NOTE: Please do not take this fictional story as a slur against Poland
or the Polish criminal justice system. The incompetence and venality of
the fictional police and judiciary in this story was necessary to the
plot, and is not meant as a reflection on the decent and hard-working
real-life counterparts.
I'd known Dan since college. We were the
only two uncut kids in our physical education class, but we'd never been
teased because of our foreskins, even as children. On the contrary, the
other boys stared at us enviously in the locker room. Dan and I found that
our foreskins weren't all we had in common, and we became life-long
friends. When we were alone together we experimented sexually, and we
agreed that a relationship with a man was simpler and easier to sustain
than with a woman.
Dan and I were very average-looking, both about
5'10" and with medium builds. We both had brown hair but his eyes were
green while mine were brown. However, our pricks looked very much alike,
different only in minor details. Limp, we were both about three inches,
with long elephant trunk nipples that dangled beyond the big tips they
covered.
Our work separated us for years, although we kept in close
touch. Dan lived three states away and our visits were infrequent. When
we'd gotten together, we'd enjoyed mutual masturbation, oral and
Princeton.
"I really like getting together with you, Jack," he
commented during one of our meetings. "I've had some experiences with cut
guys, but they don't seem to understand how sensitive an uncut guy's cock
is."
"I know just what you mean," I agreed. "Some of them are too
rough. They handle my prick the way they're accustomed to handling theirs.
Their pricks are desensitized and they need a lot of pressure and quick
strokes to get them off and they don't realize that I don't." As I spoke I
clasped the end of his long foreskin nipple and was pulling it out from
his body. The delicate stimulation was producing results, and the core of
his prick was lengthening under my touch.
"Let me do it to you,"
Dan said as he clasped the bulge of my helmet through my foreskin,
applying gentle rhythmic squeezes that he knew unfailingly aroused me.
"You know what I like," I said.
"And I know what you like," he
replied. As he spoke the outline of his mushroom-shaped glans became
clearly visible through his widening foreskin. Dan had a bulky glans, as I
did, although the shape was slightly different. Our tips had the same
blunt front dome, expanding towards the rear. His rim stood out over ¼"
above the neck of his shaft, as mine did, but had a rounded contour
instead of a sharp flare. This made it look like a mushroom. Mine looked
more like a helmet. His rim's rounded shaped made his foreskin slide very
easily over it when I stroked it, whereas mine tended to lock the foreskin
behind it. We both had about six inches in overall length when erect.
"You're nice and hard now," I commented. "We both are," he countered.
"We both have lots of skin, like we always did." Even with full erections,
our long foreskins covered our tips completely, forming tight puckers
beyond the end. I began to pull down on his foreskin, watching the pucker
start to expand as the delicate tissues stretched.
"I'm going to
skin you back very slowly," I said as I pulled up on his hood. Then I
started down again, pulling slightly farther until his pucker had spread
to the diameter of a dime, revealing his long slit.
"I met an uncut
guy last year," Dan said. "He had a long skin like us, but it was very
loose and at the end it gaped. I like the way your skin hugs the contours
of your cock." Now he was pulling down on my hood, tensing the pucker
against the front dome of my helmet.
"Our foreskins are tight but
very stretchy," I said as Dan pulled my foreskin up again and then worked
it down to widen the opening. My arm was around his shoulders, and I
hugged him to me as we lovingly aroused each other. His other hand cupped
my balls, which I felt pulling up against my body.
"When was the
last time you came?" he asked me as he pulled my hood farther down,
exposing half my helmet.
"A couple of weeks ago," I said. "I've
been busy with my work."
"It's been longer than that for me," he
said. "Between moving and settling into my new job I haven't had time for
anybody." Now I'd pulled his foreskin halfway down the head, and the heady
aroma of our wet tips and foreskins filled the air. I inhaled deeply. “I
like the way your prick smells," I said. "That gets me hot too."
"I
like it too," he affirmed.
"Man, you're really hot," I commented.
"Your balls are tightening up now."
"So are yours," he said. He was
working my foreskin in a steady rhythm now, as I was doing to him.
"You're ahead of me," I remarked. "Your tip feels like it's gotten
harder, and I can see its darker now." His slit was leaking clear
lubricant copiously and I picked up the pace. His body tensed. “You’ve got
me real close," he murmured.
"Just relax and let me finish you
first," I suggested. "You're going to blast off any second." I felt his
hand stop working on my prick, merely clasping it now, and I knew that his
mind was totally focused on the intense sensations filling his groin. I
leaned closer to his crotch, as I wanted to be ready when he came.
"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" Dan grunted as the sensations filled his body. His
slit poured out a steady stream of lube, and I leaned over to lick it from
his turgid tip. The touch of my tongue triggered him, and I felt his hot
hard prick throb in my hand.
Dan loaned loudly as the first wave of
his orgasm hit him, and I wrapped my lips around his hard and throbbing
tip. The jet hit the back of my throat and I swallowed hard as I heard him
cry out in joyous agony. I twisted my head so that my lips rubbed around
his flaring rim as I held his foreskin tightly back. This triggered
another hot blast that filled my mouth. Dan's hips bucked as he thrust his
prick upward, deeper into my mouth. His turgid mushroom slid along my
palate as it disgorged another stream of cream that filled my mouth with
the characteristic chlorine taste.
Now I stopped moving my lips
around his glans because I knew that it became very sensitive after the
third ejaculation. His orgasm roared on, his engorged mushroom head
hammering against my palate, and he was still thrusting in the frenzy of
his release. I continued to swallow, savoring the combined tastes of his
lube and semen as he continued to pour it into my mouth. His moans weren't
as loud, though, and his jets were weaker.
Gradually, his frenzy
subsided, and his throbs became weaker. Now his slit was just oozing with
the residue of his discharge, and I began to milk his urethra to force out
the last drops. I began behind his scrotum, pressing my fingertip into the
tube and working it forward. I milked the bulge on the underside of his
shaft and was rewarded by a thick gush that seeped from his slit onto my
tongue.
Dan lay inert, dazed by the hot pulses that had wracked
his body. I waited for him to revive, my prick still hard in his hand. He
hadn't let go, even during his orgasm, because it added to his excitement
to hold my prick. I usually did the same, feeling his hot hardness in my
hand as he stimulated me to the point of no return. Now, however, he'd be
soft when he resumed working on my prick. I felt his strong fingers
squeeze my shaft, and his stare shifted from the ceiling to my face as I
slipped the foreskin forward to cover his shrinking glans.
"Man,
that was hot," he whispered.
"You were overdue for release," I
murmured. "You really needed to blow that load."
"You know I was,"
he agreed. "Now it's your turn. I can feel how hard you are. You're ready
to blow it."
"Making you come really turned me on," I said. "It
always does. I could feel your big tip inside my mouth while it was
throbbing."
"Just like I'm going to feel yours," he said as he
pushed me flat on the couch and knelt on the floor, mouth poised over the
purple end of my prick as he drew down the foreskin.
"Swallowing
each other's juice avoids making a mess on the couch," I observed. "It's
tasty too," I added as I felt his lips sliding down over my engorged
helmet. I felt the tip of his tongue drilling into my teardrop shaped
orifice as his lips enclosed my flaring corona, locking in the deep groove
behind it. He knew what I liked from long experience, and he began
rotating his head as I'd done to him. His lips slid sensually around my
rim, caressing the flare and the nerve-studded back-face of my corona.
I was already primed for orgasm, as he'd accurately observed, and I
felt my helmet engorge in its final swelling, corona filling out fully and
hardening with the pressure of the blood rushing into it. My helmet was
filled with a pleasant ache that signaled that I urgently needed the
release he was about to give me. I was now breathing hard, and although I
tried to remain relaxed to prolong the build-up, my body tensed
involuntarily. I was withdrawing into myself as the heightened sensations
dominated my consciousness.
His sharp teeth lightly scraped the
broad upper surface of my helmet and the gee-string underneath, triggering
my first spasm. I yelped loudly as the first hot blast shot up my urethra,
rushing to escape. My eyes snapped shut and I tumbled into the free-fall
of orgasm, transported into another world where there was only bliss. I
cried out helplessly as his teeth scraped my nerve endings again, and the
heavy pounding of orgasm deep inside me sent another torrent of hot cream
searing its way up my prick. I sensed that he was swallowing hard, and my
hips bucked as the root of my prick released a third discharge that left
me gasping breathlessly. I writhed in the frenzy of my orgasm as I shot
again, and now I felt his lips go still around my helmet.
I had
entered the super-sensitive stage, and I was glad that Dan and I were
partners, each understanding how the natural penis was more sensitive than
the shorn model, and how to avoid distress when the sensitivity increased.
