Betrayal

Betrayal

By Jacksantoro@yahoo.com

My neighbor Bill and I are Bi, and have comfortable relationships with our wives, neither of whom suspects our intimacy. Bill and I have been very discreet for years, and know just what it takes to keep our secret relationship under wraps. An example is our hunting trips. Neither Bill nor I are interested in shooting an animal, as we prefer to get our meats from the supermarket, but our wives don't even suspect that. They just think we're unlucky.

We take our .223 rifles and leave for several days upstate in my Lexus SUV. Our wives don't know that the .223 caliber is marginal for big game, luckily for us. We book a cabin at the same hunting lodge we've used for years, and spend the time enjoying our bodies instead of tramping in the woods.

Bill and I are the same age, 34, about the same height, six feet, but he's blond and I have brown hair. Other differences are that my eyes are brown and his blue. Below the waist we look as if nature gave us twins. We both have six inches erect, with bulbous helmets adorning the ends of our shafts. Our heavy ended pricks sway from side to side as we walk. While our balls aren't "low hangers," they do tighten up with excitement.

What nature provides, however, man sometimes takes away. While I've got everything I was born with, Bill had the misfortune of having been delivered by a doctor who was a mutilation maniac. A few days after he'd been born, the doctor ripped off his foreskin, something that Bill has resented all of his life. He's always been very envious of intact guys, who were able to masturbate the way nature intended, sliding their hoods up and down the glans. Even as a boy, he'd look enviously at the lucky kids who hadn't been clipped.

This is why Bill's always been attracted to and fascinated by my foreskin. When my prick is limp, I have a two-inch overhang dangling from the end of my helmet. Even hard, there's enough foreskin to cover my glans and I have a generous pucker in front. Bill loves to handle my foreskin, pulling and twisting it as he watches the effect of his manipulations on my excitement.

We were in the cabin, having arrived a couple of hours earlier. After bringing in the food and unpacking, we'd had dinner and then undressed. It had been a long drive and we wanted to take a shower. Under the hot water, Bill played with my foreskin, with which he'd become very familiar during the last few years. Long ago he'd learned that if I have to urinate in the shower, I'd pinch the end of my long hood shut, trapping the flow until my long foreskin distended almost to the point of discomfort.

The hot water had made us both want to pee, and now while the stream drained from his glans he was holding my foreskin shut. It swelled rapidly, and at the right moment, Bill released the end of the foreskin's nipple. A thick gush poured from the orifice, splashing over our legs and mixing with his before flushing down the drain. He quickly pinched my foreskin again, and we watched it swell. He repeated the cycle until I was drained, after which he skinned me back ti rinse off the glans.

"You never wash it with soap, do you?" he asked.

"No, there's no need," I replied. "My hands get dirty, and sometimes very dirty, but my foreskin and helmet never need soap or scrubbing. Anyway, I don't want to get any soap underneath because that's irritating. I did that once as a kid, and my tip and foreskin got very red and sore. Since, I've made sure it's rinsed off before I push the foreskin forward again."

"I know about soap making your cock sore," Bill said. "When I starting jacking off, I did it in the shower and used soap for lubrication. That felt good while I was doing it, but after the skin of my cock was sore. That's when I started experimenting with other stuff, like Vaseline, Jergen's Lotion, and hand cream."

"I'm glad I never needed a lube, with my foreskin. I started jacking by sliding the foreskin up and down. I even sometimes pinched the end shut when I came."

"How old were you when you started pinching your skin shut when you pee?

"I started as a kid. I was maybe five or six. It was pleasurable and as I found out later, it also helped stretch the skin and work it loose so I could skin back. I think all the uncut boys do that. A friend of mine told me his father taught him to do that because he had a really tight foreskin, and it worked like a charm."

"I guess masturbation helped work your skin loose too," Bill suggested.

"You bet it did," I agreed. "Once I started working my foreskin up and down my tip, it got looser very quickly. That's something my uncut friend's father told him too. He said that beating off was not only okay, but good for him because it loosened his hood."

"I think it's good for everybody," said Bill. "It doesn't spread disease, and it doesn't cause unwanted pregnancy. If we have a son I'm going to make sure he knows about masturbation as soon as he's ready." Neither Bill nor I had any children, but Bill's wife Eileen was pregnant. I guessed that if the baby turned out to be a boy, Bill would not want him circumcised.

