All in Good Time

All in Good Time By Jackinnm@yahoo.com

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

I'm gay, unreservedly so. This was the major qualification for my selection for the project.

A man from the Department of State walked into my office that Friday morning without an appointment. I'm a consulting engineer, and work alone, without even a secretary, so he had no trouble getting a private hour with me.

As I discovered later, he was not really from the State Department, the post being merely a cover for his real function, a recruiter for a secret government project. This involved a "time machine" in an effort to project me into the past.

Why me? As he'd explained, his agency had conducted a secret search for prospects. Candidates had to be first of all adventurous, because the project was so imaginative that nobody had ever done it before and the consequences and dangers were simply unknown. There wasn't enough money in the world to hire a conservative and cautious person to allow himself to be projected into the past with no guarantee that he'd ever return, and only a basic and limited knowledge of what he'd find.

Candidates also had to be intelligent enough to understand the nature of the project, and to cooperate fully with the experimenters. They also had to display good judgment in order not to make mistakes that would endanger themselves or the project. It was essential not to change the past, as the consequences would be unforeseeable. Nobody knew what might happen if the time traveler changed the past or how it would have an impact on the modern world, although it wasn't hard to guess at some possible scenarios. Killing someone, however well justified, would remove all of the victim's descendents from the modern world. Fathering a child would introduce a new element as well, with unknown consequences, hence the requirement of homosexuality. As I had absolutely no sexual interest in women, the chances of my bringing a child into the world were nil.

Another qualification was the ability to break with the present. As I had no wife or children, was an only child, and both parents were dead, there wouldn't be many people wondering about my disappearance. My friends would know only that I'd left to take up a job overseas.

Intrigued by the lure of an almost unimaginable adventure as a change from my relatively dull life, I agreed to wind up my business and join the project. Within a month I was at a secret government facility in Arizona formerly used by the CIA for training to learn the basic principles behind the project.

Modern theoretical physics had established that both time and space are relative, and that the past co-exists with both the present and future. This made it theoretically possible to sideslip into the past or future. The project's purpose was to determine if a human being could be thrown into another time, slipping across time in both spirit and body. In short, the idea was to see if fact matched theory.

The scientists running the project had determined that the attempt would be to project me into the past. The reason was obvious. The past was known, but the future was almost unpredictable, thereby lessening my chances of survival. In the future, I might land in the middle of a nuclear war, or an invasion by space aliens, to name only two possibilities. A less dramatic, but more realistic, possibility was that there might be a new disease against which I had no immunity. Most of all, there was no way to prepare me for a future world, but the past was a known quantity. Dr. Ellis, a physicist my age, 30, explained the simple facts to me. He was also very attractive and gay, and after hours we got it on. Later, I would wonder if his job was also to test me and verify that I was truly gay.

Using the "time machine," it might even be possible to send me back to a specific year, or even a specific date. Where I'd end up was much less certain. Nobody had any way of controlling geographical location where I'd land. The safest bet was to begin the experiment in the same locale as the target area, on the assumption that I'd end up in that part of the Earth, but earlier in time. Returning to my own time would not be as easy. However, Dr. Ellis said they would plant a "survival kit" for me in Central Park, where it would be easy to find and dig up. The place chosen was New York City, as I was familiar with it, and had lived there most of my life. After a month of familiarization about living conditions in the New York of 1880, I was ready. I'd been given clothing of that era and a supply of money. Then I went with a crew to an apartment in Manhattan. The process for me was simple and painless, as I stepped into the chamber and walked through the "time portal."

Suddenly I was walking down 1880 Fifth Avenue, and I recognized it immediately from the old photographs I'd seen. There was a hotel nearby, and I booked a room for a base of operations.

I walked into the old-fashioned bathroom to pee. Compared to modern fixtures these were large. Low-flush toilets weren't even a dream back in 1880, and many toilets simply drained into a cesspool under the building.

I unbuttoned my pants (Zippers were not to be invented until the 20th Century) and when I'd gotten the last button undone I reached in through my underwear for my penis. I didn't notice it at first, but my penis felt slightly bulkier, thicker. I looked up at the ceiling and consciously relaxed my sphincter. I suddenly became aware of a hot rush around the head of my cock, and when I looked down I couldn't see the head at all, just its bulge showing through a thick sleeve of flesh. The skin was wrinkled, continuous with the skin of my shaft and ending in a long rubbery snout beyond the head from which urine was dribbling. I wasn't circumcised!