I continued to shoot, my prick throbbing in his mouth, and he sucked the
cream from my gaping orifice.
The next spasm was weaker and the
volume less. My orgasm gradually dwindled to a steady seepage, which he
swallowed faithfully. Now I was still, overcome by the aftershock, and I
lay inert, waiting to recover while I enjoyed the peaceful feeling that
was creeping over me.
I didn't see Dan for a long while after that,
meeting him only sporadically when our schedules allowed it. I wondered
why he was so often out of town, given the nature of his work, and when he
moved away I thought I might never see him again, despite our profound
attachment for each other.
Years later Dan moved back and bought a
house only a mile from where I lived. He'd said that he'd found work
nearby and taken advantage of the opportunity. We got together quickly
after he'd phoned to tell me of his return. I invited him to my house,
where I had both a swimming pool and a Jacuzzi in my yard. I prepared
dinner on the grill for him and for Mark, my step-son. After dinner I sent
Mark off to take a bath.
"You have a little boy now," Dan said.
"You never got married, did you?"
"No, I never did. Mark is not my
biological son. He's actually my nephew, my sister's boy. His parents were
killed in an airline crash a couple of years ago. My sister and her
husband had arranged that if anything happened to them I'd get custody."
"So you're raising him alone?" Dan asked. "Wouldn't it be a bit easier
if you had a male partner, married?"
"No," I replied. "I don't
believe in this gay marriage shit. Straight people have such a hard time
with their marriages that it looks like a lousy risk to me."
"I
know what you mean," Dan agreed. "Straight people have a fifty percent
divorce rate. Gay marriage seems like just a fad. Remember 15 years ago?
Then it was gays in the military. Look what happened to that, now that
there's a shooting war going on. That was another fad that died out."
"I figured it was simpler to raise him as a single parent. I avoid a
lot of problems that way."
"I think you're right," Dan agreed.
At that moment Mark walked into the room, stark naked. Dan looked at
him as I spoke:
"Okay, Mark, now that you've taken your shower, go
get ready for bed." Mark went back to his bedroom.
"How old is he,
about six?" Dan asked.
"Yes, that's exactly right. He had his sixth
birthday last month."
"I noticed he isn't circumcised either," Dan
said. "How did that happen?"
"My sister Grace didn't want it done,
and neither did her husband, because he'd been snipped as a baby and
didn't like it. The doctor gave them some static, but David reminded him
that he was an attorney, and that if little Mark didn't come home from the
hospital with everything he'd been born with, the doctor would be facing
major problems."
"His foreskin looks pretty long and tight, a
perfect anteater" Dan observed. "Do you have any trouble getting it back
for cleaning?"
"No problem at all," I replied. "First, his parents
just left his penis alone during his baths. I never tried to get it back,
either. You don't have to skin back a baby's penis. It really doesn't get
dirty, and the sterile urine flushes out the foreskin anyway. I told him
to try it himself, a little bit at a time, so that he didn't hurt himself.
I don't think anyone should try to retract a boy's foreskin except the boy
himself. He worked at it for a couple of years, and last year was able to
get it all the way back to expose the head and the groove behind it. Then
I told him just to rinse his penis, and be careful not to leave a soap
residue inside his foreskin because that could be irritating. He's had no
problem cleaning inside his foreskin since."
"I remember when I was
a kid and my skin was long and tight like his," Dan said. "I couldn't get
it back at first either and it was stuck to the head. Each time I peed it
would balloon out, and this got the skin unstuck. Then, of course, I
played with it, and that helped loosen it. Each time I got a hard-on I'd
stroke it back and forth, and gradually I was able to get it all the way
back, by the time I was six or seven."
"Mine was the same way," I
said. "I guess it runs in the family. I handled it the same way you did.
My father wasn't cut and he told me it was all right to play with it, just
as long as it wasn't in public. I really played with mine a lot. I used to
pull the end of my nipple out as far as I could. That helped get it
unstuck from the head."
"My father was cut. The doctor did it to
him the same time he took out his tonsils when he was five. He was shocked
and he hated it, and he didn't let the doctor cut me when I was born," Dan
revealed.
By this time I calculated that Mark was in bed and I
excused myself to bid him goodnight. When I returned Dan was looking at me
expectantly as he sat on the couch.
"Mark's a very heavy sleeper,"
I reassured him as I sat next to him. "We won't be interrupted." Dan was
fingering his penis through his clothing, running a finger up and down the
rapidly lengthening bulge down the left leg of his pants. I began running
my finger down the hard outline of his prick, and Dan shafted his
attention to my crotch. Feeling through the fabric, he found the outline
of my glans and began squeezing it gently.
"Let's get undressed,"
he urged. We both quickly got out of our clothing and I went to the
bathroom to get a towel to spread under us. I was almost hard when I got
back, and Dan was fully hard, but with his anteater foreskin forming a
pucker beyond the end of his mushroom. We sat next to each other on the
towel. I felt his fingers squeezing my helmet through its fleshy shroud,
and this brought an immediate response from my prick. The root twitched
with every squeeze, each contraction making it swell even more, until it
was fully hard after about six squeezes.
"I'm going to work your
skin back so I can see that beautiful head," he said. He began tugging my
foreskin down in small increments, bringing it back up each time, only to
draw it down a bit farther with the next pull. It took three tugs to get
it halfway down my glans, which stood out proudly, purple and glistening.
The aroma of wet glans and foreskin filled the air, and Dan inhaled
deeply.
"I like the way your slit pouts to make a teardrop," he
said as he pulled my foreskin down almost to the rim. I gave his glans a
couple of squeezes through his foreskin, and felt the responding throbs.
"I want to see you shoot," he said with an urgent note in his
voice. He retracted my hood completely and I felt it expand over my
flaring rim and snap down into the deep groove behind it. Now he pulled it
up again, compressing my rim and making me moan in delight. His fingers
closed fully around my prick as he began pumping my foreskin, and I was
helpless in his hands, unwilling to resist or even protest. I felt an
urgency for orgasm that forced me to let him draw it from me, and I knew
I'd be the first to come. "I love holding on to your prick," I said.
"Feeling it really excites me." I stroked Dan as rapidly as he was
stroking me, and I knew that, although my load might be the first to
erupt, his would be right behind it. Dan's tightly encircling fingers flew
up and down my rigid prick, and I felt the sensation building up in my
helmet. At first, there was a tickle in the rim, and then it spread all
over the head to the front dome. More blood rushed into my prick, making
it swell to its final hardness.
I was looking down at our pricks,
and saw that our tips had darkened, which meant that our explosions were
only seconds away. The tickle in my tip had changed to a hot tingle that
made me gasp, and then I felt the sensation explode, shooting a hot spark
down the length of my shaft to the root. I cried out as the first rush of
hot cream burst into my urethra, searing its way up my prick to erupt all
over my abdomen. Dan's prick throbbed hard in my hand, and I heard him
grunt hard as a torrent of white juice poured from between the lips of his
long slit. I shot again, my ejaculation falling back onto his encircling
fingers, and a split second later Dan's prick throbbed again in its
frenzy, sending another torrent over his stomach and my hand.
We
clung to each other desperately as we stroked each other's pricks, drawing
forth another discharge that soaked our pubic hairs and the towel
underneath us. Now we both stopped stroking because we knew that the
other's prick was becoming super-sensitive. We pulled down hard on each
others' foreskins, stretching the nerve endings in the hoods and the
frenulums and baring the tips so that we could watch the eruptions.
Our ejaculations were less forceful now, gradually declining to
seepage, as we drained ourselves. What had been thick white cream turned
to clear fluid as our sperm ran out and was replaced by lubricant. We
shuddered against each other as our bodies responded automatically,
draining the last drops.
Our tips were coated with thick exudates
as we came to a halt. We sat very still, enjoying the blissful feeling
that crept over us as we sunk into a daze. Dan kissed me tenderly on the
lips.
"I loved coming together with you," I said as I kissed him
back.
"Sharing the magic moment's always a thrill with you," he
said. We got up and showered, preparing for bed.
The next day Mark
went to his friend's house to spend the entire day with him and to stay
overnight. This gave Dan and me a lot of time to talk and do whatever we
wished. We were lying on my queen-size bed talking.
"We've known
each other a long time," Dan said. "I know what you do, but do you know
what I really do?" His question puzzled me, for I knew that Dan was an
architect. I thought I knew, anyway.
"Yes," I replied. "I've known
since we graduated. What's the big deal?"
"You think I'm an
architect, but that's just a cover. I really do secret work for the
government." That surprised me, but then I remembered that he'd often been
away for a long time, supposedly on assignment for his firm.
"CIA?"
I asked.
