Many years ago, when I still smoked, I met Les in a naturist sauna. Les appeared to be about 25, while I was about ten years older. We both wore glasses, but because this was a dry sauna, they did not steam up. We were the only two occupying the sauna, sitting opposite each other, and I had a good view of his equipment, as he had of mine. I noticed a red and inflamed spot on the ridge of his circumcised glans. I guess I stared a bit too long, because he said to me: "That's a burn. I got it a couple of days ago when I was sitting on the pot and dropped a cigarette between my legs. The burning end caught my ridge and the filter end leaned against the side of the bowl for a second before I could move." "I suppose it's still pretty sore," I offered, sympathetically. He nodded and added: "My prick won't be combat-ready for a few more days, I think. Hope nothing like this ever happens to you." I smiled at him. "It did. Last year, almost exactly the same thing happened when I dropped a cigarette butt between my legs." I remembered the occasion vividly, feeling the heat as the glowing tip slid down the skin of my prick and into the water. I held up my cock to show Les. A slight reddening still showed on my foreskin, right over the ridge. The burn had not been as severe as the one on his cock, because there had been no sharp rim exposed to catch the end of the cigarette and the contact had been momentary. "Lucky you. You only got a burn on the outer skin. Wish I had a hood like yours, but I got cut before I had anything to say about it. Bet your tip's really sensitive, isn't it?" He looked enviously at my smoothly skinned cock with its funnel shaped hood that protruded an inch beyond the end of the glans to form a thick nipple. "Yeah, it really is, just the way I like it." With both hands, I steadied my prick and pulled the long hood all the way back, forming a thick collar behind the rim. Flaccid, the head of my cock was pinkish purple, but the back face of the rim was a deep purple, hinting at the many nerve endings that studded it. By contrast, his tip was a uniform grayish pink, typical of the dry unprotected cock-head with the skin removed. "Hey, I like the color of your tip." He said. He reached out and ran a finger across my flaring rim, making me quiver in delight as my prick jerked in reflex. "Looks really delicate and sensitive. Maybe we can get together in a few days after mine heals so that I can get a closer look." I enjoyed the admiration, and quickly agreed that we'd meet next weekend. The following Saturday, we met at the sauna and relaxed in the dry heat, watching our balls sag and our cocks enlarge from the high temperature. After half an hour, we proceeded to the shower and rinsed the sweat from our bodies. As Les lived closer than I did, he suggested that we go to his place, a neat looking condo with beautifully landscaped grounds. Inside his place we went to the bedroom to strip to the buff, and I noticed that his eyes never left my crotch as we disrobed. I noted that he was about my height, six feet, and his slender build was similar to mine. His hair was lighter than mine, a sort of dirty blond, both on his head and around his crotch. "Man, I really love foreskins," he commented. "There aren't that many around, but when I see one, I go for it." He stepped up to me and grasped my long foreskin nipple between two fingers, applying a rolling motion that suggested he was very familiar with how to handle foreskins. My cock-head, already large and bulging under its hood, began to swell. I squeezed his naked glans rhythmically, knowing that each squeeze would send a thrill down his cock-shaft and make the root reply with a pleasurable spasm. Les sat on the edge of the bed, and I sat next to him, neither of us breaking contact with each other's cocks. I saw that his cock-rim was only slightly reddened where he had burned himself the previous week, and was swelling in response to my touch. My cock was now hard, and Les had begun easing back to long hood. With two fingers, he pulled back gently to bare my come-hole, then pushed the skin forward again to close over the end. His shaft was hard in my hand, and I studied his cock-head as I jiggled the loose skin up and down to bump his rim. I saw that he had a large helmet shaped glans, very much like mine, and that his orifice was distended to an oval, unlike mine. Les pulled my skin back farther, baring the wet, slippery head, until the tight ring of my hood snapped back into the deep groove behind my ridge. He ran a finger over my glistening glans, circling the corona, and exclaimed: "Beautiful ridge. Your big tip feels nice and warm. I like your come-hole, too." My fully erect cock-head had darkened, and the hole at the end distended to a definite teardrop shape. As he'd skinned my prick back, I'd felt a tickle in my cock-root and now a drop of lubricant filled my orifice. Les placed his forefinger over the drop and began spreading the viscous fluid around the hole, working in small circles. The feeling was very erotic, and I sighed happily. "I just love foreskin," he continued, giving my prick long strokes that drew the thick hood forward beyond the end, then fully back to behind the flaring rim. The tight ring of skin snapped into the deep groove behind the head. Les struggled to bring it forward again, but it was lodged securely behind my high, flaring ridge. He squeezed my cock-head to drive out the blood, then drew the long foreskin forward over my shrunken cock-head. "Wait until I lube a little," I said. "That'll make it easier to slide the skin over the rim." Les skinned me back part-way, and we saw the large drop of clear fluid that oozed from my hole and flowed down under the protective hood. Now he pulled my foreskin