We dried ourselves and got onto the bed, where Bill's fingers quickly found my prick. I reached for a bottle of Astroglide because Bill, not having a foreskin, needed lubrication on his prick.

"I want to stroke your cock tonight," he said. "I want to watch you get off with that skin." He began gently stroking my foreskin up and down in small strokes, and my prick responded by hardening. I poured several drops of Astroglide on Bill's prick and began stroking it, but with more pressure, because we both knew that his tip wasn't as sensitive as mine.

"I love the way you do that," I told him. "You're an expert at stroking my prick." He was working my long foreskin up and down without baring the helmet.

"I've had a lot of practice," he said.

"Well, keep practicing. I love it," I said. Bill now began to skin me back in stages. He first drew my foreskin down just far enough to make the puckered opening widen on the front of my glans, enough so that he could see my slit.

"You're nice and hard, Jack. Your slit's already pouting," he observed. With erection, my slit gaped to form a teardrop shaped opening. Bill's prick was hard in my hand, and I saw that his slit, although longer than mine, did not pout or gape. However, I squeezed his glans as I worked my fingers down on it, and my finger pressure spread the lips of his orifice.

"You've got a really nice helmet," I said.

"So do you, Jack. I know my wife likes to feel it slipping in and out of her. How about yours?"

"My wife's the same. A lot of times I don't go in very deep. She likes it best when I just work the head in and out. Both of us are thicker than average, and I think women enjoy a thick prick more than one that's longer but thinner."

"Yeah," acknowledged Bill. "My wife told me that the part of my cock she likes best is the big head. She says she can really feel that rim when I just work the head in and out."

"When I do that," I said, "my wife tightens down on it. That tightness around the rim makes me come. I just can't hold back when she tightens down on it. When she starts to come she gets very tight, and I follow her a couple of seconds later."

Now Bill drew my foreskin up again to encase my helmet, and then reversed to draw in down again, a bit farther this time, enough to stretch the opening to the size of a dime. A drop of clear lubricant had filled the gap between the lips of my slit. Bill touched a finger to it and brought it to his mouth, tasting my lube. He brought my hood up, and then pulled it down again, this time widening the opening to the size of a quarter. He leaned down and I felt his breath as he blew on my glans, sending a thrill through my prick. I felt my scrotum start to tighten.

"I love the smell of your cock, Jack. You smell like a real man. You taste good, too." I, too, smelled the aroma of my wet glans and foreskin filling the air.

"I'll give you a thrill," I said as I twisted my fist around his helmet, giving him the delicious sideways friction around his corona that he enjoyed so much. He gasped, and I saw his scrotum begin to contract. Bill now pulled my foreskin all the way up to form a pucker beyond my glans. Now he gently pulled it down again, this time halfway down my helmet, far enough to leave the blunt front dome open to his gaze and touch. He blew on it again, sending another thrill into my body.

"I love doing this with you," he said tenderly as he raised his head to kiss me on the lips.

"I know, Bill. It's not just physical for either of us. We enjoy each other's company, the togetherness, the sharing."

"We enjoy each other's company even when we're not having sex," he continued. "There's something about two guys getting together that we can't have with women, not even our wives. There's no game playing between us, no bullshit." He was right. Bill and I were able to confide in each other more intimately than we could with our wives. We never had to worry about hidden agendas or the other games women play. At that point we had no inkling of the game Bill's wife was going to play on him.

"I know what you like, Jack. I'm going to stroke you until you're close to coming and then I'll skin it back hard. I know you love having your skin stretched back, and I can watch your big tip shoot." Bill had brought my foreskin all the way up again, and now he drew it all the way down until it snapped into the deep groove behind my rim.

"I know you like my fingers twisting around your tip when you come," I said. "I'll make sure to do that so you have a really hot one." Now I began giving him longer strokes, so that when I was ready to shoot he wouldn't be too far behind. We'd long ago agreed that he'd make me come first, which was natural because my prick's more sensitive than his circumcised model.

