Exploring, Part 14 By Jackinnm@yahoo.com
Brad and I stayed at my home the rest of the day. We both had enough seniority to be able to get away from the workplace without incurring any problems. His revelations about his knowledge of the doctors having been killed had stunned me, especially as he was both a very experienced police investigator and appeared to be tacitly in favor of the killings. At least, he was turning a blind eye to them.
Brad still had his foreskin, but he resented the wholesale slaughter of infant foreskins by doctors who tricked the parents into consenting to their sons' mutilation. He was very well aware of the advantages of remaining intact.
"I'm glad to see that you have a large helmet on yours," I commented at one point.
"I've always liked it. Yours is big too."
"I'd heard that guys who still had their foreskins had smaller tips than those who had been circumcised," I added. "However, I've been in enough locker rooms to know that this isn't true. I've seen a lot of cut guys with small tips, and lots of intact guys with big bulges under their foreskins, just like you have."
"I've seen that too," Brad said. "I'm sure that if you had never been clipped your helmet would be the same size it is now."
"Well, getting a new foreskin put on my prick hasn't caused my glans to shrink at all," I said.
"I saw that," he replied. "Both of us have nice heads on ours. That sexy upturned rim is really attractive."
"I was surprised to find out you're Bi," I said, changing the subject. "I'm sure you have to keep this very quiet in your department."
"I really do," he said. "If you're a cop, you have to be straight-arrow. That means you'd better be married by the time you're 30 or so, or they start looking at you suspiciously. You know I'm married, and have a couple of kids."
"Let me guess- both boys, and both uncircumcised."
"Almost," he laughed. "One girl and one boy. Both uncircumcised, however."
"I was married once," I said. "We had no children, though."
"I went through the bullshit some unclipped boys go through," said Brad, "being called "doggie dick" by some of the cut guys in my school. I didn't give a shit, though. I knew I had better sensations in my dick than those whose skins had been amputated. When we had circle jerks as kids, I always won over the cut guys. I was able to come faster because my tip was more sensitive."
"My tip became more sensitive after I'd had the new hood for a couple of months," I added. "I'd always been bothered by the loss of sensitivity.
"Were you angry about having been clipped?" Brad asked. I wasn't sure if the note of suspicion in his voice was only my imagination.
"Sure I was angry. I'd been victimized and I was damn mad about it," I replied, knowing that I had a clear and unanswerable argument if Brad suggested that someone angry at having been circumcised might kill the doctor who had inflicted it on him.
"Okay, you were angry, and what did you do about it?" he asked predictably.
"You can see what I did about it," I said, pointing to my penis where the darker tone of the graft and the scar from the surgery were clearly visible.
"Well, I think you did the right thing," he admitted. "I'm glad you didn't decide to shoot the guy that clipped you. There's always a chance of getting caught. Anyway, your new skin looks almost natural."
"The plastic surgeon wasn't very good," I admitted. "The new foreskin is thicker than the natural one, darker on tone, and the surgery left scars. "It was a sloppy job, but I'm happy with what I have. You know, half a loaf is better than none."
"It works pretty well," Brad said, reaching to fondle my prick. "I saw you shoot a load to be proud of." He now was pulling gently on the nipple and twisting it to give me an erection. My prick began swelling, and I grasped his squeezing the big helmet through its sleeve of skin.
"Ever dock a guy with that skin?" he asked me.
"Yeah, but not with a hard-on," I replied. "I've got a big helmet like yours. That leaves no room for another guy's tip when it's swollen. How about you?"
"I did, once. One guy I knew was cut, and he wanted to feel a foreskin over the head of his cock in the worst way. I told him he'd have to make me come first, so that my tip would be small enough to give him room inside my skin. He stroked me off, and after the sensitivity died down, he was able to get his tip inside my skin. He was so excited from having stroked me that he shot off in a few seconds."
"That's about what happened with me," I said. "No way I can dock a guy with a head as big as mine. I have to be soft."