"No, not the CIA," he replied. "I work for the Department
of Defense in a section practically nobody knows about. It's called the
Foreign Intelligence Support Activity. We help out with certain mundane
tasks supporting various foreign intelligence collection efforts. Our
section lends me out to the CIA sometimes, and other times to the DIA, the
Defense Intelligence Agency."
"What do you actually do?" I asked.
"Kill people? Plant bugs in some foreign government offices? Steal the
latest jet fighter?"
"No, nothing that thrilling," he replied.
"Most of the time I'm just a courier. Sometimes I meet with agents and
they hand over material to me, and I bring it back to this country. More
often I service dead drops, hiding places where they leave material for me
to pick up. That's a lot safer, because we don't have to meet in person.
Also, they don't know me and I never see them. That's called
compartmentalization, and it means that even if an agent gets caught, he
can't give me away to the police. It works the other way too."
"Still, isn't it dangerous carrying around stuff you pick up from your
agents?"
"Not really. The material I pickup today isn't paper or
even microfilm. Today, it's all put onto memory chips and they're
concealed in everyday objects. It's practically impossible for
counter-espionage agents or customs guards to detect. None ever has, so
far."
"They must be pretty small, I guess. How do you hide them?"
"They are pretty small," he explained. "I'm sure you're seen these
things that plug into a USB port that hold several gigabytes of data.
Those are on the open market. Our Technical Services Division developed
some that are really tiny, about the size of the head of a pin, and hold
about 50 gigabytes. They cost about a million bucks each to make. I can
take one and hide it almost anywhere, such as at the bottom of a screw
hole in my watch. Since it's surrounded by metal, it never shows up in
X-rays."
"How did you ever get into this line of work?" I asked.
In reply, he reached out and clasped my foreskin between thumb and index
finger, gently pulling it out from my body.
"Because of this," was
his surprising answer. "Also, I speak Czech fluently because my parents
were Czech. I can pass for a Czech anywhere in the world. In Europe,
practically nobody's circumcised, except for religious minorities. They're
all anteaters there, and not having a foreskin can be a dead give-away.
With the strip-to-the-skin inspections you sometimes have to go through at
airports, they'd think right away that anyone who's circumcised was an
American or a Jew. I work mostly in Eastern Europe, where they don't like
Americans or Jews, even with the end of the Cold War."
"Did any of
your people get caught because they were clipped?" I asked.
"In the
early days, yes. Our people should have learned from the Israelis, who
also ran intelligence operations in Eastern Europe. The Israelis thought
that nobody would hold a drop-your-pants inspection, but other things
happened. One of their couriers was run down in a traffic accident. At the
hospital the doctor saw that he'd been cut. The doctor's brother was in
the security police and he called him. Another one of theirs got horny and
went to a prostitute. The girl saw he didn't have a foreskin and turned
him in. We should have learned from that, but we didn't."
"What
happened to ours?"
"Because they'd run into Israeli agents, the
security police over there started playing helmet-anteater with suspicious
people. If you were an anteater, you were usually okay. If you were a
helmet, you were automatically in deep shit. This was in the late 40s. The
first of ours to get caught just happened to run into a police check-point
in East Berlin, where they were always on the alert for spies. They did
strip him to the skin, and even though he spoke German perfectly, he
didn't have a chance. Another was pissing in a public urinal in Hungary in
the 1950s and by sheer bad luck, a colonel of their security police in
plainclothes came in and pissed in the trough next to him. You know how
guys check each other out in the bathroom. His ass was grass. A third guy
got caught in Poland in the 1960s. His first mistake was running a little
black market operation on the side. He got caught by the regular police
and in the jail they made him strip down. When they saw a scar instead of
skin they called the security police. I can tell you, you don't want to
undergo interrogation by those people. You're having a good day if they
merely beat the shit out of you."
"So then they started looking for
guys who weren't cut," I said. "How did they get on to you, personally?"
"Their recruiters came to the university and looked at all male
students' medical records. That let them make a list of all the uncut
guys. Then they looked for other things, such as language skills. They
interviewed me and made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Among other things,
I got $20,000 just for signing up, and they said if I finished the
training course successfully, I'd get another $30,000. That made fifty
thou right at the start."
"I bet you couldn't work in the Middle
East," I said, taking a wild guess.
"You're absolutely right on
that. In the Middle East, except for a tiny Christian minority,
everybody's either Jewish or Moslem, and they're all circumcised. To pass,
you've got to be a helmet. Anteaters like you and me would really stand
out. In some Moslem countries, if you get caught with a foreskin, they'll
pin you down and cut it off right then and there. They think it's an
affront to Allah. We've got couriers who work the Middle East, and they're
all circumcised. The police there will drag you into an alley or doorway
and make you strip down if they have the slightest suspicion."
"I'd
guess your section had an easier time finding guys who can get around in
the Middle East than in Eastern Europe," I ventured.
"You're right
on that," Dan confirmed. "There are lots of guys without foreskins in this
country. Finding people like us is more difficult. Then there's the
language skill. We have to be really fluent in at least one foreign
language consistent with our area of operation."
"I guess you'd
have to look like the natives too," I ventured.
"Oh, you're right
about that. Even if I didn't have a foreskin, I'd be wrong for the Middle
East because my skins too light and I don't have black hair."
"Suppose your department finds someone who does have black hair and an
olive complexion," I suggested. "If he's not cut, would they ask him to
get cut?"
"That's happened once or twice. I knew a courier who was
of Gypsy extraction, and they never circumcise their boys. They told him
that circumcision was part of the job qualification, and they gave him a
$10,000 bonus to get clipped. He accepted the offer."
"In one way
he was lucky," I mused. "I'm sure they did it under anesthesia. Babies
don't get any anesthetic when they cut them. That's one more reason my
sister didn't want Mark to get clipped."
"You're right, Jack. This
guy was really apprehensive about the pain, and they told him he'd never
feel anything at all. In the operating room, they made him groggy with
nitrous oxide, just a light sleep, so that he wouldn't be anxious or feel
the injections they used to anesthetize his penis. They kept him groggy
during the surgery and used a long-acting local so that he'd still be numb
when he woke up. Then they kept him doped up on Demerol until his penis
healed."
"How do you know all this?" I asked.
"I was in the
same group he was. He told me all about it," Dan said.
"Does it
ever work the other way?" I asked. "Say they find a guy who speaks an
Eastern European language, like you, but he's been cut. Do they do plastic
surgery on his prick to replace his foreskin?"
"That happened once
or twice in the early days," Dan said. "They tried a couple of different
methods of grafting a new foreskin onto their dicks. The worst was using
scrotal skin. That's so much darker than shaft skin that it looked
unnatural right from the start. They never sent that guy out because they
knew that anyone seeing the dark red band around the end of his dick would
know something was wrong. I saw his cock because we had sex a couple of
times and he told me all about it when I asked why his foreskin was a
different color and texture than his shaft skin."
"Did they try
other methods after that?" I asked.
"Sure they did. They tried
grafting skin from the thigh or abdomen, if the guy wasn't very hairy.
That gave better results, but still left scars. In the end, they gave up
on plastic surgery."
"I'd heard that some cut guys restore their
foreskins by stretching the shaft-skin," I said. "They every try that?"
"Believe me, they tried everything. I knew one guy in the section who
did that. It took him three years to stretch the skin out enough so that
it covered the head, and when he finished it looked pretty good. I don't
think anybody would have spotted that as a re-growth, but the time factor
was the problem. The department just couldn't wait three years for the
results."
"It really looked natural?" I asked.
"From the
outside it looked perfect. The skin covered the head all the way, although
it didn't tighten down at the end the way ours do. That's didn't seem to
be a problem, because lots of guys have loose skins. Then the section
chief decided to run a little test. He had the guy have sex with a female
agent and asked her to look for anything unusual. She reported back that
the guy's penis looked exactly like an uncircumcised one and felt like one
too, but when she skinned him back she saw the thick brown scar ring on
the inside of the skin, and that gave him away right then. The department
decided it couldn't risk anyone's life that way and they stopped
experimenting with restoring skins."
"I'm glad you still have
yours, for purely selfish reasons," I said as I stripped his long hood
down from the turgid mushroom head. The glossy wet head glistened in the
soft room light. Inspecting it closely I saw the little bumps on the rim,
buds of sensation filled with nerve endings. Dan worked my foreskin down
from my helmet, and lightly touched the gaping orifice with the tip of his
finger. Now he pressed down, compressing the deep-seated nerve endings in
my helmet, and I felt the root of my prick twitch. "Feel like doing
Princeton?" he asked as he pulled my hood forward again.
