the salty taste and chlorine odor of his juice. Jerry was moaning and grunting as the sensations swept over his body, and I felt the throbbing in his hot hard prick against my tongue and lips. Several more gushes erupted from his slit, which I avidly sucked down, and finally he was still. I carefully sucked the rest of his semen, glad that I had not spilled a drop. Then I let his softening prick flop down and got up to turn off the TV and DVD player. "That was awesome," he murmured as I returned to the couch and gathered him in my arms. "I had the tip of my tongue inside your foreskin," I said. "A couple of days ago it was so tight I wouldn't have been able to do that." "So we're making progress," he concluded. "That's right, Jerry. It's working. Let's make sure you keep at it." I helped him up and we went into the bathroom to shower. Under the hot water we both got the urge to pee, and we held the tips of our foreskins shut to make them balloon out. "Keep doing this every time you shower and it'll help stretch the skin," I advised him. "I don't think you have any adhesions but if you do, this breaks them loose." We rinsed ourselves and then we dried each other with the towel that I'd brought back from the living room. Jerry had brought the baby enema with him and I watched as he flushed the inside of his foreskin with it. Then he selected the spacer, which was about 3/8" in diameter, lubricated it with steroid cream, and slid it inside his foreskin nipple. I punched a hole in a piece of tape and he placed it across the end of his foreskin to retain the spacer. We were both weary, and we crept languidly into bed, falling asleep in each other's arm. That week was a busy one at work, and I had to go out of town. The following week Jerry had to visit a vendor in another city. We had little time for contact, but on these occasions Jerry informed me that he'd been able to insert a ½" diameter spacer to stretch the front ring of his foreskin. He seemed very pleased with the way he'd been able to loosen his foreskin. The following Friday evening he came to my place for dinner. I hadn't wanted to spend time cooking, so I got some Chinese take-out. We were both eager to discuss his progress, so we undressed before sitting down to eat. I saw that the opening of his foreskin was stretched out over a spacer considerably larger than the one I'd seen him insert two weeks before. "What size spacer are you using?" I asked. "Well, this morning I tried a 5/8" spacer and it slid in, although it was a little tight. It's not uncomfortable, though. That cream's really helping stretch the skin." "I guess you're keeping the spacers in 24 hours a day, right?" I asked. "Absolutely, Jack. I try to keep them in as long as possible. Once I left it in for three days straight." "That's good," I counseled. "Soon you'll be able to take a bigger one." "This morning I was able to get the skin back halfway over the head before I put my spacer in. I got a good look at my slit for the first time." "That's good news," I said. "That gives you a tangible way to measure progress." We finished eating and, too tired to do anything else, went to bed for an exhausted sleep. Saturday morning we awoke with the usual hard-ons, and we went into the bathroom. I watched as Jerry stood at the sink, trying to relax his sphincter enough to begin the flow. At first he dribbled, but then a strong stream gushed from the spacer. By this time I was also able to pee, as my erection had subsided enough, and I skinned back and let go. We watched our streams mixing as they ran around the bowl and down the drain. I then made coffee, and we sat in the kitchen talking. "My tip's never been uncovered, and I found it's very sensitive," he told me. "Yesterday morning when I pulled the skin back I touched the tip with my finger, and man, it's really tender." "Mine was that way too, when I first got my foreskin back as a boy. I couldn't stand to have anything touch it. That tenderness faded over time, though." "I wonder what sort of a tip I'll have," he mused. "I can see that you're got a big helmet type, but I think mine's going to be smaller." "It doesn't really matter," I advised. "As long as it works and you can get pleasure from your penis, the exact shape isn't important." Our conversation was getting us aroused, and we both noticed the swelling in our pricks. "I haven't had an orgasm in two weeks," he said. "Did you?" "No, I haven't either," I admitted. "I think we both really need relief." "I know we won't need porn to get us going," he said. "I know you're right," I said as I headed for the bedroom. We sat on the bed while he worked the tape loose. The front of his glands was clearly visible through the spacer. He removed it and then proceeded to demonstrate how much foreskin movement he had. He pulled his foreskin fully forward to form a pucker, and then began sliding it back. The edges of the pucker parted and his slit became visible. Then he pulled it back farther and his foreskin ring widened to a dime-sized opening. We were both rock-hard, and I wondered how much more of his glands he'd be able to bare if he were soft. Almost reading my thoughts, he spoke: "Once it gets soft I'll try