Bill continued to give me long strokes, compressing my rim as he brought the foreskin up over it for the long ride up the taper of my glans. Each stroke stretched the nerve endings in my foreskin, giving me a sensation he'd never know. Now our balls were tight against our bodies, held in place by our contracted scrotal sacs. Bill's fingers tightened slightly on my prick as he drew my foreskin down, down, until it had cleared the rim, and then he pulled down farther, baring the groove that rarely sees the light of day. I felt the tension in my frenulum as he stretched its nerve endings.

"When I pull your skin down hard like this, it makes the front of your helmet bend forward," he observed. "I know it feels good to you."

"It feels very good," I whispered, feeling the delicious tension in my gee-string. He flicked the index finger of his left hand sideways on my gee-string, making my prick jerk as I gasped in surprise at the sudden shock of sensation.

"That really got to you, I see. Let's do it again." He flicked his fingertip lightly across my gee-string a second time as he held it stretched down, and I gasped again. Now he began rhythmically pumping my foreskin in short strokes, bumping my rim and then pulling down to stretch my gee-string and pull the front of my glans down.

"Your tip's getting darker," he said as he pumped my prick. "You're getting close." He was right. I felt more blood pour into my glans, and saw the rim flare fully with excitement. Now he touched his fingertip to the front dome next to my teardrop aperture.

"Your tip's hard, very hard," he observed. "You'll be on the edge in a few seconds. The bumping of my foreskin against the swollen rim fueled my fire, as did the stretching of my gee-string, and I felt a tickle being in my corona. It built in intensity, gradually spreading over the front of my glans, and I felt myself withdrawing from the world outside my body as all of my attention because focused on my prick. My eyes closed.

Bill pulled down harder, once, twice, and then he ran my foreskin all the way up my helmet to caress the entire surface. The tickle in my glans became a hot tingle, which a moment later exploded as my eyes closed. A jolt of hot sensation shot down my shaft to the root, where a spasm released my first gush as Bill jerked my foreskin down again. It shot up my prick like burning lava, erupting from the end. I cried out in pure joy and then Bill's strong fingers pulled my foreskin down harder and triggered the second contraction deep inside me. By now, I was aware only of the heavy pounding of the orgasm that released my jets. Another torrent of sperm seared its way up my urethra and slammed through the lips of my orifice to freedom.

I felt Bill pressing a finger into the underside of my shaft near the base as my third jet shot upward. He'd pinched my tube shut, trapping the juice, and then another hard contraction gripped the root of my prick. Another torrent poured into my urethra, slamming into the first one just as Bill removed his finger. Two heavy loads gushed up my tube and poured from the front of my helmet as I grunted and moaned in blissful agony.

Now Bill held my prick steady, not pumping my foreskin but just keeping it tightly back behind the head, as lesser spasms gripped me and the rest of my load poured from my prick in gushes that quickly became dribbles. My tip had become super-sensitive, and Bill knew it was important not to apply any friction. I felt his fingertip pressing into my urethra behind my scrotum, milking it to expel the last drops. Now he milked the underside of my shaft, drawing forth the last drops.

I was very still, dazed by the shock waves of the biological storm that had wracked my body. My prick began to soften, and Bill carefully and gently slipped my foreskin forward to envelop the shrinking helmet.

I began to revive after a minute, and when I opened my eyes I saw Bill smiling at me. As he leaned forward to kiss me on the lips I realized that my fingers were still wrapped around his hard prick.

"I was watching every shot," he said. "I saw the juice shooting from your big purple helmet and it was beautiful. I'm glad you've got that skin but I pull it down out of the way so I can watch your big tip while you're shooting." As he spoke I began working my fist up and down his prick, because I knew he needed release from the tension with the pure joy of orgasm. He was not only hard, but primed and ready to go from the excitement of having made me come. Bill now reclined to lie flat, as my fingers worked on his circumcised prick.

"I'll stroke you now, Bill," I reassured him. "I'll make you come hard, like you did me." My fingers felt every contour of his shapely prick, riding over the flaring rim and then sliding down the front of his glans to close over the front dome. I twisted my fist as I stroked down his helmet and rubbed the palm of my other hand over the front dome to double his stimulation.

