An Evening with Rich
MM
By Jack Santoro
I was in Southern California for a week on business, and on this Friday evening I decided to splurge and have dinner at an exclusive (read expensive!) Beverly Hills restaurant. I'd anticipated eating a good meal and paying about five times what it was worth, and I was right.
The headwaiter had seated me at a table for two, one of a row along the back of the room. Along the wall was a long bench, and on the other side of each table was a chair. I was sitting on the bench side, alone at my table. Right next to me was another man about my age, seated on the bench, also alone. He had a very friendly face, and I thought I recognized him as a supporting actor from several films I'd seen. He noticed me looking at him, and smiled at me.
"I'm dining alone. I hope you haven't been stood up."
"No, I'm alone too. I'm in town for a few days on business, and decided to make a night of it." I paused, wondering whether or not to ask him if he was, indeed, the actor. Then I decided to go for it, and asked.
"Yes I am," he replied. "Not many people recognize me, and nobody's asked for my autograph in over two years," he admitted modestly and with a laugh. I was relieved that he didn't seem to take himself too seriously, and wondered if perhaps he was as nice a guy in real life as he played on-screen.
By the time we'd gotten to dessert, we'd exchanged many personal details. I'd told him that I had been married a long time ago, that I'd had a couple of unsuccessful affairs after my stormy divorce, and that I was resigned to being alone for the rest of my life. He'd revealed that he was my age, (early 40s) had never been married, and that he'd learned to cope with loneliness. His work was sporadic, leaving him lots of free time.
"I've enjoyed talking with you," he said. "We could continue the conversation at the bar, but we could also go to my house. That would be cheaper and more private, and I live over in Santa Monica," he offered.
"Okay, I'll follow you," I replied. When we arrived and parked in his driveway, he led me out to his patio, facing a garden enclosed by a high slat fence. We stood facing each other for a moment. He was a couple of inches shorter than my six feet, with a square head, brown hair and eyes, and a pleasant smile on his full lips. There was a full moon, and it was very quiet.
"My neighbors go to sleep early," he said. "We're all alone out here." We sat in lounge chairs side by side.
"Very nice place," I said. "I guess you live alone."
"Very much alone. Would you like a drink? I've had enough alcohol for this evening, but I'll fix you a martini if you'd like."
"No, no more alcohol for me, either. I'm just fine right now. Thanks, anyway."
"Okay, in any event, I have a spare bedroom. I don't have to work for a couple of weeks yet, so I've got little to do right now. It doesn't matter, though. I've learned to live alone."
"I'm sure I'll get used to it as well," I said.
"You will. Masturbation takes care of physical relief."
"It does for me," I replied.
"Still, it feels better with another guy's hand on my cock," he said as he dropped his open hand onto the chair's arm between us. I immediately placed my hand over his palm to palm, to let him know nonverbally that I felt the same way.
"On a warm summer night like this, I like to get completely naked out here," he said, giving my hand a light squeeze.
"I like that idea," I added, because I felt I was now committed. He stood and removed his shirt. I took off my shoes, and then stood to face him.
"Can I take off your pants?" I asked. He stood silently and I undid his belt, letting his pants slip to the tiles. In the bright moonlight, I saw the bulge at the front of his jockeys, the outline of his penis clearly visible through the double layer of cloth at the front. I ran my finger over his glans through the cloth.
"Feels nice, very nice,' he said.
"Those jockeys look so white against your skin," I said as I began to slip them down. His penis was beginning to swell, arcing down over his ball sac, his naked helmet-shaped glans adorning the end of his shaft. He stepped out of his clothes and began to unbutton my shirt. When he'd removed it, he undid my belt and pushed my pants down to reveal my boxer shorts.
"I can't see yours through the cloth, so I'll have to go by feel," he said as he slipped his fingers inside the opening in the front of my shorts. His warm fingers closed eagerly around my penis and he spoke again:
"Oh, you've got a foreskin! I really like that. I haven't had one since a few days after I was born." He gave my hood a couple of light tugs and before I could get fully hard pushed my shorts down my legs. Our fingers continued to explore each other's anatomies, touching, pulling, caressing, until we were fully hard. Now he hugged me tightly to him. Our pricks were up between our stomachs, pressed against each other.
