Beginning with Paul, Part 3
By JackSantoro@yahoo.com
Paul's tongue-tip flicked around the base of my corona, hitting all the nerve endings in its sweep around the circumference. From the flared rim on top, his tongue worked down one side, following the rim as it swept forward on its way to the underside, where it ended in a lobe welded to the lobe from the other side of my glans. Just back of where the two sides joined my gee-string was attached to the bottom of the deep triangular groove, and Paul's tongue strummed it before starting up the other side. When he got to the top again he swiped his tongue across my pouting slit while pumping my foreskin up and down to cover and compress the crown.
I was filled with a sense of anticipation, awaiting the moment when I'd go over the top and plunge into the abyss of orgasm, tumbling in a mass of sensations. Paul's tongue produced a tickle wherever it touched my swollen tip, and underlying the tickle was the delicious ache from congested blood that had engorged my helmet and turned it to a dark shade of purple. It would be only seconds before the tickle turned into the familiar, mind-numbing hot tingle that would launch my orgasm and send torrents of cream boiling from the lips of my distended slit.
Paul and I had eaten a hearty breakfast, our appetites stimulated both by last night's docking and this morning's head-to-head frottage that had sucked the cream from our bodies. We'd immediately undressed when we entered my bedroom, both of us feeling that we could never get enough from each other. Now, however, our erections were slower to rise, and weren't quite as firm as before, lacking that steely hardness that long unfulfilled desire can produce.
"I never get tired of handling your skin," Paul said as he sat next to me on the bed. I knew exactly what he meant, as I'd seen the psychic stimulation he'd derived from playing with my foreskin heighten his excitement and enhance the intensity of his orgasms.
"My prick enjoys the attention," I assured him as I squeezed his helmet-shaped glans, permanently laid bare by circumcision. Each squeeze produced a responsive throb in his cock-root, pumping up his erection notch by notch.
"I love the way your uncircumcised dick smells, but I guess you're tired of hearing me say that," he said. I drew him to me and kissed him on the lips, lightly but meaningfully.
"I never get tired of hearing it," I reassured him. "I'm glad you enjoy it, and your enjoyment makes it hotter for me."
"That was wild, the way our tips throbbed against each other yesterday and today. I could feel you coming, not just in my fingers but in my tip." Paul looked me in the eyes as he announced this, and I was swept by a rush of emotion that made me envelop him in my arms and drag him down on the mattress, where I kissed his lips, forehead, cheeks, neck, and nipples as I worked my way down to his prick. Paul kissed me back, and we twisted our bodies into a "69" position as we worked lower.
"I think we'd both enjoy making each other come with our mouths this time," I suggested just before I touched my tongue-tip to his slit, tasting the droplet of natural lubricant that was seeping between the lips.
"I'd love to suck on your cock until you can't hold back any more," he said. "I want to feel you coming in my mouth, taste your juice on my tongue, and swallow it."
"Let's do it," I said. "I think we ought to go slowly, though, so that we have a long build-up."
"I know what you mean," Paul said understandingly. "We've shot two big loads each, and it's going to take time to get worked up enough to the point where we were this morning."
"Right," I agreed. "Anyway, I always found that if I take my time, it's more intense when I finally come."
"I've always had the same experience," Paul added. "It's more intense for me, and it also lasts longer." Paul was gently stroking my foreskin, bumping the base of my glans but not letting the hood ride over the rim.
"I'll keep squeezing your big tip a while longer," I told him. "I want to keep you hard, but not bring you too close to the edge."
"Maybe we can make it last two hours," Paul surmised. Edging for two hours would be great." Now he had my foreskin all the way back to bare the deep groove behind my rim, and his tongue plunged into it avidly.
"Take it easy," I advised him as I cupped his tightening ball-sac with my left hand. "The way you're going, you'll have my load in a couple of minutes."
"I keep forgetting that your tip's so much more sensitive than mine," he said. "I'll go slow, so that you won't pop off before you're ready." He still held my swollen prick with his right hand, but withdrew his mouth and began tickling my scrotal hairs with the fingertips of his left hand, sending a shiver through my body.
I used my tongue to caress the areas of his prick I knew were sensitive, beginning on the shaft where I worked around his thick brown circumcision scar. As I felt him slide his fingertips back behind my tight scrotum to caress the hairs on my perineum, I licked at the tender tissue between his scar ring and the corona, working my tongue into the groove behind the head.
