Exploring, Part 27 By Jackinnm@yahoo.com
Jim phoned me at work and told me that he had to meet with me, and introduce a colleague who had something very interesting to relate. That evening around six, I saw Jim's car pull into my driveway and I watched him step out, accompanied by another man who was slightly taller than he. Jim's companion had a large flat box in his hands. When they stepped in the odor told me that they had brought a pizza with them. I led them into the kitchen where Jim's colleague placed the box on the table.
"Hi, Jack, this is Doug," Jim said. I reached out and shook hands.
"Let's eat before it gets cold," I suggested. "We can talk while we're eating." We sat around the table and dug into the pizza hungrily.
"Doug's from our Washington Bureau," Jim began between mouthfuls. "He normally covers the beltway, but this time something strange came up and he mentioned it to me." Jim nodded toward Doug, who took up the story:
"None of this made the papers," he began. "A few weeks ago a doctor disappeared in Washington. At first it looked like just another missing person case, maybe someone sick and tired of his wife or something like that. Then I found out who he was. It was a certain Doctor Peeler, and what he did rang a bell. Jim had told me about these circumcision doctors getting popped around the country, and suddenly I saw the connection. Peeler was the Chairman of the Society for the Neutralization of Infant Prepuces, or SNIP. They lobby for universal male circumcision, and are pretty aggressive about it. They send speakers to medical schools and hospitals to try to promote policies requiring all baby boys to get circumcised before they leave the hospitals."
"They even sent someone to lobby the National Midwife Organization," added Jim.
"They tried, but weren't successful," Doug continued. "The midwives don't like this regimented baby-cutting, and they threw him out. Midwives are into natural childbirth with minimal medical intervention, and they don't support unnecessary surgery for mother or infant."
"Is there any reason to think Peeler was killed?" I asked.
"No direct evidence," replied Doug. "However, Jim told me about the shootings around the country."
"I explained to Doug that these killings were by people who used different weapons, and one even ran down a doctor with a pick-up truck. Either it's different people or one guy using different methods to cover his trail."
"The more incidents," I added, "the less likely it is that one person is doing them all."
"That's what I thought," Doug said. "This time, someone's done a Jimmy Hoffa on Dr. Peeler. Maybe in the next 40 years they'll find his body at the bottom of a mineshaft or in the foundation of a building," Doug laughed.
"As you can see," Jim said. "Doug isn't exactly broken up at the prospect. The doctor clipped him when he was born, and he's resented it ever since."
"I don't blame you for resenting your mutilation," I sympathized.
"Thanks, Jack," Doug said. "I've resented it ever since I found out that I didn't have all the equipment I was born with. My father wasn't cut, and I don't understand how he ever allowed my mother to consent to it."
"I felt the same way," I added.
"I know some guys say they don't mind having been clipped. I can understand that too," Doug said. "I know how painful it is to admit you've been uselessly mutilated. Some guys just can't face that fact."
"Denial," Jim chipped in.
"Well, resenting it won't do anything positive for me, so I don't brood about it," Doug said with a grin. "At least, I brood about it as little as I can."
"Yeah, you can't let yourself spend your life burning with resentment," I answered.
"Jim told me that you had plastic surgery to put back the foreskin," Doug commented. "He said he got himself a new foreskin without surgery, just by stretching the skin on his shaft."
"Right on both," I replied to his unstated question. "I guess it's show-and-tell time," I added. "Between Jim and me, we can tell you the pros and cons of each, so that you can decide for yourself what's best for you." Doug and Jim nodded, and I began undressing. They quickly followed. By this time we'd finished eating, and we moved our chairs away from the table so that our groins would be easily visible.
Doug's penis was small, smaller than Jim's limp, and I wondered how much it would grow with erection. I noted the jagged scar about half an inch behind his corona. He stared at Jim's prick and especially at mine as I began to explain what we'd done to restore our foreskins:
"You can see that the end of my prick's redder than the shaft skin. That's because the plastic surgeon used some skin from my scrotum to replace the outer layer of my foreskin, and he cut loose a section of my shaft skin to invert it over the glans for the inner lining. The scarring came from infection and a hematoma. He actually was a lousy surgeon. Jim's prick turned out much better looking because restoring involved no cutting. He did it all himself with tape, stretching the skin over the glans."
"Does the skin go back?" asked Doug.
"Mine does," Jim said. "Here, try it. It slides back pretty easily." Doug reached for Jim's prick, and seemed surprised at how easily the foreskin slid back off Jim's helmet.
"Now try mine," I said. "It's a little tighter than Jim's but still goes back." Doug's warm fingers closed around my prick, and I felt the pressure on my helmet as he pushed my foreskin back. Doug was becoming excited from handling our foreskins and I saw his prick beginning to swell. Jim's was already half-hard from Doug's having manipulated it.
"That's it, just keep going," I encouraged him as my foreskin stretched over my helmet. "Mine has a big glans and the skin has to stretch over it."
"Doesn't that hurt?" Doug asked, with a note of anxiety in his voice.
