An Evening with Charlie, Adult Friends, 1/1

Published on Jul 28, 2005

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An Evening With Charlie By Jackinnm@yahoo.com

I'd met Charlie over 20 years ago through Phil, a mutual friend, and it didn't take long for us to decide we had similar tastes. We were exactly the same age, 39, and fairly experienced in sexual matters. That was why we'd met as part of a loose network of guys who shared the same outlook and preferences, specifically, that mutual jacking and other forms of play were preferable to many other types of sexual expression. In those relatively carefree days, I had not yet heard the expression "safe sex," and merely did a lot of solo and mutual jacking just because I enjoyed it more than almost anything else. That didn't mean that I was totally constricted in my sexual tastes; I occasionally tried other things for variety.

Charlie welcomed me when I rang his bell, and ushered me into the living room, where he offered me a beer. Like me, he was an avid beer drinker, and soon we were enjoying the brew and discussing our mutual friends. He sat next to me on the couch, and I felt the warmth of his thigh through the fabric of our clothing. It wasn't long before we had conspicuous bulges running down our pants legs. "Looks like you're as ready as I am," he remarked. I nodded, and he led me into the bedroom, where we doffed our clothes.

I saw that Charlie and I had similar builds, medium, and we were both about six feet. He wore his hair in a crew cut, which contrasted with my brushed back look. Charlie's cock was circumcised, with a pink bell-shaped head in front of a thick, jagged scar ring. Bell-shaped cock-heads are less common than mushrooms and helmets, and are very attractive because of their symmetry. The bell shape begins with a big rounded dome at the front, just like my helmet. Instead of tapering out, the bell-shaped head continues straight back to a high flaring ridge that comes almost straight down to meet in a weld line underneath. The helmet's ridge, by comparison, sweeps forward at about 45 degrees under the cock. Like mine, Charlie's cock-head had a large, teardrop shaped come hole, and it looked very sexy.

Charlie was staring hungrily at my thick uncut cock, with its fleshy hood tapering over the bulging glans and forming a long nipple in front of it. I reacted to his stare, my cock-head swelling under its thick covering.

"Phil told me they didn't do you," he said, obviously referring to my uncut state. "I always envied guys who had their hoods. Mine was cut off when I had my tonsils out at five. The doctor wanted to collect a few extra dollars, I guess." He sighed and continued: "Sometimes, I put on a condom, close my eyes, and pretend it's a foreskin, but I always know it isn't."

Now we were only a couple of feet apart, and Charlie reached for my prick, grasping it by the nipple. He rolled it back and forth between his fingers, and the tickling feeling this produced in my glans gave me a full erection. His cock was swelling too, even though I hadn't yet touched it.

We lay on the bed in a "69" position, which gave us a full view of each other's equipment. We each had slightly less than seven inches, which would change in later years as fat pads built up over our pubic bones. He grasped my prick in his fist, steadying it while he inspected it closely. I felt Charlie's tongue probe into my foreskin nipple, then insinuate itself farther to touch the orifice. The warm contact of his tongue against my swollen glans made me shudder, and I felt a drop of fluid begin to crawl up my urethra. He took his mouth away momentarily to say;

"Yours has a real nice, clean man smell. I just love that smell."

"You like the odor, right?"

"Oh yes I do. I even like a cock that hasn't been washed for a couple of days. There aren't many of them around nowadays. Most natural guys are so scared to be thought unclean that they wash religiously every day, some even several times a day."

"I know a guy like that," I said. "He was so obsessed about his foreskin odor that he soaped it several times a day. The soap only irritated his prick and he eventually got himself circumcised." Charlie replied:

"I'm sorry to hear that. That poor guy was brainwashed. I wish I'd known him before he got himself chopped. I think I would have convinced him that smegma is attractive."

"Did you ever know a guy who didn't wash much?"

"Oh, about ten years ago. I met this guy who was really charming, and when we stripped down I saw he had a long thick foreskin, a lot like yours, covering a big fat mushroom that made a hot looking bulge in his skin. I smelled him from several feet away, and I wanted his dick pronto! I skinned him back, and saw that he had a nice film of white stuff on his mushroom. He was embarrassed, and told me that he'd go into the bathroom to clean himself, but I held on to his dick and told him I'd do it for him."

"Did you wash him, you mean?"

"No, not washing in the conventional sense. I cleaned his dick, all right, but I did it with my tongue, a tongue bath. I got him on the bed and by this time he was hard. His foreskin was like yours- it covered that fat mushroom even when it was fully hard. I slowly skinned him back and licked the cheese from his cock-head. I worked my tongue all around it, hitting the groove behind his fat rim, and then I held his cock up so that I could get at the underside, where his gee-string attached in the vee-groove. There were a lot of wrinkles there, but I worked my tongue into every one, and licked him clean."

"He must have liked that," I said.

"He really did! Then I pulled back hard on the skin to get the wrinkles out of his foreskin. I stretched it back real tight, and that made his mushroom dip because it pulled down on his thick gee-string. When I had his foreskin tightly stretched it was one smooth tube of skin behind his cock-head, and I tongued all around it. I licked every last trace of smeg from that smooth surface, and then I let his skin go forward again. After that, we did "69" until we came."