Now my fingers were in the groove behind his flaring corona, stimulating the tender tissue between the thick brown scar and his corona. I twisted my fist as I brought it up again, lightly compressing his rim as I worked its many nerve endings. I knew exactly what he was feeling as I stimulated his engorged glans, and knew exactly what he'd be doing within seconds, because he was so worked up from handling my throbbing prick during its orgasm that he'd be unable to hold back for long.

"Stay relaxed," I coached him, knowing that his body was responding automatically now, tensing for the final spring into ecstasy, as I stroked his hot hard prick. Clear fluid was now seeping from his slit, mixing with the Astroglide and ensuring that I wouldn't give him friction burns as I stroked him. I worked my encircling fingers around his glans again, applying the irresistible sideways strokes that would trigger his storm within a few seconds.

Bill moaned, and his eyes closed as the overwhelming sensations captivated him, forcing all his attention on his prick. I saw his glans darken as it hardened under my encircling fingers. I grasped his shaft below the head with my other hand and gave his glans another twist, producing a "snake-bite" effect that triggered his orgasm.

"AAAAAHHHHH!" Bill howled loudly as I felt his prick throb in both my hands. His helmet was hard and dark purple, contrasting sharply with the creamy white jet that erupted from his gaping slit. His hips bucked as he howled again, sending another hot jet into the air as his prick throbbed joyfully between my fingers.

He howled again, thrusting his prick upward into my clasping fingers as his third eruption shot from his slit, filling the air with its characteristic chlorine odor. I kept twisting my fingers around his glans to intensify his sensations, and he rewarded me with another torrent of hot cream that poured over my encircling fingers. I massaged the sperm into his helmet, bringing forth another stream that was not as powerful as the previous ones.

Bill moaned softly as his orgasm petered out, draining him, and he began to relax as the aftershock overtook his body. I carefully milked his urethra, starting behind his tight scrotum and continuing along the underside of his prick, watching the creamy drops seeping from his slit. It was a beautiful sight, especially as I knew I had been responsible for giving him such an intense orgasm.

His prick softened, and I wiped it carefully with tissues, also sopping up the drops that had fallen onto his abdomen and into his pubic hair. He had no foreskin to bring up over his glans, so I let his prick drop to his abdomen and curled up beside him. Sleep quickly overtook us and we sank into oblivion.

I was first to awake in the morning and I watched as he rolled over and his eyes opened. I thought he looked very blissful, although still sleepy. We were both hard from full bladders.

"I got drained last night, but I'm horny again this morning," he said softly.

"Well, that's just a piss hard-on," I riposted, and he smiled.

"That's what you always say. I could shoot again and I'm sure you could too."

"Last night we were really horny," I said. "We didn't want to take the time for anything elaborate. Want me to dock you this morning?" I knew that docking was Bill's favorite, as he hugely enjoyed the feel of my warm foreskin shrouding his helmet. Without further ado we rolled to face each other, pricks extending between us until the bald head of his penis touched the pucker at the end of my foreskin. Bill was well practiced, and his dexterous fingers stretched my foreskin's orifice to allow him to slide his blunt-nosed helmet inside.

I felt the bulk of his glans stretch my foreskin, teasing the nerve endings until they were taut over his helmet. When the nose of his glans touched mine it sent an electric thrill down my shaft. I always enjoyed the intimacy of docking, an act that had always seemed superbly natural to me. Bill felt the same way:

"I love going tip to tip with you like this," he said as my fingers closed around the end of my foreskin, tightly stretched around his corona. I pulled slightly to bring the edge down into the neck of his shaft, the deep groove behind the head, where I clamped it tightly around the scar ring.

"Now your prick is mine," I said playfully as I began twisting my foreskin over his engorged glans. I watched the blissful expression come over his face, inches from mine, as the sensations flowed into his nerve endings. He began thrusting slightly, the hard nose of his glans pressing into mine and compressing my nerve endings.

We'd done this many times, and each time it seemed to get better, with more acute sensations and more intense orgasms. Right now we had the pressure in our bladders feeding the tension in our bodies, and I felt it would not take long for us to release our sperm in a joyful explosion.

