Crotch-watching By Jackinnm@yahoo.com
In the spring of 1965 I was 27, and had never heard the word "docking." However, that was the year of my first such experience, which began while I was engaging in one of my favorite pastimes, crotch-watching, and trying not to be noticed peering.
I was in the company cafeteria, reading a book while eating lunch, occasionally raising my eyes to look at a crotch walking by me. On one of these occasions I noticed a blond guy about my age at the next table staring at my crotch. I'd been sitting with my legs slightly apart, and as tight pants were the style then, the outline of my prick was clear on the inside of my left thigh. The shape of my high-ridged cock-head was very visible, and I noticed that the blond was also sitting with his legs apart to give me a good view of the inside of his thigh. His cylindrical bulge was also tipped with the familiar glans and corona outline, and this excited my curiosity. Some think that if the outline of the head is visible through clothing, the cock must be circumcised. That isn't necessarily true, because my large, helmet-shaped cock-head has a high ridge that shows clearly through my thick foreskin, as well as my boxer shorts and the material of my pants. The outline running down the leg also suggests that its owner is wearing boxer shorts, or even no shorts at all. I wondered what the blond was wearing, and if he were circumcised or otherwise. I didn't wonder for long, because suddenly he raised his eyes to mine, got up from his chair, and headed in the direction of the men's room. It didn't take me long to decide to follow, partly because I had to pee too. Inside, he headed for a urinal and I took the one next to him. This facility had partitions only between toilet stalls, and there was no obstruction to our sneaking looks at each other's equipment. When I looked down at him out of the corner of my eye, I saw a large helmet-shaped cock-head, which was no surprise. Better yet, there was a thick, wrinkled roll of skin behind the ridge, held back by his clasping fingers as he poured his stream into the bowl. I unzipped and half-skinned back my cock-head, because that was all I needed to avoid splatter. I saw him look down at my prick and hoped he liked what he saw. When we'd finished we headed over to the sinks to wash our hands, not because we'd wet our hands peeing but because it gave us a chance to get acquainted and was also the social convention. Personally, I take a shower every day, and am sure that my cock is cleaner than many people's mouths, judging from the number of individuals I've encountered who have bad breath. "My name's Gene," my companion said in a soft Southern accent. "I work in accounting." "I'm Jack," I replied. "I'm in engineering." "Hot day today, isn't it?" he said, continuing the small talk. "Yes, it is. I think a cold beer would be great after work. Want to come over to my place for one? I live only a mile from here." I was almost certain he'd accept my invitation, and it tuned out he did. Shortly after five, he followed me home and pulled his car into the parking slot next to mine at my apartment complex, and we went inside. I pulled a couple of bottles of beer from the refrigerator, and we drank them with gusto. Gene told me he'd been born in Arkansas, and was a year younger than I. "I'm all hot and sweaty," I said. " Feel like a shower? You're welcome to use my shower if you'd like." Gene nodded and followed me into my bedroom, where we stripped quickly. My curiosity about his underwear was quickly satisfied. I saw he wore plain vanilla boxer shorts, much like mine. Stripping down gave us our first unobstructed look at each other. Gene was a couple of inches shorter than my six feet, with a more athletic build, and an oval face that contrasted with my square-jawed countenance. He was a natural blond, as I saw from his pubic bush, while Gene saw that I had dark brown hair. He looked at my prick, and saw its average size, somewhat thin shaft with a big bulge near the front where the head showed through, and a puckered nipple beyond the glans. Gene's cock seemed to be about the same size, but had more skin than mine beyond the head, forming a very pendulous nozzle. I stepped into the shower stall, saying; "You're welcome to share with me," and Gene followed me immediately. We soaked under the hot water for a minute, until I handed him the soap. He ran the bar down his body, front and back, then asked me; Want me to do your back?" I told him "okay" and turned around. I felt both his hands on my back, massaging as he worked the lather into my skin. His arms came around my body and he ran the bar of soap through my pubic hair, working up lather. I felt his body snuggled up against mine as he pulled me around to face the shower stream that rinsed off the soap. He replaced the soap on the shelf, then grasped my prick and pulled my hood all the way back. "Gotta rinse the head off too," he explained, and I was glad he wasn't one of those guys who had been brainwashed into thinking you have to scrub under your foreskin with soap. It just doesn't get that dirty, and a warm water rinse is always enough unless you're a brake shop mechanic who always works nude. I felt Gene's finger probe behind my rim, rubbing the mucus from the deep groove, then he pulled my hood forward to its original position. We switched positions, and after I soaped his back, I turned him to face me, because I wanted to see what I was doing. I ran the soap through his pubic hair, then stepped aside to let the water rinse off the suds. Then I took his shaft in my left hand, and started peeling back his foreskin with my right. I had to do it in several stages to get the entire long and thick hood behind his rim, then I ran my fingertip between ridge and groove to clean out the mucus. I pulled back harder on his foreskin to get the wrinkles out, and made sure all of his prick-skin was rinsed before bringing the hood back forward. "That's a lot of skin you've got there," I remarked. "That must give you a good long stroke when you jack it." "It does," he replied. "...but yours isn't short either. I know you must get a good stroke too." I recited a little ditty I'd heard years before: "My foreskin's long And nice and tight. It looks so good And feels so right." "I know I've got foreskin to spare, but you've got room for two cock-heads under that one," I added. That was the moment we both got the same idea. "Want to try fitting yours under my skin when we get out of here?" he asked. "I'd love it," I replied. We dried ourselves and trooped back into the bedroom, cocks half-hard in