Exploring, Part 16 By Jackinnm@yahoo.com
Although we had not planned to get together the following weekend, Brad phoned me Friday evening at home and asked if he could come over the following morning because he had something important to tell me. I was always glad to see him, but this time he had a note of urgency in his voice that told me that this was very important.
He arrived around eight, and I invited him into the kitchen where I'd been drinking coffee while reading the paper. He accepted a cup and began while I listened avidly:
"We arrested a doctor this week, Crenshaw's his name, who works at the same hospital as Dr. George. He's in the same department, delivering babies. Thursday morning he had a nurse set up a baby for circumcision. This involves strapping the kid into a plastic tray so he can't move while his skin's getting cut off. When the kid was strapped in, Crenshaw told the nurse he wouldn't be needing her anymore. She didn't think there was anything unusual, since he often likes to work alone. She left and he closed the door behind her."
"After she left she remembered something she had to ask the doctor. She opened the door and stopped after it was open just a couple of inches. There was the doctor, bent over the tray and sucking that little kid's cock!"
"This nurse is young, but she's very sharp. She knew that if she reported this without a witness, it would be just her word against Crenshaw's, so she closed the door quietly and ran for the Director of Nursing. They went back and this sick pervert was still sucking on this kid's cock. They stood there for a few seconds and then the Nursing Director slammed the door hard. This got the bastard's attention, and he stood up."
"I'd be really interested in what kind of explanation he gave, if he even tried," I said.
"Oh the lying fuck had an explanation, all right," said Brad. "He said he gave the kid a hard-on so he could judge the amount of skin to remove. Well, the Nursing Director wasn't buying that and she picked up the baby, tray and all, and took the kid to her office. Then she got on the phone to the hospital administrator, her boss. When she'd finished he came right down with the hospital's Medical Director. They had Crenshaw paged and they called us. My partner and I got out there just as they and Crenshaw were having an argument. The damn degenerate was still lying like hell, like a blow job was standard medical procedure before circumcision."
"Did you arrest the fucker right then?" I asked.
"Almost," Brad answered. "We had two witnesses, but as we hadn't witnessed the crime ourselves, we had to get a warrant. We've got a procedure set up with the courts for telephone warrants. I phoned the judge on duty, explained what we had, and he gave me authorization over the phone to arrest the doctor. By the time we got back with our prisoner, the judge had sent over the paperwork. We booked him and set the arraignment for next morning."
"How did he do in jail?" I asked. "I've heard other inmates really hate molesters and kick the shit out of them or worse."
"We had that covered. We put him in an isolation cell away from the other inmates for his own protection. Then we notified the kid's parents. That afternoon we got to their home and both parents were there. They'd picked up the kid at the hospital. The mother was discharged at the same time. The kid was safely home, and uncut."
"I bet that caused them some concern," I said.
"There was a real shit-storm going on when we got there. The father hadn't wanted his boy to be clipped, but the mother insisted on it. She was the one in the hospital, and she signed the consent form. That's all that Crenshaw needed." He shook his head and went on:
"Well, we thought we might have to arrest them over domestic violence or something, but my partner and I got them separated and calmed down. It turns out that Crenshaw wasn't the doctor who delivered the kid. That sick fuck was the only doctor in the hospital who'd do a circumcision."
"After all that's happened," I mused out loud. "He must be really sick or obsessed."
"Yeah, but it's what came next that's really interesting. We took a statement from the parents, and by the time we'd finished the mother was almost in tears. She realized that it was her insistence on having their boy circumcised that put him in that pervert's hands. She felt really guilty over having endangered their son. I'm sure that kid will grow up with everything nature gave him. Any other kids she has will be natural too."
"Well, I guess she learned her lesson," I said.
"She did, but here's what happened next morning. We were there at the arraignment, and Crenshaw had a high-powered lawyer with him who pleaded him not guilty and asked for bail! The judge let him out on fifty thou bail, and he walked. The trial's set for three months from now."
"You think he'll flee and not be around for trial?" I asked.
