Exploring, Part 13 By Jackinnm@yahoo.com
Chris and I were sitting in his living room the next evening, and I pointed out to him a wire service article in the newspaper:
"Doctor George's wife had just waved goodbye to him when she saw his head pitch forward as a cloud of pink mist exploded from it."
Chris looked at me and said:
"That's pretty graphic. That sure was a powerful weapon."
"Yes it was," I replied. "The bullet was probably a hollow point, and it vaporized his brain when it hit. He must have been dead before he hit the ground."
He took the paper from me, reading one of the following paragraphs:
"Dr. George was head of obstetrics and gynecology at an area hospital. Preliminary investigation did not reveal any known enemies and his wife said that he had not mentioned any threats against his life."
"That sounds about right," I said. "I don't know if any cop's going to make the connection between his shooting and circumcisions he's performed."
"I sure hope not," Chris said.
"The article didn't mention any lawsuits against him by a patient or patients."
"Let's hope nothing turns up," Chris added. "I'm not bloodthirsty, but I'm not anxious that the guy who shot him gets caught."
"Me neither," I said. "I'm going to do a little checking when I go down to the cop shop tomorrow morning."
"Oh, yeah, you work the police beat. You can get a line on this."
Next morning I went to the criminal investigation bureau at police headquarters, where one of my best contacts, Detective Brad Teen, worked. Luckily, he was in, and he told me that he'd been put in charge of the case.
"I've hardly got anything to work on," he said to me, knowing that I was always seeking news of progress on high-profile cases. I pretended to have only a routine interest in the case, and carefully avoided asking about any specific leads, such as patient lawsuits.
"I saw that Dr. George didn't have any enemies," I said casually.
"No he didn't, and I wouldn't expect him to have any. He was just a doctor who delivered babies," Jim said.
"I guess that wouldn't get him any enemies," I speculated. At that point Brad got up and said:
"Let's go out for coffee, Jack. It's my break, and I want to get out of the building." We went to a diner on the next corner, and when we'd sat down in a booth and ordered, Jim said:
"Funny thing is, I met him once."
"Socially?" I asked. Not knowing where this would lead.
"Remember three years ago, when my sister had her baby? Doctor Meyer delivered the kid, and the next day he dropped dead of a heart attack. He was only 55. Well, Meyer died before he could perform the circumcision, and a couple of days later, after she and the boy had been discharged from the hospital, Maryann asked me to drive her and the kid to Doctor George's office. He was going to circumcise the boy since Doctor Meyer had died before he could do it." The hairs at the back of my neck stood up.
"I didn't like the idea of cutting off a perfectly normal foreskin," Brad continued. "I wasn't clipped and I know how nice it is to be the way nature made me. Still, my sister and her husband insisted on getting the boy cut, and there was nothing I could do about it. I drove them to Dr. George's office since Simon, my brother-in-law, was out of town on a job, and we sat in the waiting room while the doctor did the cutting. We heard the kid screaming through the walls, and we know it hurt him." It was a good thing I was sitting down as Brad related his story. The thought had me trembling, and I would have been unsteady on my feet if I'd been standing. I knew that the same thing had happened to me a few days after I'd been born. The doctor had ripped off my foreskin without anesthetic, as it wasn't fashionable back then to use anesthetics on babies. Doctors simply lied to the parents, telling them that babies were too young to feel pain. "I guess you might not Dr. George very much," I suggested. I wanted to feel out Brad without revealing my own thoughts quite yet. "Right, Jack. I think he might have been a very good obstetrician, but he'd been encouraging parents to have their kids clipped and he had all the other doctors in his hospital following his plan. Hardly any baby boys made it out of there intact." Brad's anger was evident in his voice.