"Mother Nature was really good to you," I commented as I paused tonguing his prick. His straight shaft and prominent helmet were very much like mine, and I always enjoyed handling his prick.
"Mother Nature was good to both of us," Paul replied. "Your helmet is so smooth. I was born with a nice cock, but that damn doctor cut the skin off mine."
"I'll make it up to you," I promised. "I'll make you come hard and long." I knew I could do it, teasing his prick and keeping him just below the point of no return until he begged me to let him come. Now I felt his mouth envelop my glans, hot lips locked behind the rim while his tongue worked passionately over the broad upper surface before drawing back to swipe across the sensitive lips of my pouting slit.
I did the same to him, feeling the engorged glans harden even further in my mouth as it lost its sponginess and filled with more blood.
"We'd better take a break," he suggested. "I feel like my tip's about to explode and yours is very hard too." We broke off, turning onto our backs, our pricks flopping down against our stomachs.
"We'll make this one last," I told him. "Let's give it a couple of minutes to cool off."
"You ever press a finger into your tube behind your balls when you start to come?" he asked. "I've done that a couple of times. That makes it really hot."
"I've done that," I answered. "When I block my urethra, the pressure really builds up inside it with each shot, and sometimes it leaks back into my bladder."
"That's what happens with me too, and then after I'm finished, I piss cream for a couple of seconds."
"How many ways have you experimented with to make your climax hotter?" I asked. I'd been experimenting at ways to intensify my orgasm since I'd begun masturbating at age 12 and was curious about his experienced.
"I've used all sorts of thing," he replied. "Since I work in an adult shop, I can get all sorts of sex toys at a discount, and I've tried most of them. One of my favorites is a vibrator."
"I've used one a few times," I said. "I've got one here, in fact."
"I bought a standard model a few years ago," he explained. "It worked pretty good but the one problem with it was the cup that fits over the head. It's one-size-fits-all." It's got some slits so the sides expand for different size heads, but it doesn't make good contact all round. That's when I decided to make a custom cup for myself. I bought some "Friendly Plastic." This is plastic you can heat and mold to any shape you want. I made a cup that fits perfectly over my big helmet, and it worked like gangbusters."
"What happened?" I asked.
"The first time I tried it, I stood next to the bathroom sink to catch my come. When I turned it on it was so hot that I came in less than a minute, and then when it hit me my knees buckled. I had to hold on to the counter to keep from falling."
"That sounds intense, much better than the usual jerk-off."
"It was, Jack, it was! I thought all my insides were spewing out through my dick. I just flooded the sink."
"I'd like to have seen that," I affirmed. "In fact, I would have liked to be holding your prick when you shot, to feel it throbbing."
"It was throbbing, all right. My tip was swollen more than it had ever been, and the cream shot out of the sides of the cup."
"What was it like afterward?" I prompted.
"I felt really empty, drained. I'd shot everything I had in me. What happened when you used your vibrator?"
"Well, I've got only the standard cup, and it didn't fit my helmet very well. I thought the sensations should have been better, but they still were pretty good. I shot my load in a minute, and then took it off and relaxed."
"When you come over Monday you can try mine," he said. "It fits my helmet and since yours is so much like mine in size and shape, it should fit you perfectly." As he spoke I rolled again to face his prick and grasped the shaft at the base.
"Ever try clamping your fingers hard around the shaft?" I asked. "I've done that to constrict the veins. That makes my prick get rock-hard even when I'm not fully excited."
"I learned that trick from a guy I used to jack off with," Paul admitted. "That works pretty well when I'm tired, or when I don't have much time."
"I know what you mean," I said as I tightened my grip on Paul's prick. "Sometimes I've just jacked myself to relax and get to sleep, and this helped a lot." Paul now turned toward me, clamping his fingers around the base of my prick. I felt blood rush into my glans, distending it even more. Meanwhile, his swollen helmet had darkened in front of my eyes.
"Both our tips are really hard now," he remarked. My foreskin was still fully back, and I felt his tongue caressing my corona systematically, up one side and down the other, pausing only to strum my frenulum at the bottom.
I probed Paul's slit with my tongue-tip, knowing that his orifice hadn't been desensitized by circumcision. His prick throbbed in my hand, and I knew that he was getting the full sensation. Now his tongue-tip probed my slit, and I shuddered in response.
"Your lube tastes good," he said, and I realized that I'd been seeping during our conversation, ever though he hadn't touched my prick for several minutes. I tasted the slippery, salty discharge that oozed from his orifice, and I commented:
"So does yours, Paul. You've been leaking too."