Like most American boys born in 1990, my penis had suffered the bite of the knife a couple of days after birth because the money-hungry doctor was seeking to earn a trip to Hawaii or pay off his Mercedes. As long as I could remember, I'd seen my penis with its bare helmet-shaped head ahead of a thick brown scar ring, the remaining skin stretched tightly along the shaft. I'd often wondered wistfully what my foreskin would have looked like if it hadn't been amputated uselessly in the frenzy of a medical fad. Now I knew.

I cautiously drew my long foreskin back to bare the front part of my helmet, careful not to let the stream splash onto my pants. I saw that my glans was a glossy deep purple, unlike the dry and grayish purple hue I'd known all my life. The surface was moist and sensitive, and the feeling of drawing my foreskin back for urination was unmistakably erotic.

Now I realized that I was truly a creature of the past. In my new role I'd been born in 1850, a time when foreskin amputation was unknown among Americans except for a tiny religious minority. A foreskin was the norm. If anyone had seen me naked and circumcised, it would have aroused curiosity.

As I pushed my penis back into my pants, I experienced a feeling of profound tenderness in the glans, and realized that I hadn't pulled my foreskin fully over the head. My glans was exquisitely sensitive, unlike the dried out one I'd lived with all my life.

I made sure the door to my room was locked and stripped down, eager to explore my new sensations. I'd had sexual experiences with a few uncut guys, and had an idea of how to handle a foreskin. As I began sliding my fleshy hood up and down my now-hard prick, I was glad that I'd been given a long foreskin, as this allowed a deliciously long stroke. Hot sparks of sensation stabbed deeply into my glans as my pace increased without my thinking about it, driven by the hot tingle I felt in my glans. Within a minute I saw red flashes as my penis and cock-root exploded in the most intense orgasm of my life.

My penis remained too sensitive to touch for a couple of minutes, but finally I was able to milk my residual drops and dab the end of my glans with my handkerchief (Kleenex had not been invented) before an exhausted sleep came over me.

When I awoke it was dark, and I reflected on the quirks of time travel. I not only was in the 19th Century, but I had the physical characteristics of someone born then. I examined myself and saw that not only had my circumcision scar vanished, but my appendectomy scar had also gone. My arms had no vaccination scars. Mentally, I was as before. I had all my memory. The revision seemed to have affected only me. The clothing I'd been wearing and the contents of my pockets were exactly the same as before I'd stepped through the portal.

Dressing once more, I wandered out into the street, taking a horse-drawn bus for the theater district. When I got off, I saw a restaurant in front of me and realized that I had not eaten since lunch and it was now about nine. The maitre'd informed me that all tables were booked for the next two hours. I slipped him a bill and said that I'd be willing to share a table if possible. He said he'd see what he could do, and within five minutes he returned and led me to a table. A fellow of about my age was already seated, and he introduced himself as "Eric."

The maitre'd probably thought he'd played a joke on me, for Eric was definitely swishy. He was a bit player in a theater production, which didn't surprise me because in 1880s New York he wouldn't have fit in as a longshoreman. With all that, Eric and I quickly warmed to each other and when we'd finished Eric invited me to his room, which was nearby, saying he felt lonely.

"I hope you'll stay the night," Eric said as he began removing his clothes. I followed his lead and soon we stood inspecting each other. Eric was about four inches shorter than my six feet, and slightly thinner. As we climbed into the double bed I noticed his penis had a shorter and thinner foreskin than mine, and the dime-sized opening at the end revealed the front of his purple glans and his slit. I would have been very surprised if he'd been circumcised, although this had been the norm in what I was beginning to think of as my former life. My most recent sexual contact, Dr. Ellis, had definitely been circumcised. Eric pushed the covers down to our knees, as it wasn't cold in the room, and snuggled against me.

"How big does yours get?" he asked without preamble as I felt the warmth of his body pressing against mine.

"About six," I replied. "Yours?"

"About five and a half," he said. I felt his fingers rolling the nipple of my foreskin, sending electric thrills into my cock. "Yours has a lot of skin. More fun to play with." I responded by tweaking his glans through the fleshy covering, feeling it quickly swelling to match my growing erection. We were responding strongly to each other and I was trembling slightly with excitement. So was he. We looked down at our crotches.