"That
would be nice," I said. "I've got condoms here." I reached into the
bedside drawer and pulled out a Magnum size condom. These are best because
they're loose fitting and allow free movement inside them. I unrolled it
over Dan's bare mushroom and down his shaft. His foreskin was bunched up
behind his rim, out of the way. Now I rolled onto my left side and he got
behind me, slipping his prick between my thighs when I raised my right
leg.
"That feels very good," he said as he began thrusting slowly.
With the pressure of my thighs, the condom remained in place while his
prick slid freely inside it. He reached over me and grasped mine, working
the foreskin back and forth with just the right amount of pressure.
"This way we can come together," I said. Dan worked my foreskin with
the long strokes he knows I enjoy, covering the blunt nose of my glans
right to the end and then sliding my foreskin all the way back to snap
into the groove behind my rim. Moving it forward, he compressed the nerve
endings in my corona, adding to my excitement as he brought my thick
fleshy hood fully forward again. I felt his thick prick sliding between my
thighs, lightly bumping my scrotum at the end of the forward stroke. He
was actually doing all the work, thrusting his prick and stroking mine, so
he was totally in control. This was good, because he'd know when to stroke
me faster as his excitement mounted, so that we'd reach the peak at about
the same time. I'd developed a technique for perfectly synchronizing our
orgasms, though, and now I reminded him of it:
"Remember; try to
make me come just a bit faster than you think you'll come. That way, when
I'm ready to pop, I'll put my finger down there and hit your hot button to
trigger you." He grunted and picked up the pace of his thrusting, as well
as his strokes on my hardness. Dan was also a lover of long strokes,
sliding his penis almost out from between my thighs as he moved, taking
advantage of every one of the six hard inches that adorned his body.
Our breathing became deeper as our excitement mounted. I reached to
get a towel from the bedside table to catch my sperm. I knew his would be
contained by the condom. We were both somewhat surprised that, despite his
vigorous thrusting during the frenzy of his orgasm, his prick never broke
through the latex.
I was watching him stroke my prick, rolling my
foreskin all the way back and then bringing it forward again, but in my
mind's eye I saw his prick thrusting between my thighs, the big mushroom
head probing deeply, searching for my scrotum to bump with each stroke. My
balls were tight against my body, and I reached back to feel his. They
were tight too, and I knew we were both at about the same level.
His thrusts became more urgent, and his breathing more rapid. His hand
followed his excitement, tightening on my prick while he matched the pace
of his thrusts with his strokes on my foreskin.
"Are you getting a
tickle yet?" I asked. We always communicated well during sex, as we were
eager to enhance each other's pleasure.
"Just starting," was his
reply. We both experienced the same tickling sensation in the glans at the
start of the final stage when our tips went into their final swelling.
"I'm getting it now too," I said.
"I can feel your rim's
really swollen and hard," he informed me. "I know you're right there with
me." He increased the rhythm of his thrusts, and I knew his arousal was
mounting.
His breathing became ragged as he thrust harder, with
faster strokes that slammed his body into my back. My pelvis was being
bumped hard, and this increased my excitement. A film of sweat broke out
between us, and I knew we were close.
"It's really tickling in the
tip," he muttered as he thrust against me. My tickle was strong, having
begun around my rim and gradually spreading to the front dome of my
helmet. My eyes closed as I began to gasp with excitement, and my
awareness of the world outside my body dimmed as my attention increasingly
focused on my raging prick.
Suddenly Dan's strong fingers twisted
my foreskin on the forward stroke, and reversed on the back stroke,
producing a delicious and intense sideways friction on my corona. The
tickle in my helmet exploded, sending hot sparks of sensation down my
shaft, and I remembered to push my index finger between my thighs to press
into the triangular groove on the underside of his swollen mushroom to
trigger his climax.
I cried out as the full flush of orgasm
wracked my body. The first torrent of cream rushed up my prick, its heat
searing my urethra, to slam through the lips of my distended slit. I felt
Dan's prick throb hard between my thighs as he grunted in orgasm. I
tightened my thigh muscles to give him more pressure and stronger
sensations as I felt his glans throbbing against the finger I was pressing
into the hot spot under the head. Pressing into his gee-string never
failed to trigger him when he was red-hot as he was now.
Our pricks
throbbed again, at the same moment, and our bodies strained against each
other as we released another hot load. Our animal grunts filled the air,
inspiring us to discharge again. Now Dan stopped stroking my foreskin
because he knew that my helmet became too sensitive after three loads, but
he kept thrusting hard and I kept my finger pressed into the underside of
his mushroom. We both knew that he was flooding the condom with his cream,
which cushioned the sensations because his glans was swimming in a tide of
sperm.
The root of my prick contracted again, sending another hot
gush pouring into my prick. I knew he'd unloaded another torrent into the
condom because I felt the throb of his prick between my thighs. Dan kept
my foreskin pulled tightly back, stretching the nerve endings in my
gee-string and tugging the front of my glans down with the tension.
Our pricks throbbed several more times, more weakly now, and our jets
became less forceful as our orgasms wound down. Finally we were still,
sinking into the blissful daze of the aftershock. We lay there a long
while, happy with each other, before we went into a long and dreamless
sleep in each other's arms.
The next morning we lay in bed
languidly, in no hurry to get up. I prepared coffee in the kitchen and
brought the carafe and two cups back to the bedroom.
"I'm
wondering about a few things, now that you told me what you really do," I
began. We went to the same school and we're both anteaters. Yet, I was
never approached by your agency's recruiter. I can't figure out why not."
"Fucked if I know, Jack. I never worked in recruiting or personnel.
They don't tell me everything. Information's so compartmentalized I'm
surprised there's so much office gossip anyway."
"Yes, I've heard
something about gossip. That's how Aldrich Ames got most of what he passed
to the Soviets. It wasn't strictly in his line of work, but he picked up a
lot around the water cooler." I sighed.
"Disappointed?" Dan asked
me.
"No, not really. I enjoy what I do. Anyway, with Mark to take
care of, I wouldn't want to risk my life or my freedom in some other
country. Anyway, why did you feel free to tell me what you did yesterday?"
"Oh, the secrecy's over-rated anyway. I'm pretty sure other countries
know all about what we do, anyway. We've been doing it for so long and
they've caught some of our guys over the years."
"Didn't they do a
background check before they hired you?" I asked. "What about your sexual
taste?"
"That was in the old days, around World War II. Then they
thought that homosexuals were vulnerable to blackmail because they had to
hide it. Today, it's acceptable to be gay. The agency doesn't care as long
as you're open about it. As I told you yesterday, I'm not the only one.
The guy with the skin made from his scrotal skin was like us."
"What happened to him?" I asked.
"They used him for other duties.
They never sent him to Eastern Europe." I sipped my coffee thoughtfully.
Will you be going on any more trips to Eastern Europe?" I asked.
I'd begun to worry.
"Yes, I've got one slated for next week. I'm
going to Poland, but it's not too bad. Poland's pretty friendly with us
now. Anyway, they'll think I'm Czech, with the papers I'll be carrying.
I'll leave my American passport in Berlin and use a Czech one to book a
flight to Warsaw." The coffee was distending my bladder and I was sure Dan
was feeling its effects as well.
"I've got to pee," I said. "Want
to take a shower together?" Dan knew exactly what I meant, as we'd known
each other for years and had done this many times. He followed me into the
bathroom, and we stepped into the shower. The hot water stimulated our
sphincters, and when my stream began I pinched the end of my long foreskin
nipple shut. Dan did the same, and our hoods ballooned out with the
pressure.
We let go at the same moment and watched our streams gush
out, splashing onto our legs and the shower floor. Then we pinched our
foreskins again, repeating the exercise until we were drained.
"This is what got my skin unstuck from the head," Dan said after we'd
finished.
"I did this too when I was a kid," I said. "Hell, I do it
now! My father taught me that trick. I guess all the uncut kids did it."
"Did you show that to Mark?" he asked.
"I didn't have to," I
laughed. "He learned it by himself."
We went out for breakfast and
then Dan went home. I picked up Mark at his friend's home. I didn't see
Dan for weeks, and when I phoned, I only got his answering machine.
Two months later, I got a visit from a man with Dan's outfit, the
Foreign Intelligence Support Activity. Jake was about my age, very
affable, but said he had some bad news:
"Your friend Dan didn't
return from the mission to Poland. We're still trying to sort it out."
"I'm surprised that you're telling me this classified stuff," I said.
"I'm not cleared for this information. I've never had a security clearance
in my life."
"I'm telling you because he got a waiver for you. He's
listed you as his significant other." I was surprised and it showed in my
face. I'd never imagined that Dan would specify our relationship in
official paperwork. "You're entitled to know," Jake continued.