My glans was more sensitive than his, having remained moist and protected all my life, and this was why I was twisting my foreskin around his helmet. The only sensation I was getting was the intermittent pressure against the front dome of my helmet as he thrust, but I was giving him the delicious sideways friction he craved around his corona, all the way from the flaring top down to the twin lobes under his glans. With more sensation he'd be able to keep up with me, and we'd probably come together, the ultimate in delight when we were helmet to helmet inside my warm fleshy cocoon.

We were both very aroused, because our balls tightened against our bodies, and our breathing grew more rapid. Bill kept up his regular thrusting, driving us both steadily toward the moment of release.

"I can feel your rim getting harder through the foreskin," I observed. Although my foreskin is thick, the outline of his engorged corona was clearly visible and palpable through the fleshy covering.

"If we could see our tips they're be darker now," he replied in an excited whisper. I knew he was right, because that had been exactly what had happened the day before. Bill's reactions and mine were as alike as our anatomies. Our helmets engorged further as we approached orgasm, and lost their somewhat spongy feel.

Bill's breathing became more rapid, as did mine, as we approached the peak. We often enjoyed going slowly, but now, refreshed from a good night's sleep, and with full bladders, we were unable to resist the urgency of our excitement. Bill thrust harder against my hot hard helmet, compressing the front dome, as I increased the friction on his swollen corona.

"I'm getting that tickle," he said. "It's starting in my rim."

"I'm getting it too, but it's starting at the front," I replied. I knew his tickle would spread all over his glans, as mine would. As our excitement neared the peak, it would become more intense and turn into a hot tingle.

"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" I heard him say as his eyes closed. Mine closed a second later as we both withdrew from the outside world, mainly aware of the tension building in our bodies, especially in our pricks where they were connected. My breathing turned into grunting as my excitement rose parallel to his. My whole world was in my prick as I felt Bill's bulky helmet thrusting within my foreskin, and then my sensations peaked.

"Tingling^Å." I muttered as I felt my helmet swelling impossibly, almost exploding with the pressure of blood and the sensations stabbing into the nerve endings. A sharp jolt of sensation exploded in my glans and ran down my shaft as Bill cried out. I felt the hard throb of orgasm both in the root of my prick and the front of my helmet as Bill thrust hard against it. An instant later we were both sobbing in joyful agony as the hot juice spewed from our orifices to swirl around our helmets.

Our breathing was frantic and gasping as the magic moment exploded into our consciousness. Bill thrust in the frenzy of his orgasm as his helmet hammered against mine, shooting another hard jet that splashed against my front dome and blended with the juice pouring from my tip. I felt another hot spasm deep inside me as a third torrent of cream shot up my prick to mix with his jet, flooding my foreskin and bathing our helmets with sperm. Our bodies strained against each other as we shared the pure joy of mutual release.

Our sensations began to fade as we drained ourselves, but the creamy liquid distending my foreskin was leaking out around the edge, wetting Bill's shaft and dripping onto the sheet. Our throbs were weaker now, although still very pleasurable. We clung together, enjoying the last moments of our orgasms, and then we were still, sinking into the daze that followed.

We both had to pee, an urge that followed only a couple of minutes after we'd come, and we got up to go into the bathroom. Again, we hit the shower, and Bill played with my foreskin, pinching the end and releasing it as our streams flowed down the drain.

Bill and I had many such encounters whenever we could be alone together. Several times our wives flew to Las Vegas to gamble and see a couple of shows, leaving us free for a couple of days. We made good use of this time, and during the last weekend we had together before the baby was born, Bill told me what had been on his mind:

"We're pretty sure it's a boy, and I'm dead-set against having him clipped. I think I've got my wife convinced that it's not a good idea, because she knows how I feel about having been cut. She knows I hate it, and I told her that if our boy got cut, he'd grow up feeling the same way."

"Just make sure not to sign any consent form," I advised. "Tell her to be careful too."

"Oh, I will," he responded.

