Exploring, Part 2 By Jackinnm@yahoo.com
The day after Super Bowl Sunday, Chris came to my house after work. I'd been to his several times, but we hadn't seen each other for several weeks. I was already naked when I let him in, and he quickly stripped down as I took two bottles of beer out of the refrigerator. It was a warm day in the Southwest, unlike the freezing weather up north.
I grilled hamburgers in my back yard which, like his, had a high fence to block the view from the street and neighbors' yards. One thing I had that Chris did not was a Jacuzzi. As we ate the burgers and coleslaw, I remarked:
"I think you've got a bit more length." I was referring to his foreskin, which he was restoring by keeping it taped forward over his big mushroom glans.
"I've been keeping it taped almost 24 hours a day," he said. "I really want my skin back, and I'll do whatever it takes to get one like yours." He was referring to my surgically restored hood, which extended an inch beyond the end of my helmet-shaped head when I was limp and completely covered my glans even with erection.
"Ready for another beer?" I asked as I got up to go into the kitchen.
"That's for sure," he said. "Okay if I turn on the TV to watch the news?" I nodded over my shoulder and within seconds one of the talking heads was reading the news on the TV I kept on the patio table.
"Police today are investigating the shooting of Dr. David Brooks on the front steps of his home," the news reader was saying as I came back with the beers. "They do not have a suspect and sources close to the investigation told us that there was no apparent motive for the killing." Chris clicked off the TV and said:
"Holy shit! Do you know who that guy is? He's the creep who's been pushing circumcision of all male babies for years."
"I know," I replied. "He's got his own web site and he's even written a book advocating mandatory circumcision for all baby boys. A real asshole." Suddenly we looked at each other, thinking the same thought.
"Eric didn't do it, did he?" I asked. His cousin's son Eric had recently caught up to the doctor who had circumcised him as an infant, and had smashed his hands with a length of rebar. The police had not had a clue regarding who had been responsible.
"No, Jack, I'm sure he didn't do it. I was over there with Jerry and Pam to watch the game, and Eric was in the house all the time, although he didn't watch the game. Anyway, this Dr. Brooks is in California, and that's about 800 miles from here."
"Must have been somebody else, then. Who knows how many people didn't like Brooks and what he stood for," I said. "Anyway, want to get into the Jacuzzi? We can take a shower first, and then enjoy the bubbles." Chris nodded affirmatively and I led the way to the bathroom.
"That hot water's making the tape soak off," he said. I saw that the ring of tape around the end of his skin was loosening, and a minute later he peeled it from his prick, allowing the skin to slide back slightly to reveal the long slit at the end of his glans.
"The hot water makes me want to pee," I said. "If you have to go, better do it here in the shower instead of in the Jacuzzi."
"I once saw a kid on my block pinch the end of his skin when he peed. His skin swelled up like a balloon. Do you ever do that, Jack?" I pinched the end of my foreskin shut and let go, and we both watched as my hood ballooned out with the pressure of my stream.
"That's so cool," Chris commented. "Maybe I can do that now if I stretch the skin out." He grasped his prick, pulling the stretched shaft-skin out as far as he could, enough to enclose the glans, and then I saw his new hood begin to distend.
Now both of us had balloons at the ends of our pricks, and we let go, allowing the trapped liquid to gush out onto the floor of the shower. We drained ourselves and then rinsed off, peeling our hoods back to wash away any urine. We didn't bother drying ourselves, but walked out to the hot tub and stepped in. The water was already warm when I turned on the pump and bubbles flowed up through the water and over our bodies. I felt Chris fingering the long nipple of my foreskin.
"That felt really good when you docked me," he said. "One of these days I hope to have as much skin as you, and maybe I can dock you." My prick began to swell under the gentle stimulation, and I grasped his to reciprocate. I curled my fingers around the base, urging his shaft skin up over his rapidly swelling mushroom tip.
"You've got almost full coverage limp," I said.
"Yeah, but when I get hard my skin goes back off the head. Yours still covers your tip when you've got a hard-on."
"The warm water's very relaxing, and it's going to make the skin of our pricks and balls relax too," I said as I continued to pump his penis gently, feeling it harden in my hand.
"I can feel the skin of your cock already relaxing," he replied. "The end of your hood's not as tight as usual." He began stripping back my sheath, and I felt the hot water enveloping my helmet shaped head.
"That feels nice, the combination of your fingers and the hot water. If I hadn't already peed I'd be doing it now."
"Maybe not, with the way you're getting hard," Chris observed. "I never can pee with a hard-on."
"I can't either," I responded. "Anyway, you're making it very hard." Chris pulled my foreskin forward again and slipped his finger inside it, slowly massaging my glans.
"Does that feel good, the way I'm running my finger around your helmet?"
"Oh, yes," I whispered. His fingers caressed the broad upper surface of my swollen helmet, and then circled around my corona.
"I like the way your rim flares out," he said as he worked his finger down one side and up the other. I pulled his partly completed hood up and down, compressing his corona with each up-stroke, and then pulling down hard to stretch the nerve endings.
"I came last a week ago," I said. "What about you?"
"The same. I think we both really need to shoot our loads." I got to my feet, pulling him up with me and shutting off the pump. We went into the bathroom and dried each other, our pricks still fully hard and standing out in front of us.
"Your cock swings when you walk," he commented. "I like that, whether the skin's covering the head or not. It really looks cool."