again. I might be able to skin it back farther." I closed my fingers around his erection and began sliding his foreskin up and down as far as it would go. "That's something I never felt before," he said. "When you slide my skin, that tight ring really grips the tip, and it feels wonderful." "I think that's because it's compressing the nerve endings in your tip," I suggested. Jerry now closed his fingers around my erection, pumping my foreskin slowly. "That was heavenly when you put your mouth on it last time," he said as he leaned over. He pulled my foreskin all the way down to bare the head and groove, and his lips locked into the neck of my penis. I shuffled myself so that we were in a "69" position, and wrapped my lips around his foreskin-covered glands, my tongue probing his hood's opening. I tasted the salty flavor of his syrupy lubricant as I ran my tongue-tip in small circles around his slit, caressing the tender end of his glands. I knew that he must have a drop or two of urine inside his hood, but this didn't bother me because I knew urine is sterile. Jerry's tongue-tip probed my orifice as he twisted his head around my prick, his lips sliding sideways around my flaring corona and deep groove. I felt my scrotum tightening, and saw that his was already drawn up against his body. Now I removed my mouth to speak: "I think you'd better go first. I can tell how hot you are. When you feel yourself coming, take your mouth away so that you don't inadvertently bite me." He nodded, and I returned to work on his hot hard penis. This time my tongue went in farther, and I wondered if I could reach his rim, which I could feel through the foreskin. Jerry began moaning as I ran my tongue-tip in circles around his glands, while jiggling his foreskin with my fingers. I felt his excitement mounting quickly as I continued to circle his hard head with my tongue. I tried to probe deeper, but found that I could not reach the rim. However, I was able to strum the tip of my tongue against the gee-string under the head, and working his hot spot made him moan louder. Now he removed his mouth from my prick, and I knew he was close because his breathing had become heavy. Jerry grunted loudly as his prick throbbed in my mouth. A thick gush of cream erupted from his orifice as his glands pounded against my tongue, flooding my mouth with his sperm. His glands hammered against my tongue again as his body strained against mine, and he cried out in joyful agony as the orgasm overwhelmed him. A chlorine odor wafted up to my nostrils from my throat, as he emptied himself into me. His agonized moans filled the air as he gushed again, spurting hot cream all over my tongue and into my mouth. My fingers, clamped around the base of his shaft, felt his prick jerk with each discharge as the frenzy of his orgasm dominated his body. He shot again, but this time the pulse was weaker, and I stopped tonguing his glands for fear that it might be overly sensitive. I let the flow of hot juice pour from his slit in spurts, sucking it down eagerly as his orgasm faded. He was finally still, and I knew he was sinking into a daze, exhausted from the fury of his efforts. My erection hadn't softened despite his neglect, because Making him come and feeling his prick throbbing in my mouth had maintained my excitement. I let Jerry lie still for several minutes, until he had gathered his strength. He finally spoke: "Again, thanks, Jack. That was awesome. I blew my load and I thought I was blowing my mind." "I had my tongue inside your foreskin, you know that?" I asked. "Yeah, I felt it. That's the first time anybody's tongue's been in there." "It tasted good, Jerry. I enjoyed it as much as you did." Now Jerry returned to my hard prick, grasping it around the middle of the shaft and pulling down to ensure that my prick was bare right down to the groove. I felt him lip-lock around my groove as his tongue lapped all around my helmet. Primed as I was, each touch made my glands tingle, and I knew that the combination of my abstinence and the excitement of being with him was driving me toward the brink faster than usual. The sensations were irresistible, and I felt my helmet engorge into its final swelling. The extra hardness sensitized the nerve endings even more, and I felt every swipe of his tongue as if an electric current flowed from it into my tender flesh. Jerry was pulling down on my foreskin enough to stretch its nerve endings and my gee-string, dragging the front of my glands down. The combination of sensations was making my groin muscles tighten, despite my efforts to stay relaxed. I began to grunt in passion, knowing that Jerry would be sucking the sperm out of my prick within seconds. A heavy tingling filled my helmet and I knew I was only a second away from the explosion. I cried out helplessly as the root of my prick contracted, sending the first torrent of cream shooting up my tube. I felt the powerful suction of Jerry's lips as he drew the stream from my straining, throbbing helmet. I yelped in sweet agony as another joyful spasm gripped my groin, spewing another burning jet that seared its way up my prick to erupt in his mouth. Now he twisted his head, giving me sideways