Bill's wife had the baby the following week, and a few days after that Bill was able to speak with me privately in my workshop while our wives were out shopping. His face was flushed and I knew he was upset:

"You know what happened Jack? When I saw Eileen and the baby in the hospital after he'd been born, the kid looked like he'd been crying. I didn't know why. Also I wanted to take a look at his penis. I'd always wondered if I'd had a long skin like yours, but since it was cut off before I could remember, I never knew. I wanted to see if little Jerry was so lucky." He sighed, and then continued:

"I asked her to pull down his diaper so I could see his equipment. She didn't want to. It was like she was hiding something. Well, that's exactly what it was. She was hiding something she didn`t want me to know. I took the boy from her and undid his diaper, and instead of a long skin on his penis there was a bloody bandage around the end. She told me then that the doctor had circumcised him right after he'd been born, just a couple of hours before." Bill was obviously very angry about this, and I got a view of his frustration as he continued the story:

"My little boy was barely a couple of hours old and he'd already been clipped. I was mad. I went looking for the doctor, and he told me my wife had signed the consent form. When I told him I hadn't wanted my boy clipped he said I should have told him that ahead of time. He said it's his policy never to circumcise a boy if one parent is against it, even if the other parent signs a consent slip. Now I knew my wife had lied to me all along, and that she'd planned to have him clipped no matter what."

"I went back to my wife and asked her why she'd done it. She said she thought the circumcised penis looked nicer, and that cutting that skin off made the head larger. She said she loved the way my cut head felt inside her, and she was sure that mine was so big because I'd been circumcised at birth. I didn't know what to say, so I got out of there."

"That's a kick in the teeth," I said, commiserating with Bill. "I'm sure you never expected anything like that."

"No, I didn't expect it. I've been married to her for five years, and I loved and trusted her. Then she did this."

"I know you feel betrayed," I said. "What are you going to do now?" I saw tears come to Bill's eyes, and I hugged him to me as he cried.

"I don't know, I just don't know," he sobbed. I didn't know what to say just then, and I limited myself to patting him on the back as I reflected on the seriousness of his situation. His wife had known of his dismay at having had his foreskin taken without his consent as a baby, and his wish that his son not go through this ordeal, yet she'd purposely gone against his wish after promising to follow it.

"I know I can never trust her again," Bill said as he leaned against me.

"I understand that, but what are you going to do?" I asked him. "Are you going to stay with her, or ask for a divorce?" Anything was possible at this point, given the turmoil raging inside Bill's head.

"I really can't, you know," was his reply. "If I divorced her, little Jerry would grow up without a father, and this would hit him harder than it would me or her. Hell, he's already been hit hard. You know the nurse later told me that the doctor circumcised him without any anesthetic? He used a Gomco something or other that clamps the skin so the doctor can cut it off with a scalpel. It takes about 15 minutes to do, and he was crying all the time."

"That sucks," was my comment.

"It's bad enough he's cut like me, but I have to stand by him as he grows up. I have to be there for him, even though it means staying with her. That's going to be a very hard thing to do." I knew what he meant. Living day after day, year after year, with a wife he despised wouldn't be easy, especially as he'd have to hide his real feelings for family harmony. As I realized this I shuddered, and tears came to my eyes as I realized what a noble sacrifice Bill was going to make.

"I'll help you any way I can," I whispered to him. "At that point I didn't know exactly what I might be able to do for him, apart from emotional support, but I knew I'd be thinking hard about this during the weeks to come.

"Just don't do anything hasty or dangerous, Bill," I advised. "No matter how much you resent her for this, don't do anything that can get you arrested. I said I wanted to help you, but you know I do corporate law, not criminal defense."

My wife had no idea of the situation, as Bill's wife had not confided in her although they were friends. Perhaps Eileen had not wanted to tell her how she had betrayed her husband. During the following weeks everything seemed normal at their household, at least as normal as an outsider could see. After a couple of months Bill and I had the opportunity to get away for a weekend together.

"I'm glad to be here alone with you," he said, fingering the nipple of my foreskin as we lay on the hotel bed. "I feel very comfortable with you, something I can't say about my wife."

"You still have sex, don't you?" We were intimate enough that I had no hesitation about asking so directly.

"We still do, and she still comes when I do her the way she likes, working the head in and out. I go through the motions, and I come too, but it's not like before. I don't know if she suspects I really don't care for her anymore, the bitch." The word had slipped out, revealing the depth of his feeling.

"How's the boy doing?" I asked.