"Well, he won't be doing that shit any longer," I contributed. Hearing this, Brad smiled slightly. "And you can imagine that I'm not going to exactly bust my balls to find who shot him," he said. I was determined to appear neutral for a while longer, and replied: "I think you've got a few other cases to work on, anyway." "Yeah, I do, and I'm going to concentrate on them. I'm not even going to look to see if any former patients of his have sued him for anything. I don't want to go there. Maybe I'm playing God, but it really hurts me to think that my nephew and lots of other boys had to suffer mutilation because of that guy." Now I decided to take a chance: "You know, Brad, I wasn't as lucky as you when I was born. The doctor clipped me and I've always hated it too." "Does that place you on my suspect list?" he asked with a wide grin. "No, I took care of this in a different way. I had plastic surgery as an adult to have a new hood grafted on my tip." "No kidding?" he asked. "I didn't even know that was possible." "It's possible, but nowadays not many guys who want their foreskins back are doing that. It's expensive and risky, and the results aren't good." "So what do they do?" Brad asked. "They stretch their remaining shaft skin until it's long enough to fold over the glans." "I'd like to see your results," Brad said. "Okay, come over to my place and I'll play show and tell," I suggested. "Can you break free now?" "Yeah, I'll call the office and tell them I won't be in for a couple of hours." He pulled a cell phone from his pocket as we got up. "It's on me," I said as I walked over to the cashier's podium. "Meet you at my place." He followed me and soon we pulled into my driveway. Inside, I took off my suit jacket and pants as he watched. "Ready?" I asked as I slipped my fingers into the waistband of my boxers. When he nodded, I pulled down my shorts. "It's kinda red and funny-looking at the end," Brad observed. "That's because the plastic surgeon used scrotal skin for the graft," I retorted. Brad moved closer to me and grasped my penis by the nipple of my foreskin, which extended beyond the glans about an inch. Squeezing it slightly he observed: "It's a lot thicker than mine." He let go and dropped his pants and shorts. His limp penis was about the same ength as line, and had a pronounced bulge near the end, in front of which the foreskin tapered to form a nipple much like mine. He looked into my eyes and continued: "When you first got on the police beat, I did a background search on you. I know you're Bi. So am I. I'd be dead meat in the department if anybody found out. Things are loosening up, but not that much yet." As he'd spoken, his fingers had returned to my penis, rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger. I reached for his and spoke: "Okay, I understand. Yours feels very nice. I've never handled an uncut prick before. The guys I've been with have all been either circumcised or restored. This is the first natural foreskin I've ever handled."
"You're getting hard now," Brad said. "I'd like to stroke yours until you come." I saw that we both had about six inches, and our pricks were slightly thicker than average. "I'm all for that," I answered. "Let's get our clothes off and do it. I'll want to make you come the same way too." We quickly shed the rest of our clothing and I led him to the bedroom, picking up a couple of towels from the bathroom on the way. By the time the anticipation had me fully hard, and when I sat down Brad sat next to me and began stripping back my hood. I again grasped his prick and said: "You're right. Your natural foreskin's a lot thinner than mine. It's long, though. Both of us are fully hard but there's enough skin to cover the head." "Does yours skin back? It feels kinda tight to me." As he spoke he was testing my foreskin, jiggling it up and down my glans slightly. "It takes more effort but yeah, it goes back. Try it and see." I was still palpating his glans through his long thin hood, tightly stretched over the helmet-shaped bulge. Now he tightened his grip and slowly peeled back my hood, gradually exposing my tip. "You've got a big purple helmet, a lot like mine," he said. "Your balls are tight, though. Is that because the doctor took some skin to make your new foreskin?" "Yes, it took a lot of scrotal skin," I replied. "With a big helmet like that I'm not surprised. I'm glad you've got one like mine. "It's really nice-looking." I began pulling the foreskin down off his head, admiring the glossy tip as it came into view. "I think the glans is the most attractive part of the penis," I said. "Yours is really nice too." Both our pricks were now straining inside their sheaths, the helmets completely exposed to view and glossy in the soft room light. "They're all different, you know," Brad said. "Ours almost look like twins, but yours has a teardrop shaped slit that pouts, while mine is longer and doesn't pout." A drop of clear fluid was now parting the lips of his long slit. "You're already secreting juice," I said. "Mine is always a bit dry. I have to use Astroglide to keep it moist and slippery." "We both have flaring rims," Brad told me as he stretched the skin back from around my corona. "We both have that sexy-looking upturn at the rim." I pulled down harder on his