friction around my flaring and swollen corona, and my body shuddered as it expelled another load of cream. I felt his teeth lightly scrape my helmet, sending hot sparks of sensation stabbing deeply into my glands, provoking another hot spasm that made me shoot again. Now he stopped his effort as my orgasm raged on, because he knew my tip was becoming too sensitive. I continued to spurt into his mouth, but with less force now that my orgasm was winding down. My last few contractions, although very pleasurable, delivered only a steady ooze onto his tongue. Now it was my turn to lie dazed from the consuming fire of my discharge. I was drained, totally torpid, and barely conscious. Minutes later I revived and said: "Loved it, loved it. You really sucked me dry." "I loved it too, the way your helmet head was throbbing in my mouth." "This is real togetherness for us," I said. "I'd rather do this with you than anybody else," he said. "I feel the same way, Jerry. You're really special to me." "And you to me," was his rejoinder. I shuffled around so that we were now face to face instead of head to toe. I kissed him on the lips, as I hugged him passionately, lovingly, and nibbled on his earlobe. "Now that you're soft," I began. "Can you see how far you can skin it back?" We parted and he reached down to his limp prick, pulling back on his foreskin. As the tight fleshy hood slid back an arrowhead shaped glands emerged from its folds. Instead of being rounded, it looked more like an isosceles triangle, narrow and pointed. The corona was flat, not flaring, and the color was red. "It's out," he said joyfully as he held it on display for me to scrutinize. "Can you get the skin back any farther?" I asked. He tugged again, but the edge of the foreskin remained poised on the corona. "At least you can skin back to pee and to wash," I concluded. He leaned toward me and kissed me on the lips. We went into the kitchen naked and I made coffee. We both enjoyed coffee, but I had an ulterior motive that I shared with him: "I want to get you full of coffee and then watch you pee. You'll be able to get your foreskin back to pee the way I do." "You're right," he agreed. "But now how will I do it with the spacer in? It'll be just as before." "My friend changed his taping technique when he has stretched his foreskin part-way. Instead of using a tape strap across the spacer, he used a ring around the end of his foreskin and folded the tape over to retain the spacer. That let him pee right through the hole. Cleaning up afterward was a lot simpler." We sipped our coffee thoughtfully and after several more cups, my bladder was ready to burst. "I really have to go," he said, getting up. "I do too," I said as I followed him into the bathroom. We stood side by side at the sink, hips touching, as we skinned back. His stream began just before mine, a straight and powerful stream that splashed against the far side of the bowl. Mine followed, and our streams mixed in the bowl before flowing down the drain. In the mirror, I saw a look of triumph on his face as he urinated the normal way for the first time in his life. "This is great!" he exclaimed. "I love it! Our streams dwindled to dribbles, and we milked our pricks to expel that last drops. Then we slid our hoods forward to cover our tips. We showered, during which we again had to pee, this time pinching our foreskins shut to make our foreskins balloon. Before we got dressed, Jerry said: "Maybe I can slip in the 5/8" spacer now. This might be too soon, but I'll give it a try." This time he was able to skin back enough to spread a thick layer of steroid cream over his glands and work his foreskin back and forth a few times to spread it. Then he grasped the end of his foreskin edge and slipped in the larger spacer. It was a tight fit, but it went in. I tore off a length of tape and wound it around the end of his foreskin, leaving an edge that I folded over the rim of the spacer to hold it firmly. We went out to breakfast, and I noticed a happy look on his face. The anxiety that had clouded his mood ever since I'd known him seemed to have vanished. At a diner, we ordered ham, eggs, ash browns, and toast, which we ate with gusto. Because of the pressure of work, we had to go in at noon that Saturday, and we worked Sunday as well. We had no time for sex, and on Monday I had to leave for another trip. The next time we got together was two weekends later, and this time we met at his home. That Friday evening he'd brought a pizza home with him, and we sat on his patio washing it down with beer. He'd turned on the Jacuzzi and we planned to soak in the bubbling water after we'd finished eating. We'd already stripped naked before beginning our meal, and I saw that he had a pronounced bulge in the end of his foreskin. I asked him about this: "What size spacer are you using now?" "I've worked up to the 1" size," he replied. "My skin's really stretching, between the cream and those spacers." "Can you skin back all the way now?" "Oh, yes," he said. "When I take the spacer out, I skin back to wash, and the skin goes all the way back so that I can even uncover the groove behind my rim. That's when I'm soft, of course." He held his