"Then you can tell me what you know so far?" I ventured.
"Yes, and
it's not very much. It's certainly not very helpful. Dan was in Warsaw,
and the civil police arrested him. They charged him with fraud, because he
matched the description of a Czech national who had been running a scam in
Poland. As far as we can tell, they don't know what he was carrying. His
mission had been to obtain economic information from one of our agents and
he was carrying it in a microchip, one of the really tiny ones that fit
inside a watch. In fact, this time we disguised it as part of the
circuitry of a quartz watch. We're pretty sure they don't know because
only the civil police are involved, not the security police."
"Don't they have to put him on trial, then?" I asked. "Are there witnesses
who can say that he wasn't the guilty party?"
"These things take
time over there. Hell, they take time over here," Jake explained. "Our
embassy can't do a thing, because officially he's not an American citizen.
We're not going to admit we sent an American citizen into Poland traveling
under a fake passport."
"What about the Czech Embassy? Can they do
anything?"
"The Czechs never heard of him," Jake explained
patiently. "His papers are fake. They won't own up to him and in fact
they've told the Polish Government that Dan isn't who he claims to be,
even though he speaks Czech. You can see it's really a mess." This news
left me even more profoundly unhappy than before. I could anticipate
Jake's conclusion, that there was nothing to be done and that Dan would be
behind bars in Poland indefinitely, perhaps many years.
"Anyway,
thanks for letting me know," I said, anticipating that there was nothing
more to say.
"There's just a bit more, before you ask," Jake said.
"You can't go visit him for two reasons. There must be no hint that he's
American or has ever even lived in America. Also, he's not allowed
visitors. Only fully sentenced inmates serving their sentences are allowed
visitors under their law. Those under investigation or awaiting trial are
held incommunicado."
"Hell, I couldn't go to Poland anyway. I've
got my job to worry about and I have to take care of Mark. He's my son."
"I sympathize with you. We'll keep in touch and let you know about any
developments." With that Jake left.
Jake was true to his word. He
phoned to ask me if he could drop by that evening. Mark again was staying
overnight with a friend and I knew we wouldn't be interrupted. I invited
Jake to come for dinner. Over a meal of rib-eye steak, baked potato, and
salad, he gave me the latest news:
"Dan's in good health, although
he's obviously not a happy camper. We got this from his court-appointed
lawyer, who lucky for us, happens to be very pro-American. He's still
charged with fraud, and we don't know exactly what it is he's supposed to
have done because he really didn't do it."
"It's really nice of you
to take the trouble to keep me informed," I said. "I didn't expect this. I
thought your outfit would just forget about him."
"No, we don't
abandon our people, and I certainly wouldn't. Some years ago Dan and I
were really close. He might have told you about me."
"He never
mentioned your name," I said. "Maybe you can tell me why he might have
mentioned you?"
"I was one of the activity's experimental people,
you might say. I'll guess that Dan told you that he was selected for this
role because he's not circumcised? He told me you're not either, by the
way." I was somewhat surprised at this revelation from someone who was
still a stranger. I nodded and Jake went on:
"I was a candidate for
the courier role because I speak German fluently. I also speak French
fluently. The only hitch was that the doctor cut off my foreskin when I
was born. Dan must have explained to you what that means if you're sent
into certain parts of the world." I nodded again, because my mouth was
full.
"The section chief told me my circumcision was a problem, but
that there was a possibility of doing something about that. A plastic
surgeon had developed a way of reconstructing a foreskin from the skin of
the scrotum and if I volunteered I could have a new foreskin by plastic
surgery. The government would pay all the expenses and I'd receive a
$10,000 bonus for volunteering. I thought I really had nothing to lose,
especially as the chief told me I'd be eligible for a stateside job
anyway." He took a bite of his steak before continuing.
"The whole
procedure took three operations, the first under general anesthesia and
the other two under local. In the end, I had skin over the end of my
penis, but it was scrotal skin that didn't match the rest of the skin. It
was thicker, pebbly in texture, and much darker in color. I should have
known this just from looking at my penis and scrotum before the surgery.
Also, there was a circular scar where the new foreskin was attached to the
shaft skin. Anybody could tell that it didn't look natural." Now I
remembered Dan telling me about Jake.
"I know Dan told me about a
member of his outfit who'd had scrotal graft plastic surgery for a new
foreskin, but he never mentioned your name," I said. Jake took another
mouthful which he chewed before replying:
"Yes, that was me. I hope
you won't be sore when I tell you that we were fascinated by each other. I
really envied what Dan called his anteater, and he was fascinated by my
fake foreskin, because it didn't look natural. He showed me some foreskin
play, and I just loved it." I digested his words for a moment before
replying:
"I can understand your mutual interest very well. Also,
before you ask, it doesn't bother me that you got it on with Dan. We were
apart for several years and we had no commitment to each other. I had sex
with other guys while he was gone, so I have no reason to be jealous."
"Thanks for that, Jack. For a moment, I was afraid to ask."
"Care to tell me what you did together?" I asked. "I'm just curious,
mainly because I've never even seen a restored foreskin."
"I don't
mind telling you at all. Dan was at least as curious as you are, and we
compared. We handled each other's cocks; jacked each other, and then he
docked me." I was slightly surprised hearing this, because Dan and I had
tried docking many years ago, and found that neither of us had room inside
his foreskin for the other's glans.
"Well, I think we ought to show
and tell," I said as I rose and began clearing the table. I was intensely
curious to see his artificial foreskin and not at all shy about telling
him.
"Yes, I'd like that," he agreed. "He told me about your cock,
and I got the impression it's very handsome." I led him to the bedroom,
where we quickly stripped down to the buff, eyes fixed on each other's
crotches.
"I can see where they grafted the skin," I said. "The
front part of your prick is redder than the rest, and it's rougher, like
scrotal skin."
"That's right," he confirmed. "That looks
unnatural, and there's also a thick scar where it joins my shaft-skin.
Even though I've got a foreskin now, I still have a scar ring around my
penis." "Did you find having foreskin over your glans made it more
sensitive?" I asked.
"Oh, it did, it really did," he replied. "My
tip's a lot more sensitive now that it's covered and moist than when it
was dry. However, I don't have much sensation in the skin itself, because
cutting it loose for the graft also cut the nerves. Anyway, yours is just
as handsome as Dan described it. You've got a classic anteater foreskin.
That long nipple looks cute." He reached out to roll my foreskin nipple
between thumb and index finger. The effect was immediate and I felt my
prick swelling. I clasped the big bulge in his foreskin and began
squeezing his glans. I could feel that his reconstructed foreskin was
considerably thicker than my natural one, because scrotal skin has a thick
layer of smooth muscle inside it. "You've got a big head inside that
foreskin," I commented. "I like that."
"So do you," he said. My
prick was now fully erect and his nearly so. We sat on the edge of the bed
as we continued to fondle each other's pricks. "Each time you squeeze, it
makes my cock-root twitch," he continued.
"Dan and I did that to
each other a lot," I explained.
"He did it to me," Jake said. "I
really got a thrill handling his uncut cock and making it shoot. I didn't
have to pump it too hard because it was so sensitive, just slide the skin
slowly up and down the big head. I guess I can do the same to you." He
began sliding my foreskin up and down in short strokes as he spoke.
"Yes, that feels very good, and yes, you'll make me come that way." I
lay back on an elbow, willing to give him the experience of making me
come, as he was fascinated by my prick. I guessed watching my prick shoot
and feeling it throb would enhance his excitement as well.
"I like
the shape of your helmet," he said as he slowly drew my foreskin down
until it snapped into the deep groove behind the head. "It's a lot like
mine." I still held on to his prick as he sat beside me working on mine,
and now I uncapped his engorged glans and saw that it was the same size
and shape as mine, with the same flaring rim. Unlike mine, his slit did
not pout with erection, something which provoked his comment:
"I
like the way your slit forms a teardrop shape when your tip swells. I
don't see that often." Now I had his helmet fully naked, the foreskin
gathered behind the rim in a thick fleshy ring larger than the corona.
"That new foreskin forms a really thick ring behind the head," I said.
"I can feel how it locks in place because of your high corona." I was
having trouble collecting my thoughts because the sensations from my prick
were starting to dominate my consciousness. Jake sensed this, and he
increased the pace of his strokes slightly. This brought a new wave of
sensations into my prick, and I stopped speaking. I did, however, pull his
foreskin up over his helmet, the tightness compressing the nerve endings
as it rode over his corona.
"Just lay back, Jack," he urged. "Let
me do it to you like I did it to Dan. Just relax and let it happen." I had
stopped stroking him, but still clasped my fingers around his warm prick
as the sensations built up in mine.