"Your balls hang low," I commented.

"Not for long" was his reply. "You really excite me."

"Mine are always somewhat tight," I added.

""Your skin covers the tip even now that you're hard," he said. "That's very sexy."

"Yours is halfway back," I said. "Does it always slip back on its own?"

"Yes, always. That makes it easier to suck," he said. "You can push it the rest of the way back with your lips." I was glad he'd said that, clearly expressing his preference. I didn't know what it was called during that are, and my saying "oral" might have seemed anachronistic.

"How about yours?" he asked, bringing my thoughts back to the present. "Does yours go back or is it too tight. Tell me so that I won't hurt you."

I hesitated, struggling to describe my unfamiliar new prick: "It's thick and tight, but it goes back. You can use your fingers or lips. I'd really like to feel your tongue inside my foreskin." Eric nimbly swiveled to a "69" position and I saw his prick inches in front of my eyes. The heavy odor of his masculinity hit my nostrils, and my prick twitched. I felt him drawing back my foreskin enough to bare the slit. My prick twitched in response.

"Want me to stick a finger in your ass?" he asked, surprising me.

"No, I don't go for that," I answered. % 93But if you want me to do it to you, that's all right."

"No, I don't care for that either," he replied.

"Good. We're on the same wavelength," I said.

"We're what?" he asked, a note of surprise in his voice. I then realized that the term "wavelength" was meaningless to someone who had never heard of radio, TV, microwaves, and radar. I'd have to be careful about these anachronisms in the future.

"I meant, we think alike," I explained. "We have the same preferences." This answer seemed to satisfy him, for he concentrated on my penis, and inhaled deeply.

"Yours smells very nice," he began. "I like the hole, too. It looks like a teardrop. That's very cute."

"I can see the shape of the head through your skin," he said as his fingers continued to explore my prick. "Even when it was limp, it showed through. Now I want to see that head bared," he continued as his fingers delicately pushed back my foreskin, making my prick tingle at each touch.

"What you're doing really feels good," I said, removing my mouth from Eric's prick for a moment.

"I love the shape of that rim," he said. "It flares and it's got little bumps on it. It must be very sensitive." As he spoke he caressed my corona with his fingertips. I'd felt other men's fingers on my glans without their touch making me shudder with sensation, but that was during my previous circumcised life. Dr. Ellis had enjoyed tracing the upturned flare of my corona, soothing me with gentle sensations to keep me going before he descended on my glans with his avid lips and hot tongue. My new glans was much more sensitive and Eric's light touches sent hot sparks of sensation stabbing deeply into my glans and down my shaft. I felt a hard contraction in my cock-root, launching my orgasm, and my hot cream shot into Eric's face. His lips immediately closed around my throbbing glans, sucking it avidly to extract every drop of my discharges. My staccato cries and gasps filled the air as waves of blissful agony wracked my body, and my prick spurted uncontrollably into his mouth.

When I was drained, I heard Eric's voice:

"You must not have spent for a while," he said, using the 19th Century term for coming. "You began spilling your seed as soon as I touched your head. Your seed was really flying from the head. I didn't expect your stem to be so sensitive. Usually it's those who can't push back their skins who spend so quickly. Last month I touched a fellow whose skin only went back fully when he was soft. His tip was very red, not purple like yours. When he was hard, I could only get his skin back to uncover the front of the head, and the moment my finger touched it, he spent just like you did." I remained silent, as I could not tell him about my newly regained sensitivity and the sudden shock to my system his fingertip touches had caused.

"When was the last time you spent?" he asked. "It must have been a week or more, judging from the amount you spilled." I nodded, letting him believe his conclusion. Maybe the volume of my discharge had led him to think this. I realized that I'd shot a lot, although my previous orgasm had been only a few hours ago.

"Your touch was so exciting," I explained. "You're such an expert at handling my penis and you got me really excited."

"I'm glad I did," he replied. "You almost drowned me with your seed. Your tip was throbbing very hard between my lips."

"That's what you did to me."

"Well, you just relax. I'm sure you'll be hard again in a few minutes and you can spend again." He drew my foreskin forward over the head, gently clasping my shrinking penis and cupping my balls. Eric's hard prick was inches in front of my face and I began working on it, lapping the front of his glans with my tongue tip. As I did so, I felt him working his tongue into the long nozzle of my foreskin.

