All in Good Time, Part 10 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.
Summary: I'd been selected for a secret government time travel project and traveled back to 1880 New York City, where I'd met a gay guy, Eric, and his friend, Danny. One of the benefits of being projected back in time was that I was physically as if I'd been born in 1850, without vaccination scars, appendectomy, and most importantly, without the circumcision scar I'd resented all my life. For the first time, I'd experienced sex the way it should be, with my fleshy cuff intact. Foreskins were the norm in 1880, and few males were without one.
A major drawback was that I was unvaccinated, and therefore vulnerable to the diseases, such as smallpox and syphilis, that were so prevalent at the time. Fortunately the people directing the time travel project had sent along a survival kit packed with extra money, modern medicines, such as antibiotics, and a pistol. I was so charmed by the 1880s that I was seriously considering staying there, evading any attempt to bring me back to my time, the early 21st Century.
I'd established myself quickly, buying a house in upper Manhattan, and had had Eric and Danny as guests, which had resulted in hot sex for us. It had been so exciting that we'd decided to get together the next weekend, again at my house because it offered privacy and amenities that Eric's rooming house did not.
Eric, Danny, and I had several exciting sexual encounters together in my new house. The last one involved Danny "docking" Eric, and saving the combined cream for Eric to savor later. That afternoon, we continued, Eric sucking the accumulated juices from Danny's prick, and then Danny and Eric used their tongues around my helmet together to bring me to orgasm. Finally, Danny and I worked on Eric, and I used my fingertips caressing his naked glans to make him erupt.
Danny promised to bring his friend Tommy along next time we met. Tommy had an exceptionally nippled foreskin, and Eric loved sucking it. The next Saturday, Tommy arrived and we had a tremendously arousing foursome.
Weeks later, Frank arrived on my scene, He was a gay FBI agent sent into the past to investigate and, if necessary, arrest me. He quickly decided to join me rather than return to the future where he'd revert to being circumcised and persecuted for being gay.
Shortly after Frank's arrival, we encountered another FBI tracker from the future, Matt, who had been surgically implanted with a chip to enable the project staff to monitor his location. Neither Matt nor his superiors at the project were aware that all surgery disappeared upon return to the past. The chip was gone as if it had never existed, and we were able to dispose of Matt quickly and easily, thus negating the threat. When we went to gather Matt's belongings from his hotel, we were followed by Terry, who had been pressed into service by the project as Matt's "gofer." Terry was eager to join us, as he was delighted that he'd regained his foreskin, which had been amputated without his knowledge or consent during surgery for a compound fracture when he was 13.
Terry's foreskin was long, extending almost two inches beyond the end of his glans, and was a prolific cheese producer. Eric and his friend, Gary, had come over one Saturday to taste Terry's accumulation of smegma, semen, and urine, and had enjoyed themselves tremendously.
The characters so far:
Myself, Jack, age 30, six feet, brown hair and eyes, six inch erection, long foreskin, and tight sac.
Eric: My age, blond, blue eyes, erection 5 ¾", low-hangers, slender build. Eric has a passion for cock-cheese.
Danny, about my age and height, brown hair and eyes, erection about 7", long foreskin and loose sac.
Tommy, standing about 5'10", slender, with a long foreskin extending over an inch beyond the end of his red cherry head, forming a long nipple through which he was able to pee without splashing. Erect, he measured about 5 ½" and his sac was loose like the others. Frank, age 35, my height, over six inches hard, with low hangers, shapely helmet and long foreskin restored by time travel, as he's from my own time. Terry, age 25, 5'10", another time traveler. He had brown hair and eyes, and a 6" prick had with a very long time-restored foreskin that he treasured because his original one had been amputated when he was 13. Gary, a friend of Eric's, who is roughly our age. His distinctive features are a great love of cock-cheese, and a piss-slit that is large enough to admit the tip of the little finger.
Part 10
Weeks after the encounter with Eric and Gary, Terry and I were speaking in a desultory way as we drank coffee in the kitchen. Frank was still asleep. We were naked, as usual. It was warm in the kitchen, as I kept the wood stove going constantly, and some of the heat diffused into the rest of the house.
"Are you sure they'll never find Matt's body?" Terry asked suddenly. He looked worried. "If they ever do, and they do DNA typing, they'll know it's him."
"Don't sweat it," I replied. "They'll never find the fucker. The crabs and fish took care of that. We went out to where we left him last week. There's nothing left."