"He seems to be growing fine," Bill replied. "His circumcision healed, and it looks like he wasn't cut as tightly as me. The tip's still raw and cherry red, though." I squeezed the head of his penis between thumb and index finger, and felt the responsive throb that came up through his shaft. It began to swell in my hand. Now we forgot about worldly cares as we became more engrossed with each other.

Bill hugged me and kissed me on the lips, and I kissed his ears, forehead, cheeks, and neck as my passion rose. The unspoken truth between us was that we considered each other more trustworthy and reliable than our wives. We were more intimate and had much better rapport with each other than with our spouses.

Our pricks were fully hard now, and ready for the delicious climb to the point of release. We were pressed against each other, our pricks between our abdomens, held flat against each other.

"I'd like to do Princeton," Bill said. "I'll go between your legs and stroke you in front."

"Okay, I'd like that," I agreed. Bill lubricated the inside of a magnum size condom with Astroglide and rolled it over his prick. The magnum size allowed free movement inside the latex, which was necessary as he'd be thrusting between my thighs. I lay on my left side, facing away from him, and lifted my right thigh. He moved forward and I felt his prick caressing my perineum. Now I lowered my thigh and clasped his prick firmly between them. He began thrusting slowly inside the condom, and I felt his prick sliding against me as he reached over my body to grasp my hard penis. I felt a light tickle deep in the root of my prick that told me that a drop of lube had begun crawling up my urethra.

"Let's go nice and slow," he suggested. "We've got all evening."

"I'd love that, Bill," I agreed. "I like to feel your prick between my thighs. I can feel the ridge of your helmet rubbing against my skin inside the rubber. I can feel every time your tip touches my balls." I felt Bill's fingers release my prick for a moment as he ran them over my scrotum.

"Your balls feel tighter than before," he observed. "I think mine are tightening up too." He was still thrusting slowly at a measured pace, so that the experience would last until we were both ready to end it in explosive release. He handled my penis with a very light touch, barely jiggling the foreskin over my helmet, which remained fully covered as he stroked. He worked one finger inside my long fleshy sleeve, and I felt it sliding around my pee-hole, lubricated by my juice. Bill removed his finger and tasted it.

"I love the salty taste of your lube," he said. Then he returned his hand to my prick.

"I love it when we do this," I murmured. "I love your fingers around my prick, you between my thighs. Let me know when you want to come." We continued for several minutes longer, relishing the sensations of our intimacy. I felt very close to him at that moment.

Bill had maintained a steady rhythm on my prick and with his thrusting, but now I felt him going somewhat faster. I was ready for release as well, and glad that our practiced technique would allow us to enjoy the magic moment together. After a minute he said:

"I can feel the head getting harder through your skin." I also felt the increased congestion as my glans had swollen even more. I knew that any second I'd start to feel the delicious ache in my helmet that told me it needed relief.

"Let's go for it, Bill," I urged. He responded by thrusting harder, and I felt his swollen tip bumping harder against the back of my very tight scrotum. Our breathing had picked up, shallower and more rapid, as our excitement mounted. His fingers had tightened on my prick as he slid my foreskin expertly in long strokes that fueled my fire.

We were both sweating and the front of his warm body slid against the back of mine as he probed between my thighs with his hot hard prick. We were both grunting now, caught up in the last moments before the storm, and I knew release was only seconds away. His fingers flew over my foreskin, producing the delicious pressure and friction that was driving me inexorably toward the brink. The ache in my glans had become a tickle, and now had turned into a hot tingle that would trigger my orgasm. My eyes closed.

"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" I grunted as I felt the heavy pounding of orgasm begin deep inside me. A rush of hot lava roared up my urethra and spurted onto the bed, releasing the characteristic odor of chlorine. I reached down between my thighs and pressed two fingers into the cleft under his helmet as it slid against my perineum to trigger his orgasm. I felt the answering throb in his glans as the sensations took hold and launched his climax. Bill howled as his prick thrust hard, and I felt the hard pulse in his urethra as he shot into the condom.

Another spasm convulsed my crotch, sending a second torrent of cream up my prick. Bill had twisted and pinched my long foreskin shut, and I felt the hot liquid swirling around my helmet as his prick throbbed again between my thighs.