"Your tip's gotten harder now,
and the color's darker. I think you're getting a tickle in the head, now,"
he said. I nodded, aware that a strong tickle had begun in my corona as he
kept sliding the foreskin over it, and I felt the gentle pressure of his
encircling fingers with each stroke.
"Your hole's leaking fluid,
Jack," he said. "That's keeping your skin pretty lubricated." His
insistent fingers continued to pour sensations into my prick, and I knew
that he'd have my load pretty soon.
"Your balls are tight against
your body now," he continued as he worked my foreskin up and down. I felt
a sudden jolt of new sensations as he twisted his fist on my prick,
driving my foreskin sideways around the helmet. My breathing was becoming
ragged.
"That really hit you, didn't it?" he asked, already knowing
the answer. The tickle in my helmet had become more intense and had spread
from my corona all through to the front dome. I was really breathing hard
now, enjoying his magic fingers tickling my nerve endings, and I became
less aware of my surroundings as my mind focused on my prick. The tickle
became a hot tingle, and I knew I was on the edge.
"Here you go,
Jack," he said as the tingle in my helmet exploded, sending hot sparks of
sensation stabbing down my shaft, and the root of my prick responded in a
hard contraction.
"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" I grunted as the first hot
stream shot up my urethra. His warm fingers twisted my foreskin again, and
my prostate released another jet that burned its way up my tube, making me
cry out in delighted agony. I grunted again as a third spasm gripped my
lower body, my prick throbbing as another gush poured from my gaping
orifice.
Now I felt his strong fingers pull my foreskin all the way
down, leaving my helmet naked as it expelled another torrent of cream. He
held my foreskin back, giving it rhythmic tugs, to keep my orgasm going
without touching the head, which I think he sensed had become
super-sensitive. I ejaculated several more times as my orgasm faded;
finally just dribbling until I'd drained myself.
I lay quietly,
utterly drained and torpid, for several minutes as my erection subsided. I
felt Jake's gentle fingers sliding my foreskin up to cover the precious
head.
"I felt every throb of your cock in my fingers when you shot.
How was it for you?" Jake's voice came to me. I opened my eyes and pulled
him down to me, planting a dry kiss on his lips and hugging him. I was
aware of the pool of cream on my stomach and in my pubic hair, sticking to
him as he lay on top of me.
"It was mind-blowing," I answered. "Now
I'm going to do you." I still clasped his prick, its hardness between us,
and I gave it a gentle squeeze.
"Can you dock me?" he asked.
"That's what Dan and I did. I made him come first, so that he'd lose his
erection, and then there'd be enough room inside his skin for my helmet."
He got off me and lay on his side, and I rolled over to face him. I held
him so that the ends of our pricks touched, and gently pushed his foreskin
back until it gathered in a thick fleshy ring behind his rim.
"Here, hold your prick steady," I instructed him as I let go. Now I
grasped the edges of my long foreskin with both hands and stretched out
the orifice. Jake eased his prick forward and the blunt nose of his helmet
slipped into my hood. I pushed myself toward him slightly and pulled my
foreskin all the way over his head, engulfing it completely. Now I clamped
the fingers of my right hand around the end of my foreskin, holding it in
place around his drawn-back hood.
I felt his hot hard helmet
pressing against my limp and shrunken one as he began thrusting gently. I
twisted my fist to give him the delicious sideways sensations that rapidly
brought on orgasm. I felt his hardness throb inside my hood as he reacted.
We stared into each other's eyes as I felt his excitement
mounting. Connected by our pricks, we were perfectly in tune, and I knew
that Jake would have a thunderous orgasm, as he was already primed by the
vicarious excitement of having made me come.
"Lots of room inside
your skin," he remarked as he continued to thrust gently, driving his
glans against mine. With the core of my prick totally shrunken, there was
ample room inside my long hood to accommodate his helmet, which was the
same bulk as mine. I felt the sharp outline of his flaring corona through
my foreskin as it moved. The inside of my hood was well lubricated by my
lube and my sperm, softening the friction, and I knew that this would make
him last longer before he lost control and spent himself inside me.
"I'll be shooting my jizz into your skin soon," he whispered
expectantly. "It feels so good and warm inside your skin."
"Just
relax and enjoy the ride, Jake. I want it to be good for you." His
breathing was getting heavier, and I knew his excitement was mounting. The
smile faded from his face as he got deeper into the ride, and I was glad I
was able to give him one of the sublime experiences of his life.
Each thrust drove his glans hard against mine, and I hoped that the
repeated ramming action wouldn't make me hard again before he'd finished.
I knew there wasn't enough room for two big helmets inside my hood.
Jake was now breathing through his mouth, sucking in the air he so
badly needed, and he exhaled with grunts. I kept working my foreskin
sideways around his thrusting glans to fuel his fire, and I felt his
helmet become harder and fuller through the skin. Although I couldn't see
it, I knew its color had deepened with congested blood.
I enjoyed
the beauty of the moment, vicariously sharing his excitement and knowing
that soon he'd become lost in sensation as I'd been minutes before. I
listened to his heavy breathing as I watched his eyes close, and knew that
his load would be mine any second. I felt the tension in his body,
transmitted to me by the hot thrusts of his prick inside my foreskin.
I heard him cry out at the moment of release, just as I felt his hot
hard helmet hammering against mine, a moment before he flooded my foreskin
with a torrent of hot juice. The hard jet splashed against the front of my
glans and then swirled around inside my foreskin, over and behind my rim.
He cried out again as I felt his glans throb, and another gush poured from
his slit into my hood. I felt his helmet throbbing against my glans and in
my encircling fingers as he discharged again, the liquid distending my
foreskin. Now his glans was swimming in cream, and I knew there was no
danger of excess friction. I eased my grip to let some cream escape as he
poured another load into my hood.
He was grunting hard, hips
bucking in the frenzy of orgasm, his body straining against mine as he
emptied himself into my foreskin. We were both sweating, caught up in the
excitement of the moment, as his turgid tip bathed mine in liquid fire.
Hot liquid seeped from under my foreskin and over my trembling, encircling
fingers as I felt his orgasm begin to fade. I felt the weaker, dying
throbs as he spent himself, draining his tanks as I'd done minutes ago.
Jake lay unmoving, his prick tip shrinking inside my foreskin, as he
sank into his daze. I then realized that, as his orgasm had faded, my
prick had started swelling again, as I'd been caught up in the vicarious
excitement. Now we were both still, enjoying the afterglow, and I felt
very satisfied that I'd given him what he'd yearned for.
We were
both feeling very relaxed as he opened his eyes.
With our pricks
limp, we were able to snuggle up close and hug. He kissed me passionately
on both cheeks, forehead, and lips.
"I really loved that," he
said.
"I loved doing it for you, Jake."
"Shooting inside
your skin was such a thrill, Jack."
"I felt every load you shot," I
said. "I felt every throb of your prick head against mine. I'm so glad
you're here."
"I'm glad I came," he said.
"I'm glad you
came, in both senses," I replied.
"We're both pretty wet," he said.
"Can we take a shower?" I nodded.
"Help me change the bed," I said
as he sat up. "We can't sleep in this." We gathered up the soggy sheets
and then placed new ones on the bed before going into the bathroom. We
luxuriated under the hot water, enjoying the sheer sensuality of it,
letting the flow rinse the sweat from our bodies.
The hot water
flowing over my prick stimulated the urge to pee, and I pinched the end of
my foreskin nipple as I relaxed my sphincter. Jake saw me and immediately
pulled his foreskin down to cover his glans, as it had remained locked
behind the rim even as he'd lost his erection. He pinched his too, and we
watched our hoods swell with the pressure.
When mine was completely
distended, I let go, and the resulting gush poured over our legs. A second
later he released his, splashing over us and falling down to the drain. We
pinched our hoods again until our foreskins were full and again let go,
with the same results.
"Dan showed that to me," he said.
"We'd both been doing that since we were kids," I explained. "Boys learn
to do that before they learn to masturbate."
"Not cut boys," he
said ruefully. I sympathized with him.
He'd been the victim of a
pernicious practice that had mutilated millions of American males over the
years.
"Well, at least you've got something back," I consoled him.
He stepped closer to me and we hugged under the hot spray. After about
five minutes of nuzzling and caressing, we shut off the water, got dry,
and went to bed.
After a deep sleep we got up early next morning.
Jake had to go to work and I had to pick up Mark and take him to school.
Jake promised to contact me if anything new developed with Dan.
I
didn't hear anything for two months, but then Jake called me to say that
Dan was on his way home. I asked him how he'd arranged that.