"You're sure that tracking device never came back with him?" Terry asked. "I know that any signs of surgery disappeared when we came back here, but I'm still worried."
"No sweat," I said. "If the tracking device had survived, we would have found it where we left the body. We found absolutely nothing. He's gone, and the tracking device never existed in this time." I reached over and tweaked Terry's glans through his long foreskin to reassure him, and felt his prick throb in response.
"I guess we're safe, then," he said. I continued to tweak the end of his prick, feeling it swell in my hand.
"Just relax," I said. "The fucker's gone, just as if he never existed." Terry's prick was now hard, and his loose scrotum had begun to creep up towards his body as it gradually contracted with Terry's rising excitement.
"That feels soooo goooooood," Terry sighed, his attention swerving from his preoccupation with Matt's fate to the delicious sensations in his prick. Now that he was hard, I began stripping back his long hood.
"Your skin's long, but kinda loose," I said. "That makes it easier to strip back."
"Yeah, but it doesn't lock back like yours and Frank's. I really like the way your skins stay back behind those high rims." I was using both hands, stabilizing Terry's prick with one while working the long fleshy foreskin back along the head with the other.
"There, I'm gettin' it," I said as I drew back the long fleshy tube, exposing Terry's cherry red glans, which had a thin film of natural secretion coating it. As the odor filled the air, I inhaled deeply. "I love the smell of your prick," I added.
"It wasn't that way before I came back here," he said. "Now it's nice and wet and sensitive, the way it was before that butcher of a doctor cut me."
"The head's so smooth," I commented as I touched the end lightly with my fingertip. "You're gettin' wet now." A drop of clear liquid had parted the lips of Terry's slit, and I began spreading it in small circles with my fingertip.
"Yeah, the head got all dry like leather after he cut my skin off," he said. "I was surprised how much sensitivity I lost after the operation." I continued to hold Terry's hood back as I worked my fingertip lightly over his glans and began circling his rim. The natural lubricant he was secreting blended with the smegma, making the surface of his cherry very slippery.
"At least you had anesthesia during the cutting," I said. "Frank and I were done when we were babies, and it hurt because they didn't even numb our dicks with a local, even though we don't remember it." Now I was slowly circling his rim with my fingertip, massaging in the mixture of liquid lubricant and creamy residue from his foreskin. My prick had swollen as I'd been massaging Terry's sensitive tissues, although I hadn't touched it. Neither had Terry, as he'd been from the start preoccupied with the delicious sensations I was giving him.
"Oh, that's terrific," he said as I worked my fingertip all around his rim, producing a whirlwind of sensations in his glans.
"When you first came here, you couldn't stand to be touched this way," I said.
"My tip was so sensitive then."
"It probably still is," I said. "You seem to be better able to handle direct action now."
"You and Frank can handle it pretty well," Terry said. "Your tips got more sensitive after you got your skins back, didn't they?"
"They sure did," I replied. "I remember the first time I skinned back and touched my tip directly. I almost jumped through the ceiling. My tip's still sensitive, but I've gotten used to direct finger touches." I kept circling his rim as I spoke, working my way slowly down one side, pausing to strum his gee-string, and then working up the other side back to the top. Terry's balls were tight against his body, and a mild tremor spread through his body as I worked on his prick.
"You're gonna make me come," he whispered. "I just can't stand it anymore." I took this seriously, as I'd felt his glans lose its sponginess as I'd caressed it.
"Just try to relax," I counseled. "Right now your tip's gotten darker, and it's really hard, but I'll slow down so you don't go over the edge too fast." I lightened my touch and just teased his rim, working very slowly around it circumference. Terry was gasping, letting out soft grunts that advertised his excitement.
"Take a few deep breaths," I continued. He did, and his body relaxed somewhat, but the clear lubricant continued to flow copiously from his slit, running down the glans and coating my finger. The thick film of lube softened the sensations further, and I was confident that I could keep him at this stage of excitement for a few more minutes.
"We haven't seen much of the guys lately," he commented.
"That's because we'd better get used to having our sex with each other," I said. "I guess they understand how we've partnered up. Anyway, you know how syphilis and gonorrhea were common in this time, and there was no cure."
"We've got antibiotics and they've worked for us so far," he said.
"So far," I echoed him. "We don't have an unlimited supply. One of these days we'll run out, and then we'll be as vulnerable as everyone else." Terry's dark red tip had lightened a shade, as the discussion had taken his mind off his arousal. "How you doin'?" I asked.