I felt his warm tongue tickling my meatus and then insinuating itself into my foreskin. I let my lips close over the front of his warm glans, tasting it for the first time. It had a pleasant salty taste, and as my lips pushed back its fleshy covering I caressed the sexy contours of his sleek, bullet-shaped tip with my tongue. In front of my eyes his scrotum was drawing up tightly against his body.

I felt a slippery and salty drop against my tongue and realized that he'd secreted lubricant. With my fingers I drew back his foreskin fully to make sure his corona and groove were fully exposed and then caressed them with my lips and tongue, probing his slit to heighten his ardor.

Eric's lips were around my foreskin, with most of my glans in his mouth. His tongue was deep inside my foreskin, exploring the contours of my helmet and probing for my ridge. He still kept my foreskin forward and as his tongue pushed deeper I felt its thickness stretching my fleshy sheath and its nerve endings, and my prick began to respond to the stimulation, filling with blood.

His balls were very tight against his body now, and I felt his shaft stiffen even more. He was very excited, and his glans leaked lubricant copiously as it swelled and hardened in my mouth. His breathing was very fast, and I was sure he'd blow his load before I would, as I was always slower the second time.

I felt a faint throb in his glans, a precursor of his explosion to come, and at that moment he removed his mouth from my cock, stabilizing the shaft with his hand while his tongue-tip probed my urethral opening. I admired his oral expertise, his care in avoiding the risk of biting me during his climax. I was curious to see what kind of climax he'd have, a shallow, shuddering one, or a big blasting orgasm.

Eric's hard prick seemed to stiffen even more in my mouth as his crotch muscles contracted, and then hammered my lips and tongue with a hard throb. I heard Eric cry out as the first hot jet invaded my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. His hard glans throbbed against my tongue and palate as another gush of life-juice flew into my mouth. I swallowed hard, and worked my tongue sideways against the top of his glans to give him more sensations. His cries of joyful agony filled the air as his prick pulsed and squirted again. Between cries he was gasping with the frenzy of orgasm. His cock throbbed and shot again, and suddenly he reared back, pulling it from my mouth.

"Too sensitive," he gasped as his smooth slick glans shot another load against my lips. The next ejaculation was just a dribble that fell onto the sheet, followed by a couple more before he stopped pulsing between my fingers.

I looked at his face and saw that his eyes were closed. His breathing slowed as his body relaxed, and after a minute he opened his eyes.

"That was very good, Jack. You really made me spunk."

"Glad it was good for you. I liked feeling your cock in my mouth while it was throbbing and shooting."

"Now I've got to finish you off. I know you need it, and I want to feel you spunk again in my mouth. I knew you'd be ready again soon." He grasped my prick between his fingers and inserted his tongue under my foreskin again, tickling the hole and then reaching farther into it. His tongue swept around my corona, and then his skilled fingers drew my foreskin back fully.

"Your tip's bigger than mine, and it's got a different shape," he observed. I thought a moment before answering, realizing that if I called it a "helmet" he might not understand, as the German helmet it resembled wouldn't be designed for another 35 years.

"Glad you like it. I also like what you're doing," I replied as his lips encircled the neck of my penis. Now he began a pumping motion with his lips, sucking my tip like a lollypop and caressing it with a rapid back and forth motion. Now his lips were around only the front of my helmet, framing his tongue-tip which tickled my hole. He'd let go of my shaft for a moment, and then withdrew his head to speak:

"Your skin stays back by itself. It's nice to have such a big rim, and I like the way it turns up at the edge." His lips engulfed my glans again and he resumed the rapid lip-stroking. His fingers encircled my shaft again, exerting traction to bare the nerve endings in my corona and groove. A familiar tickle began in my rim, and I felt my body tensing.

"Gettin' close," I murmured as his lips and tongue continued to work their magic on my sensitive flesh. I felt my prick engorging further, and my glans ached for release. Now he twisted his head on my prick, and the tickle turned into a hot tingle, telling me that I was on the edge. He must have felt my glans engorge in its final swelling because his lips tightened around my rim and groove. My yes closed.

I cried out as my cock-head exploded with sensation. A sharp contraction in my cock-root shot a torrent of cream into my urethra, racing towards the end. I felt his teeth lightly scraping my rim, and this triggered another spasm. My prick throbbed again as I cried out helplessly, lost in the free-fall of my orgasm. My tip became super-sensitive and Eric must have sensed this, for he withdrew his mouth and just held my skin back tightly, stretching its nerve endings.