"Oh, I
didn't arrange it. One of our people in Poland did. Basically, there was
no evidence to Hold Dan, but nobody wanted to release him, either. It came
down to bribery. Handing some cash to a judge got an order for Dan's
release. I know it's not like James Bond stuff, but it's a lot safer." He
promised to bring Dan directly to my place once he got off the plane two
days from now. As it happened, Mark was away at camp for the month, and I
was confident we would not be disturbed.
That day I shopped for
steaks and side dishes, and was ready to prepare dinner when Dan and Jake
arrived. Jake's car pulled up at four, and I held the door while they came
in. Dan had only a small suitcase with him, and explained that although
he'd been released, the polish police were still holding all of his
possessions, including his clothing, as "evidence."
"They even
confiscated my watch, my digital voice recorder, and my clothing,
including underwear," explained Dan. We had to stop and buy me clothing
before going to the airport. All I was wearing was my prison uniform. I
wouldn't even have had that except that the guy who escorted me to the
airport bribed a guard."
"Hell, be glad they didn't confiscate the
skin off your cock," laughed Jake.
"No, even the corrupt Polish
cops wouldn't do that," Dan laughed. "That's going too far, even for
them." I began fixing drinks while we sat in the kitchen.
"I'm glad
to have you back," I said fervently as I handed Dan his drink.
"The
mission wasn't a total failure," said Jake. "We did get Dan back, although
we lost the material."
"There was a little chip hidden in the
digital voice recorder, explained Dan. "That chip held about 100 Gig of
data. The cops never suspected it was there, but it's in their hands now,
probably forever."
"We'll get the data out somehow," said Jake.
"We'll send someone else, or maybe just have it sent out through the
mail.”100 Gig is too much to send by burst transmission to a satellite,"
added Dan. "That much would take hours to send, and their electronic
emission control people would become aware of it." I prepared dinner while
they elaborated on the events, and soon we sat down to eat. After we'd
finished and I'd cleared the table, Dan said:
"Jake told me you and
he did a comparison while I was gone." He didn't appear jealous or
resentful, merely amused.
"Yes, we did," I admitted. "I think we
both needed it to relieve the tension."
"But it was very pleasant
while you were relieving the tension," he countered with a wicked grin.
"Too bad you weren't here," I said. "I really wish you had been."
"Well, I'm here now," Dan said suggestively and without subtlety.
"I'm glad you are," I said as I drew him to me and hugged him. "I
missed you."
"So did I," added Jake.
"Let's get undressed
and we'll make up for lost time," I urged. We did just that in the
bedroom, and arranged ourselves on the bed facing each other.
"When
was the last time you guys came?" asked Jake. "I jacked myself just last
week."
"I did too," I replied, and then we looked expectantly at
Dan, who said:
"I didn't get a chance for any sexual release while
locked up. I think I had a wet dream a month ago."
"Then you go
first!" exclaimed Jake as he clasped Dan's foreskin nipple and pulled on
it gently. Dan's prick immediately began to fill out, evidence of his
burning need for release. I snuggled closer to Dan and cupped his balls,
feeling them contract in my hand. Jake shifted his grip and began drawing
Dan's hood back over the swollen head, bringing the leaking aperture into
view. "His slit's really leaking," Jake observed.
"I can smell the
aroma," I added. Dan's rich masculine odor emanated from his wet foreskin
and mushroom, filling the air. Jake pulled down harder on Dan's hood, now
baring the entire swollen mushroom. We saw a steady stream of clear fluid
seeping through Dan's slit, parting the lips slightly, and draining down
the glans and onto Jake's enveloping fingers.
"I can't hold my
grip on his skin," Jake said. "It's too wet."
"Okay, then work
directly on the head with your fingertips," I advised. Jake held Dan's
prick upright with his left hand while he began caressing the contours of
Dan's hard, swollen mushroom with the fingertips of his right hand. This
direct action on Dan's superheated system had an immediate effect. Dan
began moaning and gasping, and I knew the sensations were very intense for
him. Given the length of time he'd been building up sperm in his system, I
thought he'd be discharging within seconds.
Dan flopped back on the
bed, completely mesmerized by the intense sensations in his engorged tip.
His hips bucked and he gasped loudly, as each of Jake's delicate caresses
on his straining glans was a shock to his system.
"His tip's
really hard now," Jake commented.
"Look at how dark it's gotten,"
I added. "You'll make him shoot any second. He really needs to go." Jake
continued to work his fingertips around Dan's mushroom, caressing the
corona, tracing small circles around the slit, and rubbing the front dome
with the flats of his fingertips.
"You're doing fine," I coached
him. "Just keep your fingers moving. Don't stay in one spot because that
tires out the nerve endings." Jake's fingers danced all over Dan's
mushroom, which glistened in its wetness. Now Dan's cries became more
high-pitched, and his entire body tensed. I saw his eyes close just as he
yelped in release.
A thick gob of white cream shot from his slit,
arcing high in the air, and the powerful chlorine odor of his sperm filled
the air. I felt a powerful throb in my fingertips where they pressed into
the skin behind his scrotum. Dan yelped again, crying out in mindless joy,
as a second stream erupted from his dark red tip. We watched a third
geyser slam through the lips of his slit to land on his stomach. The
volume of his pent up semen was astounding, because I'd never seen him
discharge so much.
Both Jake and I were caught up in the excitement
of watching Dan's explosion. I felt my prick twitch with excitement, fully
erect although nobody was touching it. Jake's fingers continued to work on
Dan's straining mushroom head, bringing forth another hard jet and making
Dan screech. Dan's hips bucked in the frenzy of his orgasm, and I said to
Jake:
"Stop rubbing the head. He's too sensitive." Jake immediately
stopped but continued to grip Dan's shaft, holding the foreskin tightly
stretched down. Dan's engorged purple glans erupted again, not as far this
time, although Dan continued to writhe in mindless joy. Dan's next
discharge was weaker yet, and we knew he was coming to the end.
Now
Dan's discharges had settled down to a steady drool, and his yelps had
faded to gasps as he caught his breath. His eyes were still tightly shut,
but we saw the tension gradually leaving his body. Jake released Dan's
penis, and it flopped back onto his stomach, still seeping fluid.
Jake and I let Dan lie still as we hugged each other, awed by the beauty
of what we'd just witnessed. We relaxed, although our pricks were still
erect. I felt we should take a breather and let the tension subside. I
enjoyed the feel of Jake's warm body against mine, and we lay down, face
to face, our pricks between our stomachs, throbbing against each other.
"Wow! That was earth-shattering," were the first words we heard
from Dan. We looked over at him, and Jake reached out to replace his
foreskin over the head, confident that the super-sensitivity had faded.
Dan took a towel from the bedside table and wiped the pools of cream from
his body, although a couple of drops oozed down onto the sheet.
"I'd been saving it up for over a month, guys. I really had a load there,"
he said. "Once your fingers touched the head of my cock, Jake, I was
gone."
"You certainly blew a heavy load," I said.
"Man, your
tip was throbbing," Jake added. "I felt it right in my fingers."
"I
got really sensitive for a second," Dan said. "I felt like my insides were
being torn apart but it felt so good."
"We noticed that," I said.
"You really blasted your cream right then. That was a powerful jet."
"I haven't had an orgasm like that since a guy with a really long
foreskin docked me years ago," Dan said. We looked at him with interest
and he continued:
"He had a really long nipple, as long as his cock
and it dangled off the head even when he was hard. You know how big my
head is, and he was able to take it all the way. It was long enough to
allow some long stroking, and he jacked our cocks while they were head to
head. He had a big head like mine, and his skin was narrow, so the skin
held them end to end. Our heads didn't slide over each other. He also had
a small slit. I'd seen him shoot before, and the come shot out of that
small hole like a Water Pik, at high pressure."
"Did you come
together?" Jake interrupted.
"Almost," Dan said. "Close enough for
government work. His tip was even more sensitive than mine, and I felt it
throb hard against mine when he started coming. I guess our slits were
right opposite each other for a moment, because when he came I felt the
jet of hot juice drilling right down my hole. It was so hot it felt like
it was burning, and then I was coming too. Our tips were shooting hard
against each other, we were holding on to each other, and we filled his
foreskin until it poured out the end, all over my shaft."
"You mean
his ejaculation into you triggered your climax?" I asked. I hadn't known
this because he'd never told me about that episode.
"Hell, yes,"
Dan confirmed. "He shot right down my urethra, and it was like a Water
Pik, hot and powerful. The moment that hit me inside, I lost it. I just
started creaming until I was drained."
"Awesome," Jake whispered.
"I wish something like that happened to me."
"Me, too," I chimed
in. "Well, we've all had different experiences."
"Look at us. We're
still hard," Jake commented to me. "Just talking about it kept us hard."