Our bodies strained against each other as we shared the excitement, sharing the frenzy of our orgasms. A third torrent of hot juice burned its way up my tube, slamming through the lips of my aperture freely because Bill had just yanked my foreskin all the way back. Bill's prick throbbed and released another jet.

Bill clung to me feverishly as we drained ourselves, and our gushes declined into dribbles. Bill's fingers had stopped stroking my foreskin and now just held it back to allow my cream to drain unobstructed. We lay very still as our pricks softened, enchanted by the delicious feeling of bliss that accompanied the daze that follows climax. Our hot bodies cooled as our breathing returned to normal.

Minutes later we disengaged. Bill milked my urethra, starting behind my balls and working all the way up to the helmet, forcing out the residue. I pulled on the wet condom, which easily slipped off his now limp penis, and pressed a finger into his urethra to drain him thoroughly. We'd timed our orgasms perfectly, and now we tenderly cleaned up for each other. I got a washrag dampened in warm water from the bathroom and carefully wiped his prick. Bill used tissues to dab the last drops from my slit, as my foreskin was still locked behind my flaring rim. Now he pulled my foreskin forward carefully to cover the head, stretching it out so that the long nipple was beyond the glans, and we turned to lie together, arms wrapped around each other.

His warm breath on my cheek and the way he pressed his warm body against mine told me how close he felt. I shared his feelings and I clasped him to me as I kissed his neck. We both loved this intimacy and relished the tender moments after sex with each other.

Many months passed, as Bill struggled to cope with his changed life situation. I need not have worried, because he avoided conflicts with his wife, and she never suspected how much he'd grown to hate her. She didn't have a clue that their son was the only reason he was still with her.

Two years later my wife told me she was pregnant. Ultrasound told us that the baby was male, and we both looked forward to his birth. When I informed Bill of this, he looked at me apprehensively, although he was tactful enough not to voice the thought at the back of his mind. Instead, I voiced it for him:

"Yeah, I know. I don't want the boy circumcised, and my wife agrees because she loves the way my uncut prick feels inside her, but who really knows? I trust my wife, but so did you until that day."

"So what are you going to do?" he asked, giving me a penetrating stare that made it clear this wasn't just idle curiosity.

"Well, you know I'm an attorney," I began. "Our OB/GYN knows this too. A couple of weeks before the birth, I'm going to send him a registered letter, on my letterhead, telling him that under no circumstances is he to circumcise our baby. I'll be sending a similar letter to the hospital administrator and asking him to ensure that there aren't any mistakes made, such as taking the wrong baby in for circumcision. I think that they'll get the message that if the boy doesn't leave the hospital with all his parts, there's going to be a lot of shit coming down. I'm a corporate lawyer, not a trial lawyer, but they don't know that."

"I think you're doing the right thing," he replied. "If I'd only spoken to the doctor before it happened. You know he told me he didn`t circumcise a baby if one parent objected."

"Well, my objection will be on record. The doctor will know he'll have absolutely no way to weasel out if he cuts the boy," I said.

A week before the birth I sent the letters, and the OB/GYN mentioned the letter to my wife. I told Bill about it the next day:

"She was surprised that I'd sent our doctor the letter, and wanted to know why. I told her that I'd heard about mistakes happening, or sometimes doctors performing circumcision without the consent of parents, and that I was just covering all the bases, as a good lawyer should. She accepted my explanation, and didn't seem perturbed as she might have if she were secretly planning to go against me."

"I'm glad you're handling it this way," he said. "Better safe than sorry."

"That's what I told myself. I know I trust my wife. I'm sure she wouldn't lie to me. Still, it's better to be sure, after what happened to you. I'd be a real idiot if I let something like that happen after what you and your boy went through."

I was at the hospital during the birth and stayed with my wife and new son for the rest of the day. Later I told Bill about it:

"It went pretty well, an easy delivery. I saw them both right after little Mikey was born, even before they put the first diaper on him."

"Is he like you?" Bill asked, meaning did he have my long foreskin?

"Yes he is, Bill. He's equipped like me, and I intend to keep him that way."

"Mikey might make a good playmate for my son Jerry when they grow up," was Bill's reply

"I think we'd both like that," I said.

The end