Exploring, Part 20 By Jackinnm@yahoo.com
After our intense orgasms that morning, Jim and I got out of bed to pee. Because we'd drained our sperm tanks during violent orgasms, we no longer had the usual morning wood. I led Jim into the shower and turned on the water, adjusting it to about as warm as I could stand. Jim and I quickly got ourselves rinsed, and then I took the shower spray nozzle and hose down from the wall mounting.
"Here, Jim, skin back all the way. This hot water's going to drain the piss out of you." Jim hauled back on his newly reconstructed foreskin until the hood lodged in the deep groove behind his rim. I played the hot water spray on the front of his shapely glans, a smaller duplicate of mine, and within a couple of seconds his strong yellow stream poured out of his tip. Some of it hit my legs, where it rinsed off immediately. It took a minute to drain his bladder completely, and then I handed the spray nozzle to him.
"Go ahead, now do me," I urged as I pulled my long foreskin back to lock behind my ridge. Jim immediately sprayed my helmet with the hot water and I felt my insides contract as I consciously relaxed my sphincter. My thick yellow gush poured from my distended orifice, mixing with Jim's residue on the shower floor.
"That really flushed whatever's left of our cream out of our dicks," he commented as he continued to play the water on my glans, extracting my urine until my bladder was running on empty. "It sure did," I agreed as I relaxed against the shower wall, enjoying the blessed release of draining myself. Now that we'd utterly drained ourselves of both sperm and urine, our pricks were definitely limp. We soaped each other's bodies and then rinsed off, finally drying each other with towels. I went to the kitchen to make coffee, turning on the TV to catch the news. Jim followed close behind me, as naked as I was. The house was warm and we felt perfectly comfortable bare-assed. "Police say that a gunman opened fire at Doctor Cutter early this morning, but missed," the blonde female news anchor said in her typically breathless manner. "Officers surrounded the area but the gunman got away. We take you live to Charles Manson Park, where James Slobber brings us a live report." Jim and I sat transfixed by the stunning news. "James Slobber here," said a young and husky man in a trench coat. His hair was obviously blown dry, and he gave the impression that his main focus was on making an impressive appearance, not delivering the news. Behind him we could see a grassy field and yellow crime scene tape delineating most of the area. "Doctor Cutter was jogging when a shot rang out," he continued. The bullet hit the grass not more than a yard from the doctor, who is now in seclusion. Police recovered the bullet, saying only that it was fired from a rifle. Back to you, Flossie." "And that's our news for the morning," chirped the talking head that filled the screen. I clicked the remote to shut off the TV. "What do you think of that?" Jim asked me. "I'm disappointed," I began. "I really think the cops shot a blank on this one, if you'll pardon the pun. They put out this decoy, but I don't think the guy who shot at him is any of those who have been doing the shootings so far." "Why not?" "Because so far the other shooters didn't miss. This guy did, and by a lot. This is probably some nut-cake who had an old rifle paying around and wanted his 15 minutes of fame." "The cops didn't do so well, either," said Jim. "I can't understand how they failed to nail him once he fired his shot." "I can't even guess on that question," I answered. "I can try to get the info from my sources in the police department." I set about preparing breakfast, and after we'd eaten, Jim left. The following Monday, I arranged a meeting with Brad, my police contact, to find out what I could. As his wife was out of town attending a conference, we met for dinner at a restaurant and then went to my place, where we got into the Jacuzzi. As we undressed I stole a look at his prick, envious of the natural foreskin that bulged over his helmet. He'd escaped the knife when he was born, while I had a hood that had been reconstructed by plastic surgery. "Well, I saw the business on TV Saturday," I began. "It looks like the shooter missed and your people failed to catch him." "Well, they're not my people," Brad countered irritably. "I don't run the department, and I wasn't part of this operation. It was Captain Bumbler's operation, start to finish." "Any leads on who the shooter was?" I probed. "We haven't got jack shit. Captain Bumbler didn't provide enough back-up, so we couldn't even get him after he took his shot. Good thing he missed, too. The guy playing Doctor Cutter wasn't even wearing a vest." I was shocked. Although the type of ballistic vest police usually wore wasn't going to stop a rifle bullet, at least it could slow it and limit the damage. "Are they going to repeat the operation, you think?" I asked. "I sure hope not," Brad answered. "This was a cluster-fuck. Bumbler would have to be a total asshole to repeat it." We sat very close to each other in the hot water, and Brad's thigh was against mine. The gentle contact was arousing, and I felt my prick swelling slowly. "Feel like getting out of the tub?" I asked, and Brad nodded and got to his feet. The hot water had relaxed us, particularly the skin around our groins, and our balls were hanging lower than usual. My foreskin, normally tight, had loosened so much that the orifice gaped, and the front dome of my helmet was visible through the gap. As we dried each other our pricks came to full attention.
In the bedroom I reached into the bedside drawer, extracting a battery powered vibrator the size and shape of a cigar. I showed it to Brad:
"Ever dock a vibrator?" I asked.
"No, I never did," he said. "Want me to?"