My pulses slowed, and my torrents became a slow dribble as my prick emptied itself. Now I was just moaning softly, still captivated by the mind-numbing sensations of my orgasm. My breathing slowed and I began to relax.

Later, as I opened my eyes, I saw his penis in front of them, as he was still on his side facing me. It had softened and shrunk, and the foreskin had slid forward to wrap itself around his rim. I was aware that my prick was also softening, and Eric's comment confirmed this:

"Hey, your skin stays back even when you're not hard. It's locked tight behind your tip." This property of my foreskin was new to me, as I'd had it for only a few hours. My glans had had a flaring corona for as long as I'd remembered, but I'd had no idea it would be high enough to retain the foreskin behind it.

"Glad you like it," I said. "I like the shape of yours too. It's different from mine, and that's exciting."

"I always like to compare cocks, Jack. I like to explore another man's cock, note the similarities and the differences. Some are bigger, some smaller, with different shapes. The head are different, and so are the skins. Yours is long and thick, and now that it's locked back it forms a thick fleshy collar behind your rim."

"Yours slips forward unless I hold it back," I observed.

"I don't have that big rim you've got," he added. "My friend Danny's going to be coming by in a while, and he's got a big rim too. Want to stay? I think it'll be nice for all of us." I had been in 1880 only a few hours, and I was being invited to what was obviously going to be an orgy, and I felt gratified.

"I'd love to stay. Can I play with his prick too?" I felt that Eric was not the jealous type.

"Play all you want, as long as I get first crack." We lay on the bed silently for a few more minutes until there was a knock at the door. Eric opened it to admit another man about our age. Danny was about my height, with brown hair and eyes like mine, and he began disrobing as Eric introduced us.

"See, Jack, Danny's is a lot like yours," he said, fingering Danny's penis as soon as it came into view. "His balls hang low like mine, but his cock-head makes a bulge in his skin the way yours does."

"Glad to meet you, Danny," I said, my eyes riveted on the newcomer's prick, which was rapidly lengthening under Eric's expert touch.

"Let's see what he's got under that skin," said Eric as he skillfully slid back Danny's long hood, stretching it back over the bulbous glans.

"I've got a lot of cheese. Saved it up specially for you," Danny said as we watched the white-coated head emerge from under the long wrinkled hood. The aroma of Danny's smegma filled the air, and I knew he hadn't washed for a week. Eric seemed to be excited by this, and he quickly closed his mouth around the unwashed glans as Danny sat on the edge of the bed.

"Eric loves my cheese. Any man's cheese. Did he taste yours?" Danny asked me as his prick came to full erection between Eric's lips. The bunched foreskin stretched out as Eric's fingers pulled down on Danny's shaft and specks of white cheese came into view as the wrinkles unfolded.

"I didn't have as much as you," I answered. My new foreskin had not accumulated much natural secretions since it had magically appeared over my glans only hours ago. I watched Eric licking avidly at Danny's swollen glans, probing behind the rim, forcing his tongue between Danny's corona and the thick collar of foreskin that had locked back behind the flaring corona to taste every residue of smegma.

"There's also a little spunk mixed in with it," Danny remarked to both of us. I did myself a couple of days ago and that left some under my skin. I was careful not to wash it off. But I like your cock," Danny said to me as he reached for mine, which was still limp. "I think it's a lot like mine. I like the way the skin bulges. It shows you've got a big head underneath." His fingers expertly tugged at the end of my nipple, stretching the foreskin out away from my body, and my prick began to fill out. As Eric was next to me, albeit with his head down in Danny's lap, I reached for his prick and began to stroke the foreskin over the head.

"Thanks, Jack," Eric said as he pulled his mouth from Danny's prick for a moment. I felt his erection growing, and knew that he still had some steam in him, as I did.

"Oh, that feels so nice," I said as Danny's expert fingers worked on my engorging prick.

"I can feel that big head swelling inside your skin," Danny said. "That rim's really nice." His fingers rubbed my foreskin over the corona, sending deep sensations into my prick.

"Yours is nice too," I replied. "When Eric's finished with you, I want my share."

"He'll have cleaned it thoroughly by then," Danny laughed.