"We're reading from the same page, you and I," Brad said. "We're both into cocks, we're both into skins, and we both enjoy hand jobs. Our cocks are also a lot alike, except that you've been cut and had it repaired."
"We're about the same size, and both have big purple helmets," I added. "Our slits are different, though."
"You've got a big vein running down the right side of your shaft," Brad observed. "My big vein runs along the top."
"It forks right around your rim," I said. "It splits into two smaller veins going off to each side." We were both fully hard now, stimulated by both the discussion and the mutual fondling.
"Be nice if we could dock," Brad said wistfully.
"I think we can," I answered. "Ever hear of a buddy sleeve?" He nodded "no." I reached into the bedside drawer.
"This is it," I continued. "See, it's a soft plastic tube. We insert our pricks from each end until they meet in the middle and then we go at it until we lose our loads."
"That's ingenious. It's very simple. Let's try it," he said as he rolled onto his side to face me. We carefully slipped our pricks inside until his glans was pressed against mine. The clear plastic allowed us to see our swollen pricks inside.
"Usually, I put a few drops of Astroglide in the tube first, Brad, but you produce so much natural lube I don't think we'll need it." I began sliding the tube back and forth along our pricks, applying gentle pressure, and a look of rapture came over Brad's face.
"Hey, I really love that. Your tip feels so hot against mine," he said.
"I can see how it's affecting you, Brad. Your balls are drawing up tight against your body. You're also leaking a lot." Despite our previous orgasms we were rapidly becoming very excited, and Brad commented on this:
"We're always slower the second time around, but I think we're so hot right now that we're gonna lose it pretty damn quick."
"I think so too," I answered. "I can see our helmets are already turning dark."
"I can feel your tip's harder than before, Jack. It's pressing right against mine and it feels rock-hard now."
"Yours too," I breathed. Brad slipped his hand between us to cup my balls.
"Doesn't matter who comes first," he said. "If you come first I'll be right behind you."
"And if you shoot first, the first blast of your hot cream will make me go."
"My tip's getting tingly," he whispered.
"Mine too," I gasped through my moans.
"OOOOOHHH!" he groaned as I felt his hard shaft throb and his glans hammered against mine. The hot discharge sprayed against the blunt nose of my helmet and the cream swirled around behind my rim. My eyes closed as the heavy pounding of orgasm began deep inside me.
"I grunted loudly as the first heavy discharge shot up my tube to spray against his throbbing helmet. Brad grunted again and I felt another hot stream splash over the front of my dome, triggering another ejaculation from me. Brad cried out loudly and shuddered, his hot hard prick now thrusting against mine and releasing another jet of hot liquid that mixed with mine. My prick responded with another liquid blast and I cried out helplessly at the overpowering sensations.
We released several more loads until we'd drained ourselves. The tube was flooded with our mixed ejaculations. I'd stopped stroking the tube after several ejaculations because my glans was getting very sensitive, but our orgasms had continued until they'd trailed off into weaker spasms. We lay still, prick to prick, and our erections subsided. As our pricks shrunk some of the cream oozed from the ends of the plastic sleeve onto the bed sheet. When Brad spoke after several minutes, it was a whisper:
"You know what happened then?" he asked. Before I could answer he went on: "Your second shot, I think it was, you shot right down my tube. Your tip was pressed hard against mine, and the holes must have been right in line. I felt this hot fire shooting down my tube and I blasted off again, really shooting a load this time."
"That's happened to me once before," I responded weakly. "I think usually the holes are misaligned when guys dock."
"Our tips are so much like they lined up pretty well," he said. "Both our holes are right at the end and in the middle. Most guys have holes that are a little high or a little low. They can't line up."
"I guess we're pretty lucky," I said, my voice stronger now as I recovered from the orgasm's after-shock. Brad's muscular arms encircled me as he hugged me to him, and the buddy sleeve slipped off our limp pricks. I grasped his prick and eased the long foreskin forward to encase his glans, and then covered mine was well.
"Want help in changing the sheets?" Brad asked when he saw the large wet spot our drained fluids had created.