"That would be a new experience for you. Just lie down and let me handle it." He complied and I picked up his prick with my left hand, while slipping the blunt business end of the vibrator into his foreskin. I clicked it on, and felt the buzzing that I knew was also penetrating his foreskin. A slight push and the tip of the vibrator touched his slit, making his prick jump in my hand.
"Wow! That's a thrill!" he exclaimed.
"The vibrations go right into you, don't they?" I suggested.
"Boy do they!" he said. I pushed the vibrator in a bit more, sliding it over the broad upper surface of his glans. I felt his prick throb reflexively in my hand, evidence that the powerful sensations were hitting his deep-seated nerve endings. Through the distended opening of his foreskin, I saw his slit begin to seep clear fluid that spread to lubricate the delicate membranes. This let me work the vibrator around in glans, circling it to hit every nerve ending.
"This is going to make you come fast," I warned. "It's pretty intense and you won't be able to hold out long."
"I'm trying to stay relaxed but I can't," he moaned. I saw his body becoming tense. Now I pushed the vibrator deeper into his well lubricated foreskin, caressing the flaring ridge of his glans. His stomach muscles contracted, and when I moved the vibrator down to the underside of his tip he grunted.
"The vibrations are going right into your gee-string," I said. I know that pressing the buzzing tip into his hot spot would make him come within seconds, so I changed my technique. I pulled his foreskin all the way down to expose his helmet completely, and started playing the vibrator's tip over the surface at random.
"I can't hold out any more," he moaned as I worked the vibrator around his rim again, now descending into the groove behind it to hit the nerve endings that rarely saw daylight.
"I know, Brad," I said. "Your tip's really dark now, all swollen." The lips of his slit were gaping, and lubricant steadily flowed from between them. I worked the vibrator around his grove, hitting the back-face of his corona, filled with tiny buds of sensation.
"Brace yourself," I warned. "This is it." I brought the vibrator's blunt end down under his glans and pressed it into the triangular groove where his tightly-stretched gee-string waited, and watched as his legs began trembling.
"HUUUUUNNNNHH!" Brad howled in joyful agony as I felt a massive throb fill his prick. A thick rope of cream shot forcefully from his orifice, arcing into the air before landing on his stomach. I kept the vibrator pressed against his hot spot to bring forth another eruption of white lava that described a trajectory that ended on his abdomen. His body shuddered as successive spasms hit him, and he grunted helplessly with each ejaculation.
Brad's eyes were closed with the intensity of the sensations as the orgasm raged through his body, and his moans filled the air. His dark, throbbing tip shot again, and his entire body shuddered. Another throb filled his shaft, and I felt it in my encircling fingers as I watched another jet shoot from his turgid glans.
Now I removed the vibrator, concerned that it might over-stimulate his sensitive helmet, but held onto his shaft as several more throbs filled it and more cream seeped from his slit. The viscous fluid was a bit thinner now, more runny, as it flowed down his helmet and shaft and onto my encircling fingers. I watched the last drops ooze from his long slit as his body relaxed, and now I felt his hardness begin to soften between my fingers.
I knew it would take him a couple of minutes to recover, and I let his penis flop onto his stomach as it lost its tumescence. As his prick shrank I saw the foreskin slowly slide down the taper of his glans to engulf it once more, pulled by his taut gee-string. Finally, Brad spoke:
"Yow! That was really hot. Once you started that vibrator, I just couldn't hold back." He hugged me to him and I responded by giving him a dry kiss on his full, ripe lips. My prick was still aroused, and he reached between us and grasped it drawing my long thick foreskin back to lodge behind my high flaring rim.
"Here's the vibrator," I said as I handed it to him. I lay on my back, and he spread the towel over my abdomen.
"I'm going to work this right on your helmet," he said. I understood his reasoning, as I'd told him that my surgically reconstructed hood didn't have the nerve endings found in penile skin, and was relatively insensitive. I heard a faint buzzing as Brad flicked the switch, and a moment later felt the vibrations as he touched it to my tip. At first he pressed it lightly against my pouting orifice, but then began working it in small circles around the front dome of my glans.
"Man, your skin makes a really thick turtleneck around the rim," he commented as he tightened his grip on my shaft and dragged my bunched-up foreskin away from the corona. "Mine just fills the groove when I skin back, but yours makes a thick ring behind your rim." Now I felt the buzzing work its way around my corona, tickling all the little buds of sensation that studded my flaring rim. I felt my already hard prick engorging further as blood flowed into it, distending the helmet. Brad noticed this as well and commented on it:
"Your dick's very stiff and the head's gotten bigger. Now that I'm hitting your rim it's flaring out even more and turning darker." He continued the insistent buzzing that was sending messages of joy into my rim and down my shaft, heightening my arousal. I felt myself slipping away, my awareness of the world outside my body fading, as my consciousness became increasingly focused on the delicious sensations in my turgid prick. I knew that the vibrator was especially effective because it didn't just stimulate the nerve endings at the surface. I felt the buzzing penetrate into my helmet to hit the deep-seated nerve endings as well, pushing my excitement to new heights.