penis up to me and I saw that the entire front end of his glands was visible in the hole. When we'd finished eating we got into the hot tub. We sat comfortably for about fifteen minutes, until he said: "The water always loosens the tape. I'll take it off now." He worked at his penis under the bubbles, and deposited the spacer and the strip of tape on the edge of the tub. Then he lifted his hips to thrust his prick above the water. "See, it goes back all the way," he said as he demonstrated. The foreskin slid down smoothly to reveal to glands down to the rim. He pulled down a bit more, and exposed the neck of his penis, with the ring of foreskin bunched up behind it, held in place by his fingers. The arrowhead glands were very red, suggesting that it was very sensitive. I touched it with a fingertip, making him flinch slightly. "It's pretty tender," he said with a slight grin. "I'm sure it is. Mine was that way too, when I first skinned it back." His prick began to swell, and I felt mine engorging under the water as well. Soon we were both hard, and I saw him wince in discomfort. "I think my skin's trapped behind the head," he said. "I can't get it to go forward now that the head's swollen." "It's not a problem," I reassured him. "That's called paraphimosis and it means the foreskin's stuck behind the head. There's a simple solution, although if your urologist saw that he'd reach for a knife right away." I reached over and grasped his glands between thumb and forefinger, gently squeezing it to force the blood out of it. Once it was reduced in size, the foreskin easily slipped forward to cover it again. We were both very aroused from handling his prick, and in unspoken agreement we got out of the tub and dried ourselves. In his bedroom, we sat on the edge of the bed while I gently stroked his foreskin up and down, carefully avoiding pulling it too far back, as we didn't want it to ride over the rim and become stuck again. Jerry's slit was seeping syrupy lubricant, which made his hood slide much more easily. Meanwhile, he stroked mine the same way, although using longer strokes because my foreskin rode easily over my flaring corona in both directions. "This is so exciting for me," he said between heavy breaths. "I'm getting my skin stroked the way I'm doing yours." "That's another first for you," I commented reassuringly. "Just relax and enjoy it." "Oh, damn, Jack, do it to me, do it!” I'm so hot I just need to come!" I picked up the pace and watched his scrotum tighten against his body. Through the enveloping skin I felt his glands become harder. "Look at it, Jack. My tip's really red. I'm ready to pop." "I know you are," I said. "Just relax now. Hold on to my prick because that gets you excited, but let me bring you over the edge." I pumped his foreskin as his fingers slowed on my prick and then stopped. He was getting caught up in the breathless race to the peak, and I knew his mind was on his own sensations rather than mine. Jerry began grunting as a flood of sensations poured into his sensitive prick. I had a strong feeling of anticipation as I stroked him to bring on his orgasm. His face flushed and his eyelids began to flutter. I saw his stomach muscles tighten and I knew that any moment he'd be tumbling over the edge, into the free-fall of orgasm. I heard him cry out the instant I felt the first powerful throb in his prick. I was on the down-stroke, baring his glands, and I saw a long thick jet erupt from his slit to land on his thigh. He yelped again and another long stream gushed from his throbbing prick. This time I was on the up-stroke and caught most of it in his foreskin. I pulled down again, and his cream poured down over my encircling fingers as another powerful jet slammed through the lips of his slit. Now I pulled down harder on his hood to bare the arrowhead glands and the groove behind it. The chlorine odor of his juice filled the air, but I wanted to taste it as well. My lips encircled the narrow head and I felt it throb in release. His jet spurted up into my mouth, striking my palate, and I swallowed avidly. My tongue teased the gee-string under his glands, provoking another discharge that poured onto my tongue. I twisted my head so that my lips caressed the rim of his glands, and received another hot gush in reward. I heard him start to squeal and realized that his prick-head had gotten too sensitive, and I stopped moving. Jerry's last weak discharges flowed onto my tongue, until they became a mere seepage from his slit. I withdrew my mouth and stared at his red swollen tip. The narrow point was parted by a slit, the lips of which barely gaped from the jets that had so recently shot through it. Although his body was starting to relax after the storm, his tip remained red and fully swollen. I realized that the tight foreskin, lodged behind the head, was acting like a tourniquet, preventing the return flow of blood from his glands. Now I grasped his glands between thumb and forefinger and squeezed the blood out of it until it had shrunk enough to allow the trapped foreskin to slide forward over it. Once his tip was safely enclosed in the protective hood, it began shrinking. When Jerry recovered from his daze