"You feel so warm," I commented.
"You, too," he said. "I know we're going to enjoy this." I reached between us and cupped his scrotum. His warm fingers began slowly stroking my foreskin, stretching it, twisting it, and testing its limits.
"That feels really good," I encouraged him.
"I really get off on foreskin," he said. "You've got a long thick one, and I'll enjoy making you come by stroking you. However, I'm going to need some lube for mine." He let go of my penis and went into the house, returning with a small plastic squeeze bottle. I took it from him and held his penis in my other hand while I squeezed lubricant onto the shaft and head, working it in with my fingers and making him sigh in delight.
"I'll make you come this way," I said as I twisted my fist around the forward end of his penis. He shuddered and sighed, and grasped my penis again.
"I like the way your foreskin covers the head all the way, even when you're hard," he said as he stroked it back and forth gently. "I know the head's very sensitive, so I'll go easy." I was now caressing his penis in long, oily strokes, from the base to the glans, knowing that each stroke added to his excitement.
"We'll have to decide who comes first," I said. "It's better if we come one after the other, instead of trying to come together. I want to be able to concentrate on giving you pleasure when you're coming."
"Let's play it by ear and see how this develops," he said as his fingers pushed my foreskin all the way back off the head. "Our pricks are a lot like. We've both got helmet shaped heads, and in this light they both seem purple."
"They both seem to be about six inches long," I added. "We've both got straight shafts, and we've each got a big vein on the right."
"They're like twins, except that my foreskin's gone," he said ruefully. "I've always wished I still had my foreskin."
"I'll be glad to share mine with you," I said.
"That's sweet of you," he replied. "I really enjoy playing with it." He leaned over to kiss me on the cheek.
"My balls are tight, but yours hang down a bit," I said.
"Mine tighten up when I become excited," he said. "They're about the same size as yours." His fingers now stretched my foreskin forward over my glans, stroking it sensually. I kept stroking his warm penis in long slow caresses, from base to tip. After a few minutes of silent slow stroking I spoke;
"Rich, you've got me really hot. I don't think I can hold out much longer."
"I know you're close to coming. I can feel how the head's swelled through the skin, and I can sense the tension in your body." His fingers continued to move my foreskin up and down my helmet as he spoke.
"You're right. Your magic fingers are really doing a number on my prick."
"Here, sit down on the grass," he suggested. "Spread your legs, and let me bring on your orgasm." I sat and Rich crouched next to my right side, his penis almost touching my side, and his hand clasped firmly around the end of my hard shaft.
"I'll keep doing you while you make me come, okay?"
"Go ahead, Jack. My cock's not as sensitive as yours, so I don't think I'll be coming for awhile. Anyway, making you come is going to work me up a lot. I don't think I'll be able to hold off much longer after I've made you shoot." His fingers continued their insistent stroking of my foreskin, pulling it back from my swollen glans until it snapped down into the deep groove behind my rim, and then pulling it forward again to engulf the engorged helmet. I felt a light tickling feeling begin in the head.
"You're really reaching me, Rich, and I know I'm going to blast off soon." The tickling intensified, and my legs began trembling slightly. My right fist still enclosed his hardness, moving in slow strokes over the lubricated surface.
"I'm going to slow down a bit, Jack, to let you enjoy those last few seconds before you come." Rich was a master at stimulating a penis, and understood the extra pleasure in the last few moments of anticipation before the onset of orgasm.
"You're making my tip tingle..." I said weakly as my eyes closed. His other arm wrapped around my shoulders.
"Just relax and let the feeling take you," he whispered as his fingers brought me slowly closer to the point of no return. I felt a slight throb deep in my cock-root, a precursor of the fiery orgasm that would soon consume me, and I shuddered.