"I get turned on by conversations like this," he said. "Hell, I get turned on being close to you. Just looking at your hard dick makes me hot."
"You make me hot too," I confessed. "I really want to suck your cream and feel your prick throb against my tongue." Now I lapped around his scar ring again, working my way up to the prominent rim, where I caressed the back-face and the sexy flare on top.
"Our balls have been tight almost since we started," he said. "We're both pretty hot."
"All the more reason to be careful," I advised. "We don't want this to be over too soon."
Any time you want, I'll make you come," he said. "Watching you come and feeling you shoot inside my mouth is going to be very exciting."
"Let's take a few minutes more," I counseled. "I know you're hot, but I want you even hotter before you let go."
"I want you to come first, Jack. Your cock's more sensitive, but I want to feel your dick throb before I drop my load."
"Okay, I'll go first, Paul. Take your time, though." Paul's tongue worked around my rim again, up and down, licking at my frenulum and my slit, caressing the blunt front dome of my helmet, giving me sensations all over its surface. He worked on the back-face of my rim, tickling the little buds of sensation that grew there, and I shuddered again.
Meanwhile, I systematically caressed his hot hard prick with my tongue and lips. I locked my lips behind his rim as I cupped his balls, and caressed the broad upper surface of his glans. I felt Paul's fingers relax around the base of my prick.
"Your tip's really hot and hard," he observed. "I don't have to squeeze your veins anymore. It's really dark now." I knew it was, because I felt the tickling and the mild pleasant ache that told me my glans needed full release. I saw that the veins in Paul's shaft bulged with blood, and I loosened my grip as well, noting that his helmet remained fully distended.
"I'd better stop working on you," I told him. "You know how I get convulsions when I come, and I wouldn't want to bite you."
"Fine, Jack, you just relax and let me do the work," he said before resuming his attack on my penis. I let go of his prick. I felt him pucker his lips around my blunt front dome, and bump my thick foreskin ring against my hard corona. My sensations built up as I thought only of my impending release. My awareness of the world outside my body dimmed as my consciousness focused on my prick.
Tension built in my body despite my efforts to remain relaxed. The coffee I'd drunk with breakfast filled my bladder, producing a delightful pressure that enhanced the sensations in my groin. My prick was very hard, straining with the pressure of the blood that filled it, and I knew I was near the edge.
Paul sensed this, because he eased up, keeping me in anticipation for a few more precious seconds. My eyes closed, and now I was aware only of his fingers, lips, and tongue on the most sensitive part of my body. Lube poured from my slit, and he avidly lapped it up, swirling his lips around my rim while his tongue gently worked the nose of my glans.
Inevitably, the sensations mounted, bringing me to the edge, and now I felt a hot tingle in my glans. I began to moan, and Paul worked his mouth aggressively up and down my tingling helmet, bringing my foreskin up over the ridge when he lifted his mouth. Moving down with his lips, he pushed my foreskin down to bare the entire glans to his mouth and tongue.
My helmet exploded with liquid fire, and my insides churned with the start of orgasm. I cried out as a torrent of cream gushed into my urethra, and then I felt his fingers pressing hard behind my balls, chocking off my tube. Another discharge flooded my urethra, trapped by the insistent pressure of Paul's fingers. I cried out helplessly as multiple sensations flooded my lower body, my trapped ejaculations distending my tube as more fluid poured into it.
My tip became too sensitive and Paul stopped moving his mouth when he heard my anguished cry. He also released the pressure on my tube and I felt a burning sensation as the fluid boiled up my prick in one unrelenting gush. His lips were pursed around my orifice and he sucked the discharge as it erupted into his mouth.
I blew a few more loads, mindlessly, automatically, until I was totally drained. My body relaxed and my prick softened as I slid into the limbo of afterglow.
Many minutes later Paul's voice told me:
Come on, you need to pee." He helped me up and walked me to the bathroom sink, where he aimed my still-exposed glans into the bowl. I relaxed and saw a thick gush of white cream precede my yellow stream. It must have taken a minute for me to drain myself completely, during which I noticed that his prick was still hard and seeping lube. I grasped his shaft and rubbed my thumb over his leaking orifice, spreading the slippery liquid in small circles around his slit, feeling him shudder in response.
"I am so hot from making you come," he said. I felt your big tip throbbing in my mouth...."