we wiped ourselves with tissues, also sopping up drops of cream that had fallen onto the bed-sheet. Jerry reinserted the spacer and wrapped tape around the end of his foreskin to hold it. We'd had a good meal, relaxed in the hot tub, drained ourselves with sex, and now we were ready for sleep. We pulled the sheet up over us and fell asleep in each other's arms. There was a gap of a month before we saw each other again, and this time we rendezvoused at my house on a Friday evening. As I grilled steaks on my patio, I asked him: "How long since you last came?" "Not since we were together. How about you?" "A couple of weeks ago I just had to have relief, so I stroked myself before going to bed. I couldn't hold out anymore." "I was pretty horny too, but too tired to do it at night. In the morning I had to rush getting ready for work," he said. "You've got quite a load stored up. We'll have to do something about that after dinner," I said. Because fall was in the air, we ate inside, and we stripped off our clothing before sitting at the table. I noticed that the end of his foreskin was stretched by a spacer larger than he'd been using. He saw me looking and said: "I'm up to an inch and a quarter now. That's bigger than my tip, but I want to make sure I've got some slack, just to make sure my skin doesn't get caught behind the head." "It's been working pretty well for you," I observed. We ate without comment and then after we'd cleared the table, we proceeded to my bedroom. I watched as Jerry removed the tape from his foreskin and withdrew that spacer. I saw that his foreskin had indeed loosened a lot, and that the aperture was somewhat floppy. He grasped it between thumb and index finger and demonstrated its mobility by sliding it back completely. I saw that it did clear the glands and the rim, and that the only thing keeping it from sliding all the way down his shaft was the gee-string that connected it to the underside of the head. The rich masculine aroma of his wet glands and foreskin filled the air. "This is really hot," he said, as our pricks began swelling. As usual we were becoming aroused, and we urgently needed the relief we'd find with each other. We'd become accustomed to our very satisfactory sex sessions, and developed a strong emotional bond that accentuated our sex by making it more meaningful. "You need to come first, since you've been waiting longer," I said as I grasped his prick, stiff and already drooling thick clear syrup from its slit. "I'll get you going with direct action on the head." I began running my fingertips over his arrowhead tip, picking up lubricant at the front and massaging it into the sides of the head. I returned to the slit to wet my fingertips again, and now circled the rim, paying special attention to its back-face, studded with many nerve endings. As my fingers played over his glands Jerry began breathing in short shallow gasps because the sensations were especially intense on his glossy red tip. The lubricated ridges of my fingertips scraped the nerve endings in the distended thin membrane sending ripples of joy into the engorged head. "AH-AH-AH!" he went as I continued to work on his skinned-back glands, rapidly moving my fingers from one spot to another to avoid tiring out the nerve endings in any one spot. Every second brought him fresh sensations, and I saw his body was tensing rapidly. His balls were already tight, and the surface of his glands had already lost the last of its sponginess, having hardened with excitement. Now his stomach muscles tensed involuntarily. Rich clear syrup oozed from his slit, keeping my fingertips lubricated and filling the air with a musky odor that was arousing to both of us. I saw his eyes close and a second later he began grunting hard. "HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" he cried as I felt his arrowhead tip throb between my fingers, followed by a thick white stream that jetted upward and brought the sharp odor of chlorine to my nostrils. He grunted rapidly as I swept my fingertips around the engorged glands, bringing forth another heavy discharge that shot high into the air and fell back to wet my hand and his prick. My fingertips danced over his engorged head, sending heavy jolts of sensation into his prick and making his eyes water. His tip throbbed again, and another white torrent slammed through the lips of his slit, evidence of his need for the relief that I was happy to provide. Now I lightened my touches, aware that his tip would become super-sensitive within seconds and wanting to avoid giving him distress. I pressed a fingertip lightly into the underside of his glands, touching his hot spot and feeling the pulse of his urethra as another stream rushed through it and out of his distended orifice. His discharges were weakening, but his spasms continued as he drained himself. He cried out at the sweet intensity of the sensations, helpless as he writhed on the bed. Now I'd stopped stroking his tip, and just held his shaft tenderly as his glands continued to drool semen. His discharges were no longer thick creamy white, but becoming clearer, and I knew that he'd almost emptied himself of semen. I felt the hardness begin to leave