"I like skinning you back like this," Brad's voice penetrated into my consciousness. "I like to see the big head get bigger and darker. Your head's bigger than mine, and it really swells up when you're hot." As he spoke he maneuvered the vibrator's buzzing tip around my corona, into the deep groove behind it, and then across the broad upper surface of my helmet. I felt myself being driven relentlessly toward the brink, even though I was making every effort to remain relaxed. Now I felt a drop of lubricant being released into my urethra deep inside me, evidence of my arousal.
"You've got lube at the tip," he said as he moved the vibrator to touch my orifice, and then to spread the thick, viscous fluid in small circles around it. "You're really hot now."
"Ohhhh," I moaned as he pressed the vibrator harder against my turgid glans.
"Your tip's not spongy anymore," he commented as he pressed the vibrator in different spots on my helmet. "I can feel it's really hard now, hard and purple. Your balls are very tight too." My scrotum is normally tight against my body, but it had contracted enough for Brad to notice the evidence of my arousal. I felt another drop of lubricant begin to crawl up my tube, heading toward the orifice. My eyes closed, a sure precursor to orgasm.
"Just let yourself go," he urged as he worked the vibrator around my helmet and began pumping my foreskin in short strokes, stretching it back hard and then bringing it up to bump against my swollen rim. I knew then that I was in the final lap, and that he'd be pulling the orgasm from my tortured body wi thin seconds. Despite my best efforts, I felt the root of my prick begin to contract. My stomach muscles followed, and a few seconds later my outstretched legs began trembling.
"Now for the pay-off," Brad said. "I'm going to hit your hot spot." I felt the vibrator slide into the deep triangular groove under my glans, where my frenulum had been removed. Just below the surface of the skin there was a dense concentration of nerve endings and the vibrations penetrated deeply enough to make them sing. I felt a tickling sensation begin in the groove, spreading up both sides of my corona to encircle my helmet.
Hot sparks of sensation stabbed deeply into my helmet, changing the tickle to a hot tingle that filled my glans. A moment later, an electric feeling shot down my shaft and I cried out helplessly as I felt the root of my prick go into spasm. A hot torrent of cream shot into my urethra and burned its way up my prick to emerge at the tip of my helmet. I grunted loudly, helpless in the grip of massive erotic sensations, as the fury of my orgasm burned its way through me.
I yelped again as another powerful contraction swept through the root of my straining prick, sending another jet of burning lava up my urethra. My stomach and leg muscles were shuddering as the frenzy of the orgasm raged through my helpless body.
Another burning gush swept up my shaft, slamming through the lips of my orifice as I grunted again. Brad's fist gripped my shaft hard, relentlessly bumping the thick ring of foreskin against the rim of my straining helmet to drive my sensations. At the same time the buzzing filled the groove under my glans where the two sides of my corona meet in a weld line underneath. My nerve endings vibrated in synchronization with the vibrator, and my root contracted again to send another heavy discharge into my prick.
Brad stopped bumping my rim but kept the vibrator pressed hard into my hot spot, keeping my orgasm going as the force of my ejaculations diminished. I felt my prick-root contract several more times as I groaned and grunted, until the fluid had slowed to a mild seeping. My body began to relax, totally spent by the effort of the last half minute. Over the next couple of minutes my breathing returned to normal and the tension left my body. I realized that Brad had turned off the vibrator. As I swam back to full consciousness and opened my eyes Brad said:
"Man, you really shot a load this time. Normally you just dribble, but the first few jets you shot went right up into the air. I could feel your shaft throbbing in my fist each time you shot. It was almost like re-living my own orgasm." I knew what he meant. Making another man rise to orgasm was an intense vicarious experience. Each time I did it I was drawn in, almost feeling the sublime sensations that filled my partner's body.
"I think we both need a shower," I said as I lifted myself from the bed. Our exertions had left us both sweaty, and we also needed to rinse off the residues of our orgasms.
My foreskin was still bunched up behind my rim. Unlike Brad, I didn't have a frenulum to pull it forward when my erection subsided, and my corona flared enough to lock the foreskin in place behind it. The hot water felt good as it played over us. I felt it course down the front of my body and course over my naked helmet, inducing the urge to pee. I willingly let go, knowing that my urine would flush out all my residual cream.
Brad's tip was still covered, but when he saw me let go my yellow stream he pinched the end of his foreskin shut, and I saw his long hood begin to distend as it filled with urine. Just when it appeared ready to burst with the pressure, he let go and a thick yellow gush exploded from his foreskin pucker. He groaned in relief and said:
"I had a lot of cream inside my skin. Now it's cleaned out." He had retracted his hood as he spoke and the hot water flowed over his glans and inverted foreskin, rinsing them thoroughly. Our flows relented as we drained ourselves, and finally we were milking the last drops from our pricks and returning our hoods to the forward position. Once we'd dried each other Brad dressed and prepared to leave.
"I wonder how this story's going to play out," I speculated as we walked to the door.
"It could go any way at all," he replied." We could get more shootings, we could run into copycats, and all of the above. I don't even know for sure how many shooters we've got around the country."
"Plus one hit and run driver," I reminded him. "Ever get a line on that guy?"
"Not a clue," he answered. "He and his truck seem to have vanished into thin air."
Continued in Part 21