"I don't care. I want to taste your raw meat against my tongue," I replied. As I spoke, Danny uncovered my swollen glans, leaning over to inspect it closely.

"You've got those little bumps around your rim, just like mine," he commented. "They make the rim really sensitive."

"His rim really is sensitive," Eric said, having listened to the interchange. "The first time I unskinned him, I touched his rim with my fingertips, very lightly, and his seed just flew from his cock."

"I can touch him now," Danny said as his fingertips traced the outline of my corona. "He's already spent, and he won't be as sensitive." His fingertips traveled down one side of my corona and up the other, barely pausing to strum my gee-string lightly to make my prick jump.

"You made his cock jerk with your touch," Eric said. "He's still sensitive, although he spent twice in the last hour."

"Twice?" Danny asked rhetorically. "He must still have a lot in his balls, although they're tight."

"He said his balls are always tight," Eric explained. "They don't hang loose the way ours do."

"Yours are getting tight now," Danny replied. "Mine are too, with the way you've been sucking my tip." Eric had pulled back hard on Danny's skin, totally baring the big purple helmet and the deep groove behind it. Now Danny did the same to mine.

"See, he's got a thick rim and deep groove behind it just like you," Eric said. "His skin stays back just like yours."

"Even when it's soft?" Danny asked.

"Even when it's soft," Eric affirmed. "His head's just like yours."

"Not quite," Danny disagreed. "He's got a teardrop shaped hole, not a slit like me."

"Your slit leaks a lot of juice when you're hot, like now," Eric said. "Jack's cock is kind of dry. He doesn't leak much except when he spills his seed. Then he shoots more than you or me."

"I want to see that," Danny said as his fingers began pumping my foreskin up and down my glans, compressing my corona and the nerve endings in the foreskin and glans. Meanwhile, Eric had dived again onto Danny's engorged prick, sucking hard, twisting his head as he did so. Danny began to moan.

"Let Eric do you first," I said. "I want you to go first."

"All right, Danny muttered as his excitement rose. His hand clasped my prick more tightly as he became more excited, and I wondered if I'd come first.

Eric said nothing, but closed his fist around Danny's shaft, pumping the foreskin up as his lips receded along the glans, and then pushing Danny's foreskin back down as his mouth advanced to engulf to swollen tip. This relentless double action was turning Danny on and I knew he'd be discharging soon, before I did.

"Ooooohhhhhhhhhhh," Danny moaned as his excitement mounted. I cupped his tightening ball sac with my other hand as Eric continued to work on his prick, and Danny's moans grew louder. Now Eric removed his mouth completely from Danny's hot twitching prick on each back stroke, momentarily baring the head as he pumped the long foreskin up to engulf it. Danny's scrotum was tight in my hand, and I pressed my fingertips into the tender flesh behind it.

"I'll be able to feel when he starts to spend," I said, slipping easily into the jargon of the era. "My fingers are touching him right behind the balls."

"I'm going to suck him dry," said Eric. "I've had his cheese. Now I'll have his spunk." He increased his pace, and as Eric was speaking I caught a long glimpse of Danny's darkly engorged cock-head, distended and shiny with excitement, before he lowered his lips to resume the double action on his straining prick.

"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" Danny had begun to grunt loudly as Eric's pace increased, and I knew he was on the verge. Even if he tried to relax to maintain the delicious feeling of anticipation, the wild force of his orgasm was about to overtake him.

HAAAHHHH!" Danny cried loudly as I felt a hard pulse behind his balls. I also felt his balls throb as the first jet of sperm hurtled up his shaft to empty into Eric's eager mouth. Eric's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and Danny's prick pulsed again as his helpless cries filled the room. I felt his fist tighten around my prick, almost painfully, as the hot sweet agony of orgasm consumed him. His chest heaved, and he fell back onto the bed, hips bucking mindlessly, his body thrashing as more jets spewed from his prick to fill Eric's mouth.

Danny's cries became shrill and Eric removed his mouth. He stopped pumping his foreskin as well, explaining to me:

"He's too sensitive now. I've got to stop." We both watched as another hot jet flew from Danny's swollen purple tip, now a deeper shade than when he'd first gotten hard. Another jet slammed open the lips of his slit as Danny grunted again, and then a slow flow of residue began, pouring gently out of his slit and running down over Eric's clasping fist. I noticed that Danny's eyes were shut tightly, and his jaw muscles clenched.