anticipation. "You cum a lot?" I asked. "Oh, yeah, I shoot a big load, 'specially when I haven't cum in a week, like now," he replied. "Then I'd better spread this towel under us," I said. Gene reached for my cock. "This one's got a big head on it," he remarked, squeezing my tip through the covering skin. "It's as big as mine." My cock throbbed in his hand as my cock-root contracted in response to his squeezes. I grasped his prick's foreskin, and tugged on it gently as my prick continued swelling. "How far out does this stretch?" I asked. "Try it and see," he replied. Now I clasped it in my fist, and felt the core of his warm flesh swell between my encircling fingers, and soon it was as rigid as mine had become. I saw that my hard-on was almost seven inches, and his was maybe a quarter-inch shorter. Gene slowly pulled my hood back, revealing the big purple helmet with a drop of pre-cum filling its teardrop orifice. We switched to a "69" position to get a better look at each other's equipment. Now, with his cock full-hard, I pulled his foreskin out by its tip, and saw that, even with his fully swollen cock inside it, the hood stretched out another couple of inches beyond the tip of his glans. I knew he'd have room for me. With the core of Gene's cock hard, it was a lot easier stripping his hood, and I tugged the long skin slowly back to bring his big glans into view. His cock-head had a big blunt nose, like mine, but his slit was an oval, the lips parted by a clear viscous drop. I saw that his ridge was as high and flaring as mine, the back-face darker than the front. The delicious odor of his cock pleased me, and I inhaled deeply. "Hey, you've got the same little studs as me behind your ridge," Gene remarked. I saw what he meant, as we both had tiny purple studs, protruding nerve endings, on the back-faces of our ridges. "That's why our tips are so sensitive," I suggested. Gene's long foreskin formed a thick wrinkled ring behind his ridge, and I pulled back more to see how far back it would go. That stretched his gee-string under the head, and I saw his glans dip down in the direction of his balls. I let go, and the head came back up as I gently tickled the hairs on his balls with my fingertips. His cock bobbed up and down as I did this, and I knew I was making his cock-root contract. Gene tickled my ball-hairs, and we saw my bare-headed cock, foreskin retracted as Gene had left it, also bob as my cock-root convulsed. I felt Gene's soft warm lips kiss my naked tip, gently on the rounded dome in front. Then his lips moved to engulf my glans down to the rim. I kissed his warm purple tip, feeling its glassy smooth surface against my lips. I saw a drop of clear fluid part the lips of Gene's cum-hole, and I delicately lapped it up with my tongue, savoring the salty taste and thick viscous body of his pre-cum. I felt Gene's tongue work down behind my rim, and into the groove behind it. "Hey, now that your tip's naked, let me take care of that." We switched around and Gene brought his hard cock tip to tip with mine. The big purple heads touched, and I felt the exciting warmth of his flesh against mine. Gene slowly slid his hood forward, covering his tip, then grasped the opening between his fingers, stretching it wide as he engulfed my glans with it. The blunt nose of my sensitive tip met his inside the fleshy tunnel, and the contact made both of our cocks throb with excitement. Gene began slowly sliding his hood back and forth over both swollen cock-heads, and I felt our arousal build as I looked into his blue eyes. There was no need to speak, because we both knew what was about to happen, and how we would react. Both our turgid tips took in the sensations, feeling the sensual smooth contours of the other, our lubricated contact bringing us closer to the peak. My cock-head felt warm, and a slight tickle began in the rim as Gene continued to move his skin back and forth, caressing our sensitive nerve endings. It felt like an urge to pee, which I knew was the precursor of my climax, and knew that we'd be crossing the threshold soon. Gene's cock-head, which had felt somewhat spongy, now hardened against mine, and I knew this was his final swelling. His voice broke into my consciousness: "Your tip's swelling, getting' harder. You're real close." I realized that my excitement was as apparent to him as his had been to me. "Any moment," I replied, reaching out to tickle his balls again. I wanted him to have the utmost in sensation I could provide, because his warm, clasping fingers were bringing me inexorably closer to the brink. I felt a large drop of fluid slowly crawl up my tube towards my bulging head. Gene kept moving his long skin over our cock-heads, and I felt the tickle in my glans change to a hot tingle. I took a deep breath, then felt myself going into the free-fall of orgasm as my cock-head exploded in sensation. My eyes closed. I heard Gene cry out as his fist tightened on our cocks, and the first hot rush of jism gushed up my tube. My cock throbbed as the jet erupted from my tip, bathing Gene's turgid glans, and I felt his tip throb against mine as the hot rush of cum from his washed over mine. Our cum streams mixed inside Gene's hood, and our cocks pumped another load. We were both sobbing in ecstasy as our swollen cock-heads disgorged jet after jet against each other, the hot fluid adding to our sensations. It felt as if all my insides were pumping out through my prick, leaving me drained and empty. My cock-head became so sensitive that I thought I couldn't take any more, but Gene's insistent fist stroked his fleshy foreskin o ver both our heads again and again, drawing more juice from our bodies. Our tortured tips spurted their last drops, and we watched the white cream seep from under Gene's long hood onto the towel. "Wow, that was a lot," I breathed as Gene's fleshy covering drew back from my tip, which I saw was coated with white. A large dollop of cum, maybe two tablespoons, dripped onto the towel. I grabbed a few tissues from the box on the table and wiped the excess juice from my purple glans. Gene's skin had stopped pulling back, and still covered his tip. I grasped it and drew it back behind his rim, tugging hard to keep it in place now that his cock was softening. I wiped the cum from his cock-head, then slid his ample hood forward again. Our cocks, damp but still warm, shrank back to normal as we lay beside each other, savoring the beautiful after-glow and enjoying each other's closeness. Gene clasped my hand, and I placed my other hand on his crotch, cupping his beautiful cock and ample balls, and we fell asleep that way.
The End