"Ooooohhhhhhh..." I moaned as the sensations built up in my groin. The tingling in my tip had become powerful, absorbing all of my attention, and my awareness of the outside world faded. My glans was swollen, almost painfully so, and ached for release.
"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" I heard myself grunt as the heavy pounding of orgasm began in my cock-root, ejecting a hot torrent of cream into my urethra. The hot stream burned its way up my tube, slamming through the lips of my slit, and I cried out again. Another hot contraction seized me, and I felt another jet of lava shooting up through my penis, following the curve of my urethra as it went up into my glans, before erupting into the air.
"Go for it, Jack," he whispered in my ear as he held me tightly and continued his delicious strokes on my throbbing penis. I shot again, and when he pulled back hard on my foreskin, baring the glans and stretching the nerve endings, my cock-root convulsed again. Now he let go, and my penis stood out proudly in the night air, throbbing and releasing weakening dribbles of sperm as my orgasm slowly ended.
"That was beautiful to see," he said as I sat dazed by the systemic shock of orgasm. "I felt your cock throb, and saw each jet shoot while you came." I opened my eyes and saw that my cock was still erect, the big helmet encircled by the thick foreskin collar behind the rim. My right hand was still around his penis, and I resumed caressing it. My left hand slipped my foreskin forward to engulf my glans.
"Thanks, Rich, but now you sit down and let me do you." I got to my knees and Rich sat where I'd been, legs spread, while I continued to stroke his hard penis. My other hand cupped his balls, gently kneading the egg-shaped glands inside the sac.
"Watching and feeling you made me so hot..." he trailed off as I tightened my grip around his hard shaft and glans.
"Now it's your turn," I said as I gave his glans an extra twist. I felt his penis throb in response, and heard him grunt.
"I'm going to twist my fist right behind the head," I explained. "I know you're most sen sitive around your rim and the skin behind it, right down to your scar ring." I took long strokes on his penis, but gave my fist a hard twist as I reached the area behind his swollen corona. My fingers rode over the flare and continued down the tapered glans, until my palm caressed the blunt nose, then I tightened my fingers and began the reverse stroke, bumping over his upturned rim.
"You know just how to do it," he grunted. Rich's breathing was heavy now, and I knew he was close to the brink. I kept kneading his sac with my left hand while my right worked on his prick, following the contours and caressing the nerve endings. I saw his eyes close, and a moment later his outstretched legs jerked.
"YAHHHHHHHHHH!" he yelled as the first wave of orgasm overtook him. I felt the heavy throb in his cock just before a thick white jet shot from his tip onto the grass. He yelled again as another spasm convulsed him, sending another torrent of cream to mix with mine on the lawn. The throbs of his prick ran through my encircling fingers as I twisted them around the sexy flare of his glans to enhance his sensations.
After a couple more jets, I released his penis, as I felt it might have become overly sensitive, and watched his last dribbles pouring from his tip. He sagged against me, and I held him tightly. When he finally opened his eyes, he smiled at me.
"That was sensational," he began. "It felt like my entire body was shooting out through my dick."
"You were really primed for it," I replied.
"I was, because you let me play with your foreskin and make you come before starting on me. That was very exciting for me, watching you come and stroking your foreskin."
"It was nice for me when you did it," I said. "You saw how hot my orgasm was."
"I guess as hot as mine." We slowly got up and soon were again sitting side by side in the lounge chairs.
"Thanks for inviting me," I said.
"I'm glad you came, in both senses of the word," he replied. "I really enjoyed the evening with you."
"I did too, and a lot of it was because you're a really nice guy, Rich."
"So are you, Jack. I felt comfortable with you since the first moment we spoke in the restaurant."
"I feel the same way about you."
"You have to stay the night, Jack. I want to wake up tomorrow morning and see your face next to me on the pillow."
"I'll be glad to, Rich."
"Good. Let's go to bed now. I think we both need sleep." We shared his queen size double bed that night, sleeping in each other's arms.
The end