"Well, let's get into it now. I'd like to make your prick explode."

"I want to make your cock shoot too." I moved forward to taste Charlie's prick.

Charlie's prick smelled and tasted bland, typical of the circumcised version. A slight male odor wafted up from his balls, and I inhaled this, enjoying the aroma as I licked the broad upper surface of his bell-shaped head with my tongue. I took the head completely in my mouth, sucking hard to give him a good sensation. I held the base of his prick in my hand and squeezed hard, slowing the return flow of blood and making the head swell even more. I removed my mouth to look at it.

I saw that a drop of clear fluid had filled Charlie's teardrop. I delicately picked up his cock by its big, bulging glans and licked off the drop, enjoying its thick viscosity and salty taste, knowing that by now he was tasting mine. Then I ran my tongue around his flaring rim, following it down to the seam under the head.

I felt Charlie tug gently on my hood, retracting it step by step, a fraction of an inch at a time, which felt very good. I was glad that Charlie knew that skinning it back stage by stage was the sexiest way to do it, because of the slow and repeated stretches on the sensitive serve endings. The long hood slid back over the well-lubricated cock-head, and when Charlie gave a final tug, it rode over my high ridge and snapped down into the deep groove behind the head.

"Hey, you've got a teardrop at the end just like me," he exclaimed. "You've got a really nice cock-head, and I'll enjoy sucking it." His warm lips wrapped around my turgid glans, and I felt his tongue probe at my teardrop, then drop underneath to explore the triangular groove under the head. The tip of his tongue worked its way up behind my ridge, caressing the groove and the roll of foreskin that lay within it. He spoke again:

"I'd sure love to feel that long foreskin of yours wrapped around my cock-head," he said, "but your tip's so big mine wouldn't fit underneath."

"Well, one way we could do it is that you make me come first, then my prick'll go soft and you'll have room to work the head in," I suggested. "I'm almost there, anyway, with the tongue action you've been giving me." Charlie responded by giving my prick a few quick pumps, pulling my foreskin up over the head, then stripping it back behind the groove.

He locked the fingers of his other hand at the base of my shaft, and I felt my cock-tip swelling even more, becoming warmer and more sensitive. The rhythmic compression of the nerve endings in my rim gave me a tingly feeling, and I knew I'd be coming within seconds. My cock-root throbbed, and I felt a surge of lubricant crawling up my tube, then Charlie wrapped his warm lips around the head and sucked the thick lube right out of me.

With his lips on the front of my swollen glans, he pumped my foreskin hard against the ridge, crushing the nerve endings, and I felt myself going over the edge. I was helpless in Charlie's hands as he brought my prick to coming, and the first hot jet rushed up my tube and into his mouth. I let go of his prick, unable to think of anything except the overwhelmingly beautiful sensations in my throbbing cock, and I cried out helplessly as the orgasm paralyzed my mind.

My helmet felt hot, Charlie's mouth felt hot, and each gush of cream was hot enough to give me a burning feeling as it rushed toward the tip. I felt Charlie sucking hard on my tip, drawing each drop out, and my cock-root convulsed again as I shot another gush. After a few more spasms, it was over, and I felt my body relax. My tip was extremely sensitive, and I pulled away from Charlie's mouth. Charlie had swallowed every drop.

As I returned to normal, my prick began deflating, and Charlie grasped my foreskin and pulled its opening wide. Satisfied that he could fit his large, shapely head inside, he shifted position on the bed until our cocks were literally tip to tip. He stretched the opening of my hood again, and slowly slid the dome of his bell inside it. There was now plenty of room, and I felt his glans slide easily farther inside, well lubricated by my cream. Now he clamped his fingers around the end of my foreskin, locking it into the groove behind his ridge.

I didn't have my own excitement to distract me, and I concentrated on the sensations of another man's cock-head inside my hood. Charlie's tip stretched my foreskin, and it felt very warm against my glans. He began thrusting slowly, gently, and I savored every sensation, every subtle feeling, as I felt his swollen bell-head sliding inside my foreskin. I clamped my fingers around the base of his cock again to make him swell even more, and heard him sigh.

I was looking right into his eyes as they closed, and I knew he was on the brink. I could almost feel him withdrawing deep inside himself as the sensations rose in his cock-tip, and he began sliding down the sharp slope towards the brink. Suddenly, I felt his glans throb hard against mine, and a hot gush erupted from the hole and spread all over my helmet, mixing with the residue of my discharge. Another jet filled my foreskin, and I felt it wash over my glans, seeping back to my ridge. Another load erupted from Charlie's tip, this time filling the groove behind my rim.

Charlie groaned in delight, and I felt his body shudder against mine, as the orgasm transported him to the pinnacle of sensation. I knew that this time, it was as much psychological as physical, because he was having his climax inside a warm, living foreskin, not an inert and inanimate condom. Charlie gasped, his chest heaved, and another gush erupted from his hot bell-shaped tip onto mine. It was weaker than before, and I felt his orgasm slow as his glans throbbed against mine.

Now it was over, and his cock began to shrivel, and I saw thick ropes of cream seep from under my hood, running onto the bed be cause we'd forgotten to spread a towel. However, Charlie got up, and I helped him strip the bed and put on a new bottom sheet.

The End

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