his prick as he stopped struggling, and his body began to relax after the fury of the orgasm. He was very still, subdued by the aftershock, and I let him remain that way for several minutes. Finally he opened his eyes and smiled at me. "Thanks so much, Jack. That was great." I was gratified that he'd enjoyed the experience, knowing that this had brought us closer both physically and emotionally. I felt his fingers closing around my prick, and knew he was about to reciprocate. "Any time," I murmured, and then kissed him on the lips. I felt him gently draw my foreskin back until the dome of my helmet was exposed, and heard him comment: "You smell wonderful, Jack. I love the aroma of your cock." He inhaled deeply and then brought my foreskin up again to form a pucker and the end as it enveloped my glands. Now he drew it down again, but a bit farther. He leaned over and I felt his warm lips brush my helmet. "I want to taste it," he said after the kiss. His words sent an electric thrill through my body, a feeling of anticipation. I knew that he intended to suck the cream from my prick, working his lips and tongue on it until the helmet pounded against his tongue as it gushed white streams into his mouth. Now he eased my foreskin slowly back until it rode over my flaring rim, nerve endings stretching, and snapped down into the deep groove behind the head. I felt his warm lips kiss the front dome, and then part to slide smoothly over the body of my glands until they engulfed the corona. I felt his tongue probing my slit, searching for a taste of my salty syrup, as his lips locked behind my rim. His hand cupped my rapidly tightening scrotum, fingers pressing into the tender flesh behind it. I was already primed from the excitement of having made him cream only minutes ago, and ready to burst with two weeks' accumulation of pent-up cream. I knew for sure that I wouldn't last long as I felt my helmet engorging further inside his mouth as his tongue-tip drilled into my gaping orifice. A drop of syrup crawled up my urethra and slowly distended the lips of my orifice as it oozed between them. He began twisting his head to work his lips sideways around my swollen corona, applying delicious friction to the exposed nerve endings. The stimulation wasn't as intense as it might have been, for he understood that I liked to prolong the feeling of anticipation just before orgasm, and he wasn't trying to end it too soon for me. Still, I was so excited that I felt my arousal mount as his lips worked over my flange. His slow, measured stimulation produced a mild tickle in my rim, a sensation that slowly grew more intense, and I felt a slight contraction in the root of my shaft as more drops of clear syrup slipped into my tube. I felt his fingers tighten around the base of my prick, clamping the skin tightly back and compressing my veins to slow the return flow of blood and ensure that my erection was at maximum hardness. I felt the congestion in my engorged helmet and this made the nerve endings even more sensitive. I began to moan in response to the sensations, and my crotch muscles tightened involuntarily despite my effort to remain relaxed. The tickle in my corona intensified and spread over the surface of my glands. His tongue-tip, probing my meatus, added to my excitement, and I knew I was being drawn inexorably toward the brink. It was now totally out of my control and I slid helplessly toward the inevitable explosion. As my attention increasingly focused on the captivating sensations in my prick, my awareness of the world outside my body dimmed. I was only vaguely conscious that I was in the bedroom, instead concentrating on the compelling tickle in my glands. Now the tickle changed to a hot tingle, and I knew that this was it. Within a second I'd be tumbling into the free-fall of orgasm. Now Jerry's mouth sucked hard on my glands and hot sparks of sensation stabbed deeply into my helmet. My eyes closed and I cried out in pure joy as a jolt of sensation shot down my shaft to the root and I felt the heavy pounding of orgasm begin deep inside me. My prick root contracted with a hot spasm and I felt a burning jet of cream sear its way up my urethra. I grunted loudly as a second contraction expelled another load that gushed from my throbbing prick into Jerry's mouth. My helmet was tingling and throbbing as the wild frenzy of orgasm raged through my body, putting my mind on "HOLD" and making me cry out helplessly. Another hard contraction went through my prick root, spewing liquid fire that rushed up my tube. Jerry twisted his head again, but now his soft lips felt like sandpaper on my corona, which was becoming super-sensitive. He sensed this and stopped moving, merely pursing his lips around my orifice to catch the remaining ejaculations. My jets weakened and turned into a steady seepage, which Jerry licked and swallowed avidly. I felt him suck at my gaping orifice to obtain the last drops as they drooled from my helmet. My breathing began to slow, and I felt the tension leave my body. The aftershock hit me like a sledgehammer, sending me into the usual daze, and I went totally limp. Now we embraced, arms locked around each other, face to face, his