"Pretty good," he answered. "I don't think I'll come too soon."
"Good. Let's keep you that way. The longer we can keep you goin' the hotter it'll be when I make you come."
"Fuck yeah," he breathed. "It's the same for you and Frank, too, isn't it?"
"Oh, you bet it is," I replied. "That's why we like to get up there and stay just below orgasm. The longer we can hold off, the more intense it is when we let go."
"Yeah, just do me," he whispered as his arms dropped to his sides. He was making every effort to stay relaxed, letting me control the pace."
"I want to get you to the point where your tip gets super-sensitive just as you start to come," I said. "I think that's where it's gonna feel the most intense."
"It's pretty sensitive now," he said. "Good thing you're not pressing hard." I was barely touching his corona, which was hard and swollen, and I noticed that his glans had begun to darken again.
"Aaaahhhhh," he moaned as the pitch of his excitement rose.
"That's it, just stay relaxed and let the sensations hit you," I said. "When you start to come, I'll stop touchin g the head and just keep the tension on your skin." I was barely strumming his hot spot under the head now, feeling his prick twitching in response.
"Huuunnnhhhh" he moaned, the sensations intensifying as he got closer to the brink. I knew that the explosion would start any second, bringing blessed relief to his prick.
"You're leaking a lot of lube," I pointed out as I placed my fingertip over his gaping slit, whose lips were parted by a large drop of clear fluid. I spread it in circles around the red distended head, feeling its hardness in my fingertip.
"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" he grunted as the sensations in his prick peaked. His face flushed and his eyes closed as his legs began to tremble.
"That's it, that's it, Terry," I said, not sure he was hearing me. "Just let it happen!" A thick spurt of clear fluid gushed from between his prick-lips as his grunts became louder, and I knew he was sliding slowly but inexorably over the edge.
"HAAAAAHHHHH!" he cried out as his shaft throbbed between my fingers and his glans hammered against my caressing fingertip. The first hot white jet erupted from his straining slit to shoot high in the air, and I gave the underside of his glans a final press with my fingertip as the odor of chlorine hit my nostrils.
"HAH! HAH! HAH!" Terry gasped helplessly as the second contraction of his cock-root sent another jet hurtling from his straining glans. I'd stopped caressing his swollen red tip but kept the tension on his skin, stretching the nerve endings to give him enough sensation to keep his orgasm going at full force.
"HAH! HAH! HAH! HAAAAAHHHHH!" Terry cried out, overwhelmed by the blissful agony wracking his body. His hips lifted from the seat as his cherry erupted a third time, sending another creamy white rope arcing into the air. I kept the tension on his shaft-skin, and cupped his balls with my now free right hand, pressing my fingertips into the tender, throbbing flesh behind them.
"HUNNNHAAAAHHHH!" he groaned as his prick pulsed again between my fingers. This gush was not as powerful, and it barely cleared the hole before running down the underside of his glans and shaft onto my gripping fingers. Terry groaned again, and this ejaculation was just a smooth flow from between the distended lips of his slit, flowing down his prick past my fingers and onto his scrotum.
Terry's orgasm subsided after a few more throbs, and now his slit was just seeping fluid, which was mostly clear as he'd drained his tanks. His face was flushed, but the color gradually left it as his prick began to soften. I watched his body slump as he sank into the state of profound relaxation that follows orgasm. As I was gently coaxing his foreskin down over the shrinking cherry, Frank entered.
"I can smell what's been going on here," he said. He was naked, was the kitchen was warm enough not to require clothing for comfort. As he helped himself to a cup of coffee I spoke:
"What's happened?" I asked. "You're not hard like you usually are in the morning."
"I already peed," he replied. "You were probably too busy to hear me." He was right about that. I'd been concentrating on making Terry get his rocks off, and Terry had been totally absorbed in the heavenly sensations in his prick to pay any attention to anything outside the kitchen. "You look like you're ready to drop your load."
"I got hot just making Terry cream his jeans," I answered. "I'm in no hurry, though. Just drink your coffee." Now Terry was coming to, and his eyes fluttered open with a dazed look.
"Terry's back with us," Frank said in his matter-of-fact manner. I got up to wipe the floor, where Terry's cream was cooling, and then washed my hands, which were covered with the creamy substance.
"I'd like to shoot the bastard who circumcised me," Terry stated vehemently.