`Yeah, I guess so," I replied. We quickly stripped the bed and put on fresh sheets.
"I think we're both ready for a shower," I suggested.
"I think so too," he said. We went into the bathroom and I ran the shower until the water was warm. We luxuriated in the shower, letting the hot water flow over us for several minutes. That's when I noticed that my bladder was full, and I said:
"I'm going to have to pee. If you want to let go, go ahead. It'll just flow down the drain." I was slightly surprised when I felt Brad's strong fingers pinch the end of my foreskin nipple.
"I often do this when I have to pee in the shower," he explained. "This stretches the skin and it feels so good." I relaxed my sphincter and let the flow begin. It didn't take long for my foreskin to balloon out, and at this point he released it, sending my thick yellow gush hurtling to the bottom of the shower.
"Now I'll skin you back to get your tip rinsed off," he said as he pulled my foreskin back to lock behind my rim. I pinched the end of his long hood, knowing that he'd be releasing momentarily. I watched as his foreskin started to swell with the trapped urine, and when I judged that it was on the point of becoming uncomfortable I let go. His gush mixed with the residue of my stream on the floor of the shower.
"Both our foreskins lock behind our rims," I observed as I skinned him back. A thick stream was still flowing, parting the lips of his long slit, although mine had stopped by now. We stood under the hot water that flowed over our naked helmets, coaxing the last drops of urine from our bodies.
We soaped each other and let the shower spray rinse the suds off our bodies. Then we dried each other top to bottom, and I carefully eased Brad's hood down over his helmet to keep it moist and protected. He did the same for me, and then we got dressed.
"It's about five now," he said. "I'd better be getting home Can I use your phone?" I pointed to the bedside telephone in reply. He called his wife to let her know he'd be home in a half hour.
"That was nice," he said as he gave me a hug before leaving. "We've got to do it again soon." I let him out the door and returned to the kitchen to mix a drink.
Two days later Brad phoned me at the newspaper and suggested that we meet for lunch. We took a booth at the rear of a pizza shop, out of earshot of the other patrons.
"Another doctor got shot," he began. "This happened in southern Illinois. I don't know what the doctor's background is, but I may get more information later. It happened about half and hour before I phoned you at the paper, so I know for sure you've got an alibi," he continued half-seriously. I grinned at him.
"I don't even own a rifle," I said. "Anyway, I'm glad you believe I didn't do it."
"Never thought you were the perp," he said. "Anyway, I'm really glad I can be sure."
"Do you really think someone iced this doctor because of some connection with circumcision?"
"I've got no way of knowing right now, not until I get more information, but still I think it just might follow the pattern." We made small talk until we'd finished eating, and then we returned to work, he at the police station and I at the newspaper.
That evening Chris came to see me. He said he had some news when he phoned me before coming over.
"I spoke with my brother-in-law today," he began. "We met for lunch, and he said there was some concern in the medical community that the doctor shootings were related. One of his buddies told him that some doctors were making the connection between the doctors who got killed and their stances regarding infant circumcision."
`Well, that's not too surprising," I replied. "The more doctors get shot, the more chance that someone's going to spot a patte rn. Are these doctors going to tell the cops?"
"No, I don't think so, from what he said. You know my brother-in-law's an ophthalmologist, so he's not personally concerned. However, the doctors he spoke to seemed to think that their theory is just too fantastic for them to tell the cops. They're afraid the cops wouldn't believe them, and anyway they don't want the news to get out. They think this might give other people ideas. They're afraid now that anyone who resented having been circumcised might think it was open season on clip doctors."
"So what are they going to do, if anything?" I asked.
"He told me that doctors who are in on this have become leery of doing any more circumcisions. They're afraid that these shootings might become a national trend. Any baby they clip today might come back at them tomorrow. If not the baby, then maybe his father, uncle, or older brother."
"Well, if that's true it's a hopeful sign."
"Yeah it is," Chris continued. "They think their lives are more important than the money they make from clipping babies or selling their foreskins to bio-labs.
Continued in Part 15