lips brushing against mine. We looked into each others' eyes and knew that we had strong ties that bound us to each other. "I'm really glad you helped me, Jack. This changed a lot for me." We fall asleep together. Next morning as I awake I hear his voice: "We've got some good moments ahead, Jerry. Now that you can get your foreskin back, maybe I can dock you." "I've heard of docking, but never did it," he said. "I'm sure I can dock you. Your gland is narrow and I think it can easily fit into my foreskin." As I spoke I felt his penis stir against my thigh. "Think you're ready now?" I asked. "Yeah, I think so. We're both hard from having to pee." "Okay, just slip your tip into my foreskin," I said, stabilizing my erection. "Even though I'm hard I'm sure there's plenty of room for you inside me." I reached down to grasp the edges of my foreskin, stretching the orifice so that Jerry's arrowhead wedge would easily slip into it. He slipped in along the top of my glands, his narrow tip leaking lubricant as it slid along the broad upper surface of my helmet until I felt it bump against my flaring ridge. I closed my fingers around the forward edge of my foreskin, securing it around the bunched flesh behind his rim. A blissful look came over his face. "I fit in there pretty well, don't I?" he asked. "I knew there was enough room for both of us," I answered. "It feels like I belong in there," he continued. "I know you do," I reassured him. "Now just relax and let things happen." I began twisting my fist, taking my foreskin with it, to give us that delicious sideways friction around both our tips. The pressure made his tip slide sideways along the broad upper surface of mine, and I knew that he was getting a lot of stimulation in the hot spot under his glands, where his tightly-stretched gee-string was rubbing against my helmet. My fingers were applying pressure to his rim through my foreskin, hitting the many nerve endings that studded it. "Now that I'm able to get my skin back, I noticed that I've got lots of little bumps along my rim, like you do," he said. "I think they're very sensitive." "We've both got those, mainly because we're not cut," I replied. "On a cut guy, they dry out and shrink, and become much less sensitive." As I twisted my fist I felt him begin to thrust slightly inside my hood, stretching the skin as the tip of his glands probed past my corona. "It's good that my cock lubricates so much," he observed. "If we were dry we would have come too quickly." "You're right. I'm glad we can hold off with all that lube, even though our bladders are full. We'll enjoy the ride longer." "I want to enjoy it with you, Jack.” This is something special mainly because I'm doing it with you. It's so good feeling my tip in there, rubbing against yours inside your skin." "I'm glad you're inside me," I said. "I know that when you shoot, your cream's going to shoot all over my helmet." We were both tensing up, our sensations heightening as our tips continued to rub and press against each other. Jerry hugged me around the shoulders, and now my cheek was against his while farther down we were separated by the length of our pricks. "My tip's starting to tickle," he announced. "So is mine, Jerry. We're getting close." My tickle began right at the top, where his arrowhead was rubbing against my helmet.” This is so hot," he whispered, hugging me more tightly. I nibbled at his earlobe, conscious of the intimacy of our intertwined bodies. "My tip's really sensitive," he whispered. "I'm starting to get that tingle." As he spoke his breathing increased and he began to grunt. His thrusts into my foreskin grew more urgent. We were straining against each other on the bed, knowing that the supreme moment was only seconds away. "HUNH!" he grunted as I felt his hot hard tip throb against mine. A moment later I felt a torrent of hot cream shoot from his glands, filling the space behind my rim. This triggered my orgasm, and I felt the sublime sensations as my prick root contracted, sending a stream of semen hurtling up my tube. Jerry's tip throbbed again, and I felt his hot juice swirling around my helmet, filling my foreskin and overflowing. Our throbbing tips pounded against each other in mindless release as the frenzy of orgasm dominated our bodies. Jerry's pulsing prick sent more hot torrents into my foreskin, distending it and then pouring out the end, mixing with my copious streams. Joined at their tips, our pricks shared the rapture of orgasm, hot and swollen as they unloaded against each other. Now our streams relented, pulsing just as rapidly but with less volume, as our orgasms tapered off. Our streams slowed to dribbles, and my fist was soaked in semen like the sheet below it, the product of our joyful discharges that left us drained and spent. Now we were both still, enraptures by the blissful afterglow, comfortable in each others' arms, sharing the warmth of our bonding. "It was so nice with you," Jerry said after several minutes. "It's going to continue being nice," I said. "We really belong together." He kissed me on the lips and we clung to each other, lovingly, confident in our union. |
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