"So would I," I added.
"Me too," said Frank, "but how?"
"If we could go back to the year I was hurt," I could make sure that surgeon wouldn't be in any shape to operate on me," Terry said.
"That would mean going back to our time and using the time machine to get back to when we were born. I wouldn't know how to run it, even if we got through the tight security around it."
"If we went back to our own time, we'd be in deep shit right from the start," I said. "We wouldn't have a chance, and we just might wind up being circumcised the way we were before we left."
"He's right," Frank confirmed. "Better be happy the way you are, and forget those dreams about changing the past."
"But maybe we could change the past," Terry argued. "If I could track down the bastard's grandfather, I'd make sure he never had any kids and grandkids, even if I had to blow his brains out. I've never shot anybody, but for this, I'm sure I could."
"Forget it," Frank said. "How would you know who his grandfather was?"
"I know the guy's name was Maxwell," answered Terry.
"Sure, but we'd have to be in our own time to run a genealogy on the particular Maxwell who was your doctor. We happen to be locked into the past. You wouldn't have any idea which guy named Maxwell to shoot."
"Oh, well, I thought it was a good idea. Too bad," said Terry.
"Yeah, it is too bad," I said. "I'd had similar thoughts, but it just won't work. We'll have to be happy with what we've got, which is a hell of a lot more than guys in our own time have."
"I'd heard of guys who stretched their shaft-skins to form a new foreskin," said Frank, "but it wasn't the same as the original."
"Yeah, all those nerve endings that got cut off are gone forever," I said. "We've got the real thing, through a fluke of time travel. I don't know how it works, but it's working for us." As I said this, I felt Frank's fingers wrapping around my prick.
"You've got a really nice skin covering that big head," he remarked as he lovingly began to slide my hood back and forth slowly over the helmet.
"Yours is pretty tight," Terry observed. "It's almost as tight as mine was when I was a kid."
"Yeah, it's tighter than mine, for sure," said Frank. "It skins back all the way, though."
"I remember how good it felt when mine was that tight," said Terry. "Just skinning it back felt so good."
"Yeah, it really hugs the head," added Frank as he drew my foreskin back in stages, the way he knew I liked.
"My hood really rubs against my helmet," I said. "It also feels good when it stretches out over the head. The nerve endings in it get stretched a lot, and this feels very good." Frank was pulling back on my foreskin, at first only enough to stretch the pucker that closed the end and expose my hole, and then he let it slip forward again. The next time he drew it back a little farther, stretching the pucker to a dime-sized opening, tensing the nerve endings against my expanding helmet. Now he had it back enough to bare the twin lobes on the underside of my helmet, enhancing my sensations.
"Let me help," Terry said as he brought his chair next to mine. He reached to cup my balls, as he leaned over to smell my prick. "I like that odor," he continued.
"We all like that man-smell," Frank confirmed, and after Terry had lifted his head he bent his to inhale the aroma from my prick as he pulled my hood back farther, almost to the rim.
"I really like that helmet-shaped head," Terry said as his fingers gently kneaded my scrotum, adding to the thrills filling my body. Frank pushed my hood forward again and then pulled it back far enough so that the orifice was poised on my rim. He let go for a moment, and Terry clasped my fleshy ring and pushed it forward to cover the head again.
"You skin him back all the way this time," Frank said. Terry slowly eased my foreskin back as we all watched my big purple head come into view again. He pulled it back to the rim, and then exerted just enough tension to make it coast over my flaring corona and snap down into the deep groove behind it. I sighed deeply as the cool air hit my glans.
"It's really nice the way it locks back behind the rim," Terry observed as he bent forward to blow on my exposed tip, sending a thrill down my glans and shaft. Now his tongue flicked out to tease my teardrop shaped slit.
"I like the way he tastes, too," Terry said to Frank. Now he ran his tongue around my rim, scooping up the creamy wetness he found clinging to it.
"I never had smegma back in our time," I said. "I didn't have a foreskin, and my prick smelled like any other part of my body." Terry's tongue was now digging in between my flaring rim and the thick fleshy ring of foreskin bunched behind it, caressing the nerve endings.
"I didn't either," said Frank. "It was a real thrill for me to feel that skin over my cock-head, and the creamy lube under it."