"No, not at all," I replied. "Just keep going." I saw that Doug's prick was now hard, standing at a full five inches, about the same size as Jim's erection. Now that the glans was swollen, I saw that it was as small as Jim's but different in shape. Instead of a helmet shape like mine and Jim's, Doug's glans was more like a mushroom, with a flat corona that lacked the distinctive upward sweep of the helmet type. His slit was tight and closed.
"There it goes," Doug said as my foreskin rode over my flaring corona and dropped into the deep groove behind it. His handling had made my prick swell, and it was almost hard. Now the three of us had our tips exposed and Doug looked at all three.
"Now Doug," Jim began to explain, "You notice that Jack's tip and mine are glossy and wet. That's from being constantly covered with foreskin."
"Yeah, Jim, mine is dry and the texture is sort of leathery," Doug replied. "I guess your tips are more sensitive than mine too."
"Yes they are, Doug," I said, answering his question. "The good news is that your glans will regain its sensitivity once you start keeping it covered with skin.
"However, the foreskin, with all its nerve endings, iis gone forever," Jim cautioned. "Sorry, but you'll never get that back."
"Jim and I manage to live with that," I contributed. `We both feel that half a loaf is better than none."
"Does the increased sensitivity really make sex feel better?" Doug asked, with a touch of envy in his voice.
"It really does, Doug," I answered. "For example, before my restoration my prick was so insensitive that I had to tighten my crotch muscles to get to orgasm."
"I know what you mean," Doug interrupted. "I have to do that too. I can't come unless I tighten up."
"Now I can relax and let the orgasm come to me, so to speak," I continued. "I don't have to sweat it. I know that a certain amount of friction will give me my orgasm."
"Doug," Jim chimed in. "Both Jack and I don't have to rub as hard, or press as hard, to get to orgasm. You know that some guys have to pound their meat to come. Jack and I just have to stroke lightly."
"That seems wonderful," Doug said. "I always had to pound my meat to come and I wish it weren't so difficult."
"We can demonstrate it for you," I suggested. "Jim and I can let you handle our pricks and stroke our foreskins so that you can see it takes less time and effort to come."
"I'm willing," added Jim. "You're welcome to handle mine. I'll even work your cock to make you come too."
"Would you do that?" Doug asked. "I'm more than willing." I got up and led the way into the bedroom, where we quickly stripped down. Both Doug and Jim had five-inch erections, while mine measured six without the foreskin added. I sat on the bed and Doug sat beside me, fingers eagerly wrapped around my hooded prick as he began stroking me gently.
"Man, your cock's nice and thick," he exclaimed as he worked my foreskin to cover and uncover the glans. "You've got a terrific helmet, too." I sighed with delight as Doug stroked me, while Jim squeezed some Astroglide from a plastic bottle onto Doug's bobbing prick. Jim spread the viscous lubricant thoroughly over the hard prick and began stroking it, twisting his fist around Doug's glans on the up-stroke.
"Here, I'll give you a couple of drops too," Jim said, squeezing some Astro onto the blunt dome of my helmet when Doug brought my foreskin down to bare it. "Jack doesn't have as much lube as most guys do, and he can always use a little more," he explained to Doug.
"It feels more comfortable lubed," I expounded. "Even when I'm limp having the foreskin lubed feels better for me. Now that you're stroking it, a little lube prevents friction burns." Doug's fingers were firmly grasping the skin of my prick, fist behind the head, and sweeping it up and down to deliver friction to my helmet. I quickly noticed that he was squeezing my prick more tightly than I usually did, and realized that he was accustomed to manipulating his circumcised penis, which was much less sensitive and required more pressure. However, his stroking felt good, and I realized that the only effect would be to bring on my orgasm more quickly than usual.
"That's nice," I sighed, and I felt my prick twitch as he gave it another powerful stroke, bringing the bunched foreskin up over the helmet and compressing my corona as he did so. I lay back on the bed, certain that I'd be releasing my sperm within a minute, and abandoned myself to the compelling sensations.
Doug wasn't even close to coming, as Jim's stroking was much lighter, and it would take minutes to bring his desensitized prick to the peak. Jim placed a towel on my stomach to catch the cream that he knew would soon be forthcoming. A tickling began in my flaring rim as Doug compressed and rubbed it with my sliding foreskin, and I knew that this was the beginning of the end. I relaxed consciously, but the tickling intensified, and began spreading all over the helmet because Doug was bringing my foreskin all the way up to touch the blunt dome, as well as drawing it down behind the rim.
The tickling became much stronger and I felt my awareness of my surroundings slipping away as my attention totally focused on the delicious sensations in my prick. Doug brought my foreskin all the way up and then squeezed my glans, producing a responsive throb in the root of my prick. My eyes closed, and I prepared myself for the explosion.
The tickle became almost unbearable, and then suddenly changed to a hot tingle that exploded in my helmet and traveled down my shaft to trigger the first spasm. I cried out helplessly as the first surge of hot cream shot into my tube and burned its way upward to pour out of my distended slit. Doug's hard grip on my prick quickly brought forth