"No, I think if he's out walking around, he's a target. In the jail we could protect him. On the street, he's dead meat for anyone who wants his hide. He just might not show for his trial, but not because he jumped bail. We're not about to provide a bodyguard for him, and this cocksucker is surely in the thoughts of whoever popped Dr. George."
"It's strange that this hasn't appeared in the news media," I reflected. "I never heard a thing about it at the paper."
"Well, I guess it slipped through the cracks," Brad said. "There is other news in the world."
"Any idea who iced Dr. George?" I asked.
"No, still no clue and no leads. Without a personal connection, it could be anybody. There are half a million people in this city. You want a suspect list, just grab the phone book."
I began to strip down. We were both so energized by the conversation that we needed relief. Nature's Tranquilizer always works best. When Brad had shed his clothing, we went into the bedroom. We were both still limp, our pricks arcing out from our pubic bones, the covering skin stretched by the conspicuous bulge of the glans.
"I guess our cocks vary in size," he commented as he sat next to me. "It's warm today, and they're about four inches long.
"You're right," I said. "That happens to me all the time. Remember last time? Our pricks were about three inches long because it was cooler." I grasped his by the nipple of his long foreskin, twisting the compliant flesh between thumb and index finger. There was an immediate response, and his prick began to swell. He grasped mine around the glans, squeezing it through the foreskin to produce the bulbo-cavernal reflex.
"Bet that makes your cock throb," he said, staring into my eyes. I gave his foreskin a couple of gentle tugs to stretch the nerve endings, and then resumed twisting it.
"I used to jack off a lot with rubbers back then when I didn't have a foreskin," I said. "It felt very nice, and even after the surgery, when I had a new hood on my prick, I'd sometimes do it because it feels so nice." As I spoke I began easing Brad's foreskin back in stages from the swollen helmet. We both enjoyed the slow stretching of the first retraction, savoring the delicious sensations. They weren't like the urgent, piercing sensations of orgasm, but rather more delicate and subtle.
"I like stripping your skin back," he said. "The head comes into view bit by it." His strong fingers were pushing back my foreskin and then bringing it forward again before the next cycle of retraction. By this time I had Brad's big purple helmet completely bared and I reached for a condom.
"This is a Trojan Large," I said, showing him the green foil envelope. "I think it feels best when there's some slack in the condom. Also, it's not lubricated. I'll have to squirt in a shot of Astroglide. The latex is coated with talcum powder, and you can feel that when you slide the rubber over the glans." I lubricated the inside of the condom and stretched the first couple of inches over Brad's bloated glans, unrolling the rest down his shaft. I pushed him supine on the bed.
"I didn't have to put much lube in the condom," I explained. "You have a lot of natural lube and you'll have enough." Even now, through the translucent latex, I saw a large drop parting the lips of his slit. Looking down, I saw his scrotum begin to contract, bringing his balls against his body.
I gently stroked the condom over his big purple helmet, twisting the latex slightly with each stroke because I knew this enhanced his sensations. With my left hand I cupped his balls, feeling their warmth and the occasional throb that radiated out from the root of his prick. Brad was very aroused, and the direct friction against the sensitive surface of his glans made him moan with each stroke.
"I'm really hot right now," he whispered. "I don't know why but I'm ready to bust a nut."
"I know how hot you are, Brad. I can see how dark your tip is through the rubber and I can feel it's pretty hard."
"It's good your strokes are gentle," he added. "If you were giving me full hard strokes I would have shot already."
"I know you enjoy the build-up, Brad. "I get the same feeling of anticipation when you do me. Anyway, we both know that the longer the build-up the more intense it is when we do shoot." I maintained the slow, rhythmic stroking on the bloated end of his penis, sliding the lubricated latex over the taut nerve endings of his glans. I used little finger pressure, just enough to slide the latex over the contours of his helmet. Brad's left hand still grasped my erect prick, gently squeezing the glans through its enveloping foreskin.
"Let's try something a little different," I suggested. I grasped his swollen helmet through the latex, thumb on the flaring ridge and index finger probing the triangular groove underneath, and squeezed. I compressed the nerve endings in his swollen corona and pressed into his gee-string underneath, delivering a double dose of sensations to his straining prick-head. I felt and saw him shudder in response. He shifted slightly, placing a pillow under his head.