"Now our cocks smell natural," added Terry as he lifted his head. The thick cuff of skin behind my corona set off my cock-rim, contrasting in both texture and color. Frank commented on this:
"Look at that big purple helmet," he began. "Then there's that ring of pale skin behind it, like a collar." He ran his fingertip around my fleshy collar, wet with Terry's saliva.
"That makes my prick tingle," I said. As I spoke, Terry's right hand wrapped around my shaft and I saw his left encircle Frank's erection. Now he began stroking us both, snapping our foreskins over our straining helmets and bringing them forward until they puckered at the ends. Now he drew them down, uncovering our purple helmets with the delicious friction of lubricated skin.
"Frank's skin snaps when I jack it," commented Terry. "Yours is tighter, so it hugs the head."
"Yeah, mine was always noisy when I jacked it," Frank confirmed. Terry's eager fingers whipped our hoods up and down our heads, enhancing our arousal.
"I'm gonna make you both come," Terry said as he continued stimulating us. "I wanna see both big dicks shoot at the same time." My prick was definitely responding to the excitement, and Frank's balls were tightening against his body. I reached for Frank's hand, wanting to be in physical contact with him when the storm burst over us.
"Both your tips are good and hard now," Terry commented. "They're gettin' darker, too.
"Mine's gettin' that tingle," Frank whispered. "How `bout you?" he said to me.
"Me, too," I said, in a strained voice. Frank reached across his body for my other hand and squeezed it.
"We'll come together," he said. Terry's fists flew over our straining pricks, whipping up our excitement to a frenzy. My eyes closed.
"Both of you have your eyes closed," I heard Terry say. My breathing was ragged, and I heard Frank gasping beside me. My prick was swollen hard, almost bursting with the pressure of the blood filling it, and my glans ached for blessed release.
"OOOOOWWWWWW!" Frank howled beside me as his hands gripped mine convulsively, and a split second later the hot tingle in my tip exploded, sending me reeling into the depths of orgasm. I howled as the first burning gush seared its way up my shaft, exploding from my tip. My entire body trembled as the waves of sensation poured over me, and I knew Frank was feeling it too.
"That's it! Go for it!" Terry urged as his fists continued to stroke our foreskins, snapping them over our rims. My cock-root again contracted, making me howl in ecstasy, sending another hot torrent up my shaft. I felt it round the upward curve in my glans before it erupted from my straining tip.
Both Frank and I cried out helplessly as we dissolved in the ecstasy of our orgasms. I was squeezing his hands as hard as he was squeezing mine, and it almost hurt. My prick throbbed again as another stream of hot lava poured up my tube, sending me to another peak of frenzied sensation.
I felt Terry's fist stop on my shaft, holding the skin back tautly, stretching the nerve endings. He'd timed it just right, because this was the moment my tip became super-sensitive. I felt the successive waves of my orgasm go through me, each making me discharge another load, until only sporadic drops bubbled out of my swollen tip. I felt Frank's hands relax their grip on mine, and I knew that he was slipping into the same torpor I was.
We sat there for a long time, as our breathing returned to normal and our bodies relaxed. Finally, I opened my eyes to see that terry was still holding our softening pricks lovingly, cradling them in his fingers as he bent over to lick the last drops from our tips. The odor of our chlorine was heavy in the air, and the floor was wet with our thick creamy discharges.
"What now?" Frank asked. I looked at him. "I mean, where do we go from here? Should we stay in New York, or move on?"
"I know what you mean," I said. Terry looked at me inquiringly. "Look, we've been living here for months, waiting and wondering if another tracker would be sent back after us," I explained to him.
"We've been cruising the streets of mid-town, looking at the people, trying to see if someone didn't belong," Frank picked up where I'd stopped. "We've been looking for people in wash and wear clothes, people who looked too neat, too clean-shaven, just in case we might spot another tracker. It gets old."
`You think we'd be safer elsewhere?" Terry asked.
"Hey, this is a big country," I responded. "They can search New York City, but they can't look at the entire country."
"We could go to Arizona," Frank suggested. "Every white man there is from somewhere else, and we'd have no trouble fitting it. Nobody really expects you to tell him your life story, and people expect you to be different from them."
"I'd always wanted to see what the O. K. Corral shootout really was like," Terry said. "It's gonna happen just next year."
"No reason we can't end up in Tombstone this time next year," I said. "I'd like to meet Wyatt Earp and Doc Holiday myself."
That's how we began planning to get out of New York. We had many interesting years ahead of us.
END
This is really the end. There will be no more chapters.