all the way back, then it slid forward easily over the lubricated ridge. I reached for a bottle of non-drying lubricant he'd placed on the bedside table and lubricated his hot, swollen cock. Now I gave his love tool several long, languid strokes from base to tip, wanting to keep him aroused but not push him over the edge. "When did you last come?" I asked. "Two days ago," he replied. "Good. That way, we're not going to need relief right away and we can make it last. My last orgasm was three days ago, and I can hold out an hour or more." I massaged his prick slowly and lovingly as I spoke, certain that the slow sensations were registering in his nervous system and that when he eventually came, his orgasm would be hot, intense, and prolonged. Now he dropped his head, inhaling the aroma of my hot foreskin. "Your cock really smells nice," he said as he leaned over and took a deep breath, savoring the heady masculine odor. His fist swept my foreskin forward and his tongue swiped at the thick pucker that had formed in front of my glans. I twisted my fist around his shaft, carefully avoiding the scar and the trigger ridge to avoid bringing his climax too soon. The oval in the front of his bell-shaped tip had filled with clear fluid, and as I watched his cock pulsed gently and another drop of lube pushed its way out and began rolling down the groove on the bottom of the head. "Was your cock still sore when you came two days ago?" I asked. "A little, but I used a vibrator under the head." I knew what he meant, as a vibrator used there would hit the sensitive twin lobes and the tender strip of skin underneath, bringing orgasm very quickly. I'd sometimes done that, for variety. Now I ran one finger on the underside of his cock-head, hitting the same sensitive spots, probing between the twin lobes of the glans. Les had pulled my hood forward, stretching it out beyond the end of my helmet, his two fingers holding the sensitive tissue and rolling it gently. It was clear he knew what he was doing, because this stimulation would keep me aroused, but wouldn't force the orgasm from my body. We continued working each other's pricks this way, knowing that no matter how careful we were, we'd eventually unload our juices in thick and sensual gushes. I wondered if he was a shooter or dribbler. My cock rarely spits its jets, but I had seen others joyfully blast thick ropes of semen in long trajectories when they came. We'd been at it an hour when I felt Les's shaft harden further in my fist, and his tip darkened a couple of shades. My fingers touched his ridge, which had lost its spongy feel and swollen in the final stage. "Looks like you're close," I commented. "Ready?" He said nothing, but lay on his side and placed a towel in front of him to catch his discharge. I gave his bell-shaped tip a hard twist to trigger his storm. He'd let go of my cock and was focusing entirely on his sensations as his cock throbbed in my fist. Les shuddered as the whirlwind of orgasm swept through his body, bringing relief and satisfaction. He moaned loudly as the ropy white jets erupted from his naked tip, falling onto the towel in front of him. The first jets flew almost a foot, and the rest declined, finally dribbling out of his distended orifice as his throbs slowed. Creamy white pools of cream were soaking into the thick terrycloth as I milked the last drops from his dick. "Now it's your turn," he said as he spread a towel on my stomach and pushed me down flat. He took my hard cock in his fist and began a back and forth motion that pounded my swollen rim and its millions of nerve endings. As my foreskin slipped over the ridge, a heavy tingling began in my rim and spread over the entire head before exploding in a hot thrill that went down my shaft to the root. I had no time to think before my cock was throbbing in orgasm, and I cried out in pure joy as the agonizing sensations dimmed my consciousness and made me helpless in his hands. I saw a heavy gush of white cream pour from my swollen purple tip before my eyes closed and I was lost in mindless sensation. "Man, you're really coming, and it's all over the place," he said as he continued to stroke my cock. His voice came from a distance as my body shuddered in ecstasy and my cock throbbed in his encircling fingers. It felt as if my entire being was pouring from my hot cock, leaving me empty and drained as gush after gush erupted from my distended orifice. "I just love that foreskin action," he murmured as his fist continued to stroke my hood over the core of my cock. Each stream tickled my tube as it rushed up and out, giving me a hot thrill that tantalized me. More ribbons of cream poured from my tip, running down the head to be caught up in the long strokes of my hood as he continued to pound my prick. I felt my tip becoming very slippery as the spasms began to fade, and Les slowed his strokes and tightened his fist to pull every drop from my cock. I felt his finger press into the tube underneath, milking the last ooze from my prick. I lay prostrate, arms and legs stretched out, almost lifeless as I began to recover from the heavy surge of sensations that had wracked my body. Les had released my prick, which now lay on my stomach in a thick pool of jizm, slowly softening as my arousal died. "That was beautiful," he said. "I really enjoyed watching you come, and feeling your cock throbbing in my hand." I nodded listlessly as he continued: "Next time, I want to feel you come in my mouth. I want to push my tongue under your foreskin and feel your hot tip throb when you cum, taste your juice on my tongue." I looked forward to that, because in those days "safe sex" was an unknown phrase, and I truly enjoyed a blow job from someone who appreciated intact cocks.
The End