"I want to watch this," he explained. "You know how I like to watch you working on my dick." Indeed I knew. Visual stimulation often enhanced Brad's arousal, and he didn't close his eyes during orgasm most of the time.
"Okay, let's make your prick-root throb a few more times," I said as I gave him another squeeze with thumb and forefinger. I felt a powerful throb in both his helmet and tight scrotum, silent testimony to his response. A few more squeezes made his leg muscles tense, and I knew that from this point on he was totally under my control. I could delay or accelerate the onset of his climax as I chose.
"Your tip's really hot and hard now," I said as I stopped squeezing and resumed the gentle friction, working my fingertips over the latex-covered from dome of his helmet, and then down towards the proud flange at the rear. Running my fingertips around his hot hard flange, I saw his legs begin to tremble. His helmet was dark purple under the latex, and the lips of his long slit were pouting as a steady stream of lubricant poured through them. I was happy about this because I knew that Brad's copious lubrication would soften the sensations and minimize the risk of over-stimulating his hyper-sensitive glans once he began to come.
"OOOOOOHHHH!" I heard him moan as I felt his helmet throb between my fingers. I felt his balls contract hard and an instant later the front of the condom filled with cream. I closed my fingers around his latex-covered helmet and twisted hard. Brad yelped and another torrent of hot cream erupted into the sheath. I felt its heat against my fingers as I gave his hot hard tip another twisting squeeze, making him shoot again.
Now I grasped the whole of his shaft, working the loose latex in long strokes up and down its length, caressing the helmet and the drawn-back foreskin that bunched in the deep groove behind its ridge. I wanted to hit every nerve ending in Brad's beautiful prick, to give him the most intense orgasm possible.
Brad had released my prick as I'd brought on his climax, but I was still experiencing his orgasm vicariously. I wasn't ejaculating, but there was a steady tingle running up and down my shaft and glans, a reminder that soon I'd be having the same throes of release as Brad was having. I knew exactly what he was feeling, from the caresses on his helmet to the pulse-pounding sensations of ejaculation.
I gave his prick another full-length stroke, bringing forth another pulse of cream. The condom was filled with white viscous liquid, and I knew that he was safe from over-stimulation. I saw that his eyes were closed, and his head was rocking from side to side, an indication of the intensity of the frenzy of his orgasm.
Brad was still moaning as I stroked his throbbing prick into its final discharges. Now he was seeping rather than shooting, and the throbs had become much weaker. When his prick became still I released it, letting it rest upon his abdomen in its cocoon of lubricant and semen. I lay down beside him, my hard prick against his thigh, waiting for his breathing to return to normal.
Several minutes passed, and this did not surprise me, because I knew that Brad had drained himself during this manually induced orgasm, and recovery would take somewhat longer. Finally he opened his eyes, turned his head to kiss my cheek, and said:
"Thank you. That was terrific." I kissed him back on the for ehead. It might sound strange, but I appreciated that modest show of affection as much as I enjoyed the orgasms Brad gave me.
Now I felt his hand creeping between us to grasp my prick. He pulled away from me slightly and his fingers closed around my shaft behind the head, tugging gently at my hood.
"That feels nice," I murmured. He was pulling my foreskin back in small increments, baring more of the helmet with each stroke.
"I know you're all worked up from making me shoot," he said. "Now it's your turn. Want me to do it with a rubber?" His touch was so electrifying that it didn't matter to me whether he used a condom or not.
"Any way you want, just as long as it's you," I murmured, squeezing his free hand. "Any way you touch me at all gets me hot." I felt his lips against mine, a reward for the show of confidence I'd expressed.
"I'm going to use those long slow strokes we both like so much," he said. As he spoke he began to lengthen his strokes, uncovering more of my helmet on each slow down-stroke.
"That's beautiful," I whispered, almost mesmerized by the delicate sensations.
"Your skin's thick, but it's pretty stretchy," he commented as he firmly pulled it down to the rim of my glans. Now he pulled it up again to encase the helmet altogether. I turned onto my back and spread my legs to give him free access to my crotch, and felt the fingers of his free hand cup my balls.