Eric let Danny's prick fall back on his stomach as the orgasm dissipated. The foreskin was still locked back behind the rim. Danny was still stunned by the violence of his orgasm, and lay still while he recovered. His grip on my prick had relaxed, and he'd stopped pumping my foreskin.

Several minutes later he opened his eyes and sat up. He said weakly:

"That was awful. I just exploded. You got both my cheese and my spunk, Eric." He reached down to slip his foreskin deftly over his shrunken glans to protect it. Then he turned to me and resumed pumping my foreskin as his mouth descend on my swollen helmet and trap it between his lips. After a few seconds he raised his head and said to Eric: "You've already drunk his sap. It's my turn now."

"That's a good idea," Eric said. "We'll both work on Jack and make him spend." As his experienced fingers pumped my foreskin down, Danny's lips engulfed my helmet. As Danny withdrew, Eric pumped my foreskin up, imitating the double action that had just given Danny a glorious orgasm minutes before. His other hand cupped my balls.

"I can feel his sap rising," Eric commented to Danny. "His shaft's becoming stiffer and I think you can feel the head swelling and getting harder." Danny grunted in acknowledgement as he continued to apply a hard suction to my glans. I felt his tongue-tip probe my orifice each time his lips encased my head, tickling it to enhance my sensations. My prick now felt rock-hard, the swollen helmet aching for release, when Danny's teeth scraped down the broad upper surface, sending hot sparks of sensation stabbing deeply into my swollen flesh. My eyes snapped closed.

It felt like a lot bolt of electricity, and the sensation shot down my shaft to my cock-root, which contracted sharply. The hot quirt of juice flooded my urethra, shooting towards the tip. The searing jet rounded the upward curve in my urethra where it entered the glans and I cried out helplessly, awash in mind-numbing sensations, as I released my first jet into Danny's eager mouth.

Eric's fist pumped my foreskin up as Danny's lips withdrew and another jet hurtled from my straining tip just as Danny's mouth descended again to catch it. I cried out again, filled with the sweet agony of orgasm, and then Danny's lips withdrew again, followed closely by my tight foreskin, urged up by Eric's eager fist. My cock-root contracted again, and I shot just as Danny's mouth engulfed my glans to swallow my ejaculation.

A sudden hyper-sensitivity filled my glans, and I shrieked at the sensation. Danny removed his mouth, and Eric stopped pumping. They let my orgasm peter out, as the contractions inside me became weaker and my jets slowed to a steady dribble.

"I felt how Jack's tip got all swollen and hard when he was about to spill," Danny said to Eric.

"His shaft was very stiff," Eric replied. "When his crisis began I felt the pulse behind his balls when he shot his seed into his tube."

"I think he had a really exciting time with both of us working on him," Danny said. "I know having both of you working on me made my spilling a lot hotter." I opened my eyes to see them sitting on either side of me. Eric handed me a towel, as Kleenex hadn't been invented yet and wouldn't be for decades. We agreed to meet again next evening and I dressed and left.

I passed through Central Park, which in 1880 was not the death-defying experience it was in my own time. Even in the dark it was not too hard to find the spot where my survival kit should be, and I began scraping away the grass and dirt with my fingers. It had been buried in a very shallow hole, and soon I had it in my hands. As I'd been cautioned to leave as few traces as possible, I filled in the hole before heading for my hotel.

Inside, I opened to hermetically sealed lid and inspected the contents. The first item I sought was the vial of penicillin tablets, and I swallowed two without water. I might have been exposed to a sexually transmitted disease because of my contacts with Eric or Danny, or both. During the 19th Century, syphilis was a far greater threat than AIDS would ever be, because it was both incurable and far more easily transmitted. Many notables, including members of governments and royal families, had died of "the syph" over the years. The odds were better than even that Eric or Danny, or both, had contracted it. Swallowing penicillin now would stop any infection before it began.

The rest of my survival kit contained extra money of the era, dexedrine tablets, more antibiotics, and a timetable of places to be on various days, as they were going to try to bring me back to my own time if possible.

Right now, I wasn't sure I wanted to go back. One reason was that I was really enjoying myself in 1880. Another was that I might lose my foreskin during the transition to the 21st Century, a prospect that didn't appeal to me at all. Now that I'd had sex the natural way, my previous experiences seemed pale and lifeless.

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

The End