skin to bare the groove behind the corona, inhaling the rich masculine odor of his hot wet glans and foreskin. "You've got a bit of cheese behind the rim," I said. "I don't get that. The doctor who clipped me cut away all of my inner skin and the gee-string too." "I'd noticed that your frenulum seemed to be missing," he said as he pulled my foreskin up to enclose my glans, producing a delicious friction in the nerve endings. "Did you ask the plastic surgeon to put back a new frenulum?" "No, it never occurred to me," I answered. "I just wanted the glans covered to keep it moist so that it would regain some sensitivity." "Has it?" Brad asked me. "Oh, definitely," I replied. "Now I can get to orgasm without tightening my crotch muscles. I never was able to do that before. Brad pushed me down on the bed as he spoke: "Let's see you get to orgasm." He began pumping my foreskin up and down the swollen head with a steady rhythm. "Am I doing it right?" "You're doing it exactly right," I said. "You've got lots of practice stroking a foreskin, and it's working right for me." He accelerated slightly and I concentrated on relaxing my body, while still retaining my grip on his prick, feeling its inner hardness through the long supple skin covering. "I'm using long strokes now," he explained. "That's best for working on the entire glans. When you get close I'll concentrate on just the rim. That way it'll take you a little longer to come, and you'll enjoy those last seconds more." "You're an expert," I murmured. "You're doing it just right." My prick was definitely responding to the stimulation, and I felt an involuntary tightening deep inside me. "Your tip's getting harder and more swollen," he said as he changed his strokes, pulling my foreskin back until it formed a thick fleshy ring behind my corona and bumping the rim with every up-stroke. "That's just right," I whispered. "I can feel the head swelling." "It's also getting darker, like mine does," he commented. "Without the skin and my fingers putting pressure on the head, it's swelling to the max." His insistent stroking was driving me into another world, and I began withdrawing into myself as my body absorbed the delicious erotic sensations his fingers were delivering. My eyes closed, a fact that he noticed immediately. "You're really close, Jack. I can feel it. Your balls are really tight now, and the tip's very dark. You've even got a drop of lube at the hole." I'd felt a drop of natural lubricant crawling up my urethra as I'd listened to his words, and now I felt it filling my pouting meatus. "I'm close," I confirmed. Now I felt a tickling sensation in my rim, and I knew the dam would burst in a few seconds. My prick strained under his touch, and the tickle had spread all over my helmet, even where he wasn't stroking. "Your tip's so shiny..." he murmured as he bumped my rim several more times. My body tightened with excitement as I felt the tickle in my glans change into a hot tingle that spread quickly down my shaft. A sudden spasm gripped my cock-root as I saw a red flash in front of my eyes, and the heavy pounding of my orgasm began. Hot liquid shot into my urethra and burned its way up the shaft as I felt Brad's fist tighten on my prick as he brought my foreskin halfway up my glans to intensify my sensations. The torrent burst from my tip as I cried out, and then I felt another hard tightening deep inside me. Another hot spasm gripped my cock-root and I felt another jet shooting up my prick. It felt like hot lava as it burned its way up to erupt from my throbbing glans . I moaned helplessly as the fury of my orgasm coursed through my body, and another torrent of sperm burst from me. I was moaning mindlessly, enraptured by the thrilling sensations, aware only of Brad's fingers gripping my prick and the hot throbs that almost annihilated my consciousness. I was in a daze now. My throbs had weakened and stopped. A feeling of languor was creeping over me. I heard Brad's voice: "I really liked that, Jack. "I held your skin back slightly even while I was pumping you, to watch the jizm shooting out of your cock-tip." "That felt really good for me, Brad. As I said, you're an expert." I noticed that at some point I'd released Brad's prick, and as I opened my eyes I saw that he was still fully hard. He answered my unasked question: "You let go of my cock when you were getting close. If you'd kept stroking me I would have shot too." I grasped his erection again, and as the foreskin was fully up over his helmet I began easing it back in small strokes. He lay back, but he was still holding my prick as it softened. "I held off wiping you down because I know your cock was too sensitive. Mine gets very sensitive when I come." He turned slightly towards me and used the towel to wpie the sperm off my glans as he covered it with my hood. I took the other towel and placed it on his stomach. "Now it's your turn," I said. "Just relax and let me do the work." I worked his foreskin back in stages. "I know that the stretchy feeling is a terrific turn-on for uncut guys," I explained. "You can feel the nerve endings in your foreskin stretching as I pull it back over that big helmet." His slit was weeping slippery tears that made the long thin hood slide more easily as I worked on it. "Now I'm going