"Yours does too," I said. "It's heavy-ended, like mine. Now your skin's pulled back and I can see the whole mushroom head." We went into the bedroom and sat side by side on my queen-size bed, still fondling each other's pricks. I felt his finger slip inside my foreskin again, and my prick jerked in response.
"Your tip's very sensitive," he said. "I hope mine gets sensitive like yours when I'm finished."
"It's already more sensitive, at least around the rim," I pointed out to him. "We found that out last time."
"Yeah, and my rim's gotten shiny like yours from being constantly wet inside that skin."
"That'll do it," I explained as I resumed pumping his slack skin up over his corona. "Keeping it constantly moist does increase the sensitivity, instead of having it exposed and rubbing dry against your clothing."
"Our cocks are a lot alike," he continued. "Both are about six inches, on the thick side, and straight. Some guys' are curved."
"Mine has a thick vein running down the right side," I said.
"Our tips are both big, but with different shapes. You've got a helmet, and mine's a mushroom. Your rim flares out a lot at the top."
"Yours has a long slit," I pointed out.
"Your slit's not as long but when the head swells, it pouts like a teardrop. I like that. That looks so sexy, Jack." I saw natural lubricant flowing from between the lips of his slit as he spoke, running down the contours of his glans to make the foreskin very slippery. The excess ran out over my encircling fingers, and I lost my grip on his hood.
"Guess I'll have to stroke your big mushroom directly," I said.
"Do it, Jack!" he said. "Your fingers feel so good on the naked head now that it's gotten more sensitive." I gave him several long strokes, my fingers riding over his rim and down the taper of his glans, and I felt his body become tense.
"You're really close now," I said. You sure you're ready to come?"
"Oh, yeah, I wanta come," he gasped. "I need to blow my load when your fingers work on my cock. I just can't resist!" He pulled me down on the bed and turned toward me, so that the end of his mushroom tip touched the end of my glans. His hand, stroking my foreskin, kept my prick pined up with his.
"That feels nice," I said. "Your tip's nice and smooth." His glans did feel glassy-smooth against mine, partly because it was very well lubricated.
"Your tip feels smooth too," he said as he continued to pump my foreskin and I twisted my fist around his now naked glans. "Maybe we can come together if we time it right."
"Your tip's really swollen now," I commented, as I felt the surface of his glans harden with his increased excitement. "You'll be creaming any second."
"Oh, oh, oh," he moaned, losing control as his eyes rolled back in his head.
"Let yourself go, Chris, don't worry about me," I urged. His first cry of ecstasy filled the air as his back arched and he thrust his prick hard against mine. I felt the hard throb in his turgid glans as the first hot jet poured from his slit, coating my helmet and foreskin.
He cried out again in agonized ecstasy as another torrent of cream poured out over my prick and my fingers, and I felt the throb of his mushroom against my glans as it pumped out his fluid. The heat of his hot lava triggered my orgasm, and I grunted hard as my insides convulsed, sending my own torrent forward to meet his own.
We were groaning and grunting mindlessly, lost in the throes of orgasm, as our juices mixed, spilling over our joined pricks, our fingers, and the bed. I felt the throbs of his glans in orgasm hammering against mine, heightening my ardor. My eyes were closed, normal for me when I go through orgasm, but the sensations were washing through my body, from the tingling tip of my prick down to my toes.
Our bodies strained against each other, caught up in the fury of orgasm, as our pricks gushed again and again, swollen heads and throbbing shafts sending messages of joy to our brains. My conscious mind shut down, and all of my attention was focused on the thrills running through my prick.
The orgasm faded, and I lay very still, aware of the thin seep of residue working its way up my urethra and dribbling out of my swollen orifice. Now I felt my erection softening, and I opened my eyes. Chris was looking at me, and he said:
"Man, that was terrific! I really felt your big helmet throbbing hard when you started to come. You were only a few seconds behind me."
"I didn't think I was going to come for awhile, but when I felt your hot cream hitting my helmet, everything let loose inside me," I said. We still held each other's sopping pricks, which were rapidly becoming limp.
"Let's not move for a minute," he suggested. "I know your tips gets really sensitive after you come, and mine's a little sensitive too." I knew what he meant. Ever since my glans had regained a protective covering, it had become more sensitive from being constantly moist, and as he was restoring, he was also regaining sensitivity because the keratinized tissue of his glans was becoming softer.
Finally, I moved and said:
"I think we're both okay now. Let's get the sheet and mattress cover into the washer. They're both soaked with our cream." I got up, and Chris joined me. Together we stripped the bed and carried the linens into the bathroom, where I had my washer and dryer. I put them into the washer and added detergent. The washer cycle would take a half-hour and the dryer would take about an hour, so I pulled a fresh set from the linen closet in the hall and we made the bed.
"Time for another beer," I suggested as I led him into the kitchen. We sat at the table, sipping our beers and not saying much because we were lost in thought.
"Too bad we don't get together more often," Chris said.
"Oh, well, our work schedules interfere," I replied.
"I work long hours at the store and you're a newspaper reporter," he said.
"Our free hours usually don't coincide," I replied.
"I really like you, though, Jack. Even if it's only now and then, I want to go on seeing you."
"I feel the same way, Chris. You're really a nice guy."
"We're both into foreskin restoration," he said. "You got yours back by plastic surgery, and I'm stretching mine."
"Well, that's a good reason for keeping in touch," I added.
Continued in Part 3