He reached for my prick and clasped the pucker at the end of my foreskin.
"All of us have enough skin to cover the head even when we're hard,"
Dan observed. "Even you, Jake. The plastic surgeon put a lot of skin on
your cock to make up for what you'd lost."
"He didn't, really,"
answered Jake. "I just had enough to keep the head covered when soft. I
worked at stretching it to get the extra length. Anyway, that's mainly for
looks. The new skin isn't very sensitive."
"Your tip's a lot more
sensitive, though. Isn't it?" asked Dan.
"It really is," said Jake.
"I get more intense comes now that my tip's more sensitive. It's even too
sensitive sometimes, like when I come. I'm like you guys in that way." Dan
listened to Jake speaking, and then turned to me.
"Do you still
have that buddy sleeve?" he asked. I knew what he meant. The buddy sleeve
is a soft plastic sleeve, or tube, wide enough to accommodate our
erections. We used it to simulate docking, because even with our long
foreskins we'd been unable to take each other's glans when we were both
hard. I opened the bottom drawer of the bedside table and extracted the
buddy sleeve. Dan turned to Jake again.
"Do you want to use that?"
he asked. He didn't have to explain the purpose of the sleeve, as it was
plainly obvious.
"I'd love it," Jake replied with alacrity. He'd
immediately sensed the implications, for he added: "That way, we can both
be hard and feel each other's tips throbbing when we come." Boosted by
Jake's enthusiastic response I squirted some Astroglide into the sleeve
and lay down facing him.
"Just lie next to me and we'll slip this
on our pricks," I said. Jake lay facing me as I held the sleeve between
us, and he drew his foreskin back to expose the turgid helmet. Then he
inserted his hard prick into his end, pushing forward until he filled half
the tube. I reached down to slide back my foreskin until it lodged in the
deep groove behind my rim. Now I thrust my hips forward, slipping my prick
into the other half. Lubricated by the Astroglide, my erection slid in
easily until the blunt front dome of my prick pressed against Jake's. At
the contact, I felt a little tingle in the root of my prick that told me
I'd just secreted a drop of lubricant, which was now crawling up my tube.
Jake sighed deeply. “That feels good," he said. "Going head to head with
another guy is just heaven." I felt the same way, as I felt the heat from
his hot hard glans penetrating mine. We both began to thrust slightly,
bumping the blunt noses of our helmets together and then withdrawing. I
had wrapped the fingers of my right hand around the sleeve and now
maintained a slight pressure to produce friction as our swollen tips slid
within the tube.
"I'm not squeezing too hard, am I?" I asked Jake.
"I don't want us to come too fast."
"No, you're just perfect," he
said as he gently thrust his prick forward to meet mine in the center of
the tube. The pressure of his helmet against the front of mine gently
compressed the nerve endings, and I sighed in delight at the sensation.
"The longer you stay at it, the more intense it'll feel when you
finally explode," Dan coached.
"We know," I said as I matched Jake
thrust for gentle thrust, reveling in the erotic sensations of being head
to head with him inside that magic tube. Jake and I stared at each other's
faces as we continued our little dance, focusing on each other as well as
on the delicious sensations in our pricks. I felt a definite sensation of
heat emanating from his prick, enclosed with mine in the tube and
surrounded by my fingers. The heat sensitized the nerve endings in my
glans even more, and I wondered which of us would explode first.
"Can I hold the tube?" Dan asked me. I realized he wasn't satisfied being
merely a passive witness, but wanted to participate actively. Without
speaking I removed my hand and he wrapped the fingers of his left hand
around the tube right over our tips. I looked over and saw that his right
hand was working the foreskin of his swelling prick.
"I'm getting
horny again just watching you," he explained. "Anyway, one come wasn't
enough after months of abstinence. I need to bust a nut again."
"Bust it with us," Jake urged. "It'll be really nice if all three of us
come at the same time." This seemed unlikely to me, as that degree of
synchronization was almost impossible, but even if we came within seconds
of each other, sharing the magic moment, it would be very gratifying.
"Oh, gee, I really need to blow again," Dan said as his prick attained
full erection. Jake and I looked at him, and then at each other, realizing
that our excitement fueled each other's fire. Dan was hot from feeling our
thrusting pricks inside the sleeve and our arousal was augmented by the
sight of him becoming excited again.
"Take it easy, Dan," I
warned. "You want to make it last."
"I know," he said. "I'll be
slower this time." I knew he was right. Men are always slower the second
time around. I saw that Dan's right hand was stroking his hood in a slow,
measured pace, and he was resisting the temptation to speed the process. I
returned my attention to Jake's prick, pressing against mine on each
forward thrust. We were well synchronized, thrusting together to meet in
the middle on each stroke. Dan's left hand was merely applying light
pressure to stabilize the buddy sleeve.
"I can feel your head's
getting harder," Jake whispered. "Both of you are getting harder," Dan
commented. "I can feel your rims swelling inside the tube." Dan was in the
best position to monitor our rising excitement, as our helmets went into
the final swelling of the plateau before orgasm.
"Let's slow a
little," I suggested. Jake and I slowed the rhythm of our thrusts, and I
saw Dan's hand also slow on his penis, taking long strokes at a deliberate
pace. The lubricant was overflowing from his slit, however, and I knew he
wouldn't be able to control himself for long. If the wetness made him lose
his firm grip on his foreskin, he'd have to stimulate his mushroom with
his hand, and that would make him pop immediately, as we'd found out
during our long experience together.
"This is really hot," Jake
whispered, and then leaned forward to kiss me on the lips. "I just love
doing this with you." I felt the same way, and told him so, after kissing
him back.
"I'm glad to be a part of it too," murmured Dan, his hand
still working his long foreskin in measured strokes that took it all the
way up to form a pucker, and then down to stretch out behind his rim,
baring the groove that rarely saw the light of day. Dan's prick glistened
in the soft room light, slippery with lubricant that had overflowed his
foreskin and was not wetting his fingers.
"My tip's really hot,"
Jake whispered. "I don't know how long I can hold off." I squeezed his
hand and said: "I don't know either. Let's just let things happen. We're
all together on this, and anything that happens is fine." He squeezed me
back, just as Dan moaned loudly. His foreskin had lodged behind his high
corona, and was too slippery to let him work it forward again. His big
mushroom now felt the contact of his trembling encircling fingers, and I
saw his hips buck.
"He's going for it," I said to Jake at the same
moment that I felt Dan's fingers tighten on the sleeve. This produced an
immediate strong tickle in my glans, and from the way Jake's eyes widened,
I knew it had done the same to him. We now had no time for words. Jake and
I began thrusting hard; sure that Dan would explode within seconds and
knowing that the tightness of his grip around the tube would force our
orgasms soon. I felt the familiar hot tingle spreading from my rim to the
front dome of my helmet as Jake's tip pressed hard against it in a hot
rhythm.
"AAAAAHHHH!" Dan cried as I saw a long white jet erupt from
his slit, splashing over Jake and me because he was facing us. His fist
went into a convulsive grip around our straining tips inside the sleeve,
and I felt Jake's helmet throb hard against mine as we both exploded. Jake
and I were totally caught up in the frenzy of orgasm, and we thrust hard
against each other, bathing each other's helmet in the hot ejaculate. I
felt our mixed fluids swirling around and behind my rim as I shot again.
Jake's hot hard helmet hammered the front of mine as another hot gush
poured from his slit, its heat stimulating the front of my tip. Another
convulsion deep inside me sent another torrent of cream erupting from my
gaping teardrop to splash against his throbbing, thrusting helmet.
Both our throbbing tips were swimming in lubricant and hot cream
inside the tube, as Jake and I moaned in ecstasy. My eyes were closed but
I still heard Dan moaning as his orgasm continued. The three of us were
lost in the torrent of sensations, the tide overwhelming us and blanking
out our minds as our pricks throbbed in release. We moaned, gasped, and
grunted until we were drained, and then we collapsed against each other,
feeling each other's warmth, as we sank into a pleasant stupor.
Many minutes later we began to revive. I spoke first: "This was a terrific
way of celebrating your return, Dan. Thanks to Jake for what he did too."
"Thanks to a couple of our guys in Poland too," said Jake. "They did
the tricky part."
"I know," I said. "Anyway, I'm glad you're here,
Jake. It was more fun with you."
"Thanks for inviting me to the
party. You two hot guys really made my day."
"We'll have other days
too," I said as I got up and led the way to the shower.
NOTE:
Please do not take this fictional story as a slur against Poland or the
Polish criminal justice system. The incompetence and venality of the
fictional police and judiciary in this story was necessary to the plot,
and is not meant as a reflection on the decent and hard-working real-life
counterparts.