"Your balls are always tight, but I've noticed they get a little bit tighter just before you come, he said. I felt his finger gently kneading my scrotum, just enough to make me aware of it.
"I like to watch your face when I stroke you," he continued. "Your expression changes a bit when you get close to exploding."
"I watch your face too," I responded. "I watch your prick as well."
"I always watch your cock," he said. "I like to see that big tip turn darker purple and feel it get hard as a rock just before it explodes." His insistent fingers had now uncapped my glans completely, holding the bunched skin back behind the upturned corona.
"I've got your tip out in the open now," he said. "I think it's time for some direct action." He put the fingers of his right hand to his lips.
"Saliva always works pretty well," he explained. "It's especially good for slow gentle strokes," he continued as he began working his wet fingertips around my corona, making its many nerve endings tingle.
"I noticed you've got these little bumps around your rim," he said. "I've seen them before on other guys. They're the nerve endings, little buds of sensation." His fingers confirmed his words, sending gentle thrills into the nerve endings that studded my rim.
"This is getting you hot," he continued. "You don't normally have much lube but now there's a drop filling your hole." His index finger touched my pouting meatus, and began working in small circles around it, spreading the clear viscous liquid over the front dome of my glans while his thumb still caressed my rim on top.
"I can feel how hard your tip is getting, Jack. It's really dark purple and I think if I gave your cock a few full strokes you'd explode right now."
"Oh, I'm really hot, Brad. Your magic fingers are making my prick so hard." His forefinger still traced circles around the front dome of my straining glans, titillating the many nerve endings there.
"I'm going to keep you on the edge as long as I can," Brad said. "I know how much you enjoy the ride, and how much hotter your explosion is when you take longer."
"Watching me does the same for you as watching you does for me," I said. "I really enjoyed watching your big helmet shooting inside that condom before."
"Now I'm going to watch you come bareback. I know you tell me that you dribble most of the time, but I've already seen you shoot when you're really hot," he said.
"I can feel another drop crawling up my tube," I whispered. It made slow progress up my shaft and eventually reached the orifice where his finger immediately began spreading it around the hole.
"When you're hot enough to be secreting like this it means your orgasm's going to be especially intense," he said as he continued his delicate massage of the nerve endings in my helmet. He'd released my balls, using the free hand to grasp my shaft near the base and pull the bunched up skin free of my helmet, also baring the deep groove behind it.
"I bet you hardly ever get touched here," he said as he pressed a couple of lubricated fingertips into the groove, working on the nerve endings there and in the flange of my helmet. My body responded with a shudder, which he noted:
"This really reached you, didn't it?" Now he pulled back hard on my shaft, stretching the nerve endings in it and the foreskin, giving me another spasm. His fingertips flicked around my rim, hitting all the nerve endings progressively, and I began to feel the tickle of final sensations. I felt him snap his finger against the broad upper surface of my helmet, shocking me with the unexpected sensation, and then he wrapped his fist around my glands and twisted hard.
My helmet began to tingle hard, and then my sensations exploded. My eyes snapped shut as my legs trembled, and a hot spasm wracked the root of my shaft. I cried out as the first hot jet burned its way up my prick. Brad twisted his fist again to bring forth another explosion, and I cried out helplessly as I felt the hot lava explode within me, sending a gush up my prick. His encircling fingers caught the flow and worked it into the flesh of my straining helmet, the heat adding to my excitement and making my prick root spasm again.
I was lost in the free-fall of my orgasm, my mind on "HOLD," and aware only of the captivating sensations in my own body. I released several more jets and then I was torpid, helpless in Brad's hands, dazed by the violence of my orgasm. I lay for several minutes and then was able to make out his voice:
"Well, you shot again, pal. There was no dribbling until the end. That first jet shot a foot into the air, and you were really vocal then. I caught the second one in my palm, and used it to lube your tip. The others shot a few inches. You really drained yourself." I opened my eyes to see Brad leaning over to kiss me on the lips.
Continued in Part 17