to pull it all the way back and then some. I want to get your tip bare right back to the groove." "Oh, that feels terrific," he whispered as I put more tension on his foreskin, dragging it back until it rode over the high upturned rim and snapped down into the deep groove behind it. "You've got a really beautiful helmet, Brad. I really appreciate it." The large blunt nose of his glans was parted by a long slit that seeped lubricant as I watched, and now I pulled his foreskin forward again to scoop up the liquid and make his glans slick. He had propped his head up on a pillow and was avidly watching my ministrations. "Your fingers feel really good on my cock," he said. I was lightly running his foreskin up and down, almost to the end and then back down to bare the glans right to the rim. "Your balls are getting tight," I observed. "They were loose before, but now they're right up against your body." "You know what that means," he said. Indeed I did. It meant that his excitement was rising quickly. He was already hot from having handled my prick. He'd watched it spurt, and he'd felt the hot throbs in my glans and shaft as the orgasm had consumed me, and this meant that he was primed for his climax. "I know you're already pretty hot," I said. "I'm going to take it nice and slow, so that you enjoy the ride before I make you blast off. Brad was secreting copiously, and the thin slippery fluid was running down his glans onto my encircling fingers. "You're so wet I'm losing my grip on your foreskin," I said. "I'm going to pull it all the way down and give you direct action on the helmet." As I drew the thin sheath down behind his corona I knew that direct friction would speed his response, and I was careful to use only a light touch. Even this was super-stimulating to his sensitive tip, and he moaned softly. "That's so hot, so stimulating..." His voice trailed off. "Your tip's getting harder," I commented. "It's getting darker purple, and the rim's almost black. It'll start throbbing any second now." As I spoke I watched Brad staring fixedly at his dark purple glans, straining between my fingers and leaking lubricant heavily. He began moaning loudly, his chest heaving, as the sharp sensations bit into his tender flesh. His legs began to tremble. "AAAAHHHHH!" he yelped as I felt his hot hard helmet throb between my caressing fingers. A thick jet of cream slammed through the lips of his long slit, arcing high before landing on the towel. I gripped his prick full-fisted now, twisting my fingers hard around the head and retracted foreskin to give him a jolt of sensation and bring forth his second ejaculation. He threw his head back and yelped again. His prick throbbed again and another hot jet erupted from his bulging tip, and his yelps changed to heavy grunts as the orgasm raged through his contorting body. As his uncircumcised helmet was more sensitive than mine, he was having a full-body orgasm, more intense than what I'd experienced. I also knew that his glans would become unbearably sensitive in another second or two, and I stopped the friction and just kept his foreskin and gee-string under tension as his next spasms consumed him and his prick emptied itself.
Now he was still, his eyes closed, stunned by the violence of his ejaculations. I held his prick gently to avoid the sensitive head touching the rough towel, and we stayed that way for a couple of minutes until he opened his eyes and spoke: "That was fantastic, Jack. You're a real expert at getting a guy off. I don't remember it being that intense before." I eased his foreskin forward over the shrinking helmet and let it drop onto the towel. "Glad to do it, Brad. You gave me a hot one too, you remember." "Yeah, I saw. You drained yourself too." "And I was returning the favor, Brad. Also, I was experiencing your orgasm vicariously as I felt your prick throb and watched it shoot." His face clouded for a moment before he spoke again: "Something I've got to tell you. It's about this latest case. "Doctor George isn't the only one who's been getting knocked off. There have been other shootings around the country involving doctors. The only thing that connects them is that all of the doctors who got iced were connected with clipping babies somehow." "You mean this guy shot others?" I asked, feigning ignorance. "No, it's not one guy. It can't be. Different weapons, different locales. One doctor even got bumped off when his car exploded. One perpetrator couldn't have done all that." "What do other departments say?" I asked, sensing that this was the moment to pump Brad for information. "Far as I know, nobody else has made the connection. You know how cops are. They're very territorial. Agencies don't exchange information. I think I'm the only one who spotted the pattern." "Different shooters, but commonality of motivation," I mused. "Yeah, that's it. That's the way it's been. It's been going on for months. Maybe years. There was a doctor right here a while back who got beat up, not shot. That might have been the first case. Never solved. No suspects. I looked hard then, because I thought it was a mugging gone bad. Then I realized that it had to be more than that. Whoever did it made sure the doctor's hands were smashed. He'll never do another circumcision."
Continued in Part 14