"You really drained me," I told him. "I'm finished for the day, except for taking care of you." By this time my stream had finished and only a couple of drops leaked from the lips of my slit. Paul shook my prick gently and pulled the foreskin down to encase the now shrunken helmet.
Back on the bed we faced each other in the "69" position, and I clamped my fingers around the base of his shaft to make sure his prick was fully engorged. The effect was immediate. Even though his helmet was now dry, as my saliva had evaporated, it turned glossy and purple with the trapped blood.
My tongue-tip probed his slit, and then worked under the head, tackling the frenulum. I went up the right side to the sexy flare on top, and then down the other side into the vee-groove again. Now I engulfed the entire hemet, locking my lips around the brown scar ring behind it, and began a stroking motion, my lips caressing his scar and the delicate tissue between it and the rim. My tongue worked over the broad upper surface of his glans, massaging the nerve endings buried in the tissues.
Paul's breathing was more rapid now, signaling that his excitement was mounting, and I cupped his tight sac with the fingers of my left hand, fingertips pressed lightly into the tender flesh behind it. I knew that when he unleashed his orgasm, I'd feel the first pulse in his urethra, and be able to block it, retaining his ejaculations. He'd given me an explosive orgasm despite my depleted conditions, and I wanted to give him no less. Now I withdrew my mouth slightly so that my lips encircled his prominent corona, and began working the skin of his shaft back and forth. It stretched just enough to bump his rim, and on the back-stroke I tugged enough to stretch its nerve endings. Paul's breathing was shallow and rapid, and he was moaning softly with each exhalation. The surface of his glans was smooth and rock-hard, the mucous membrane covering fully distended. I tasted the slippery saltiness emanating from his pouting slit, savoring the flavor as I continued to work on his prick. The veins along the shaft bulged with trapped blood. "Oh, that's great, Jack," he whispered softly, urgently, as his arousal neared the peak. I wasn't trying to tease his prick now, because he truly needed to drain himself in the same explosive way I'd poured out my juice, in a hot release that would leave him dazed. "I'm feeling that tickle," he whispered. As I was sure his prick was completely distended, I removed my hand from around the base and pressed in against his lower abdomen, increasing the pressure in his bladder to heighten his sensations and intensify his impending orgasm. Paul moaned loudly, and even more loudly when I scraped the top surface of his helmet with my teeth. I pulled forward hard on his skin, pressing the flesh against the back-face of his corona, working him up to the point of no return. "It's tingling," he said in an agonized voice, and I scraped the delicate nerve endings again, launching his orgasm. "AAAAHHHHH!" he yelled as the hot blast of his climax overwhelmed him. His glans throbbed hard in my mouth, and I felt the pulse behind his scrotum and pressed in hard, constricting the tube and trapping the cream. I knew that the hot lava stream was searing his urethra, producing divine sensations that made him yelp again as his tube pulsed a second time as his helmet hammered my tongue. I didn't have to swallow, as nothing emerged from his slit, and I was able to concentrate on maximizing his sensations. Paul yelped again, the blissful agony evident in his voice, as the third shock-wave hit him. Now I released the pressure and as his glans throbbed in my mouth it shot a thick and heavy stream of his viscous juice down my throat. I swallowed hard and had to swallow again as the stream continued. The odor of chlorine filled my mouth and nasal passages. His helmet throbbed again, releasing another hot torrent into my mouth as Paul continued moaning and yelping uncontrollably. I gave his glans one last scrape of my teeth and made him cry out again as his throbbing prick erupted again. Now I simply worked his helmet with my lips to maintain his sensations as the jets declined and finally settled into a slow dribble. I ran my fingertip up his urethra, from behind his balls along the underside of his shaft, draining the last drops from his tortured prick. He was helpless in my arms as I lifted him from the bed and walked him to the bathroom. His erection was fading fast, and by the time we reached the sink it arced down toward the floor. I supported him as he came down fully from his high, and his body relaxed against mine. "Just relax, Paul," I suggested. "Just go limp and let it happen." In another minute his sphincter relaxed and a slow dribble of white cream emerged from his slit, followed by yellow fluid slowly increasing to a bold stream. I continued to support Paul as he drained himself, and when the flow had decreased to a few drops, we stepped into the shower. We soaped each other languidly, totally relaxed, enjoying the intimacy, and then rinsed and dried ourselves. Back in the bedroom we sank into a deep sleep, totally satisfied and blissful in each others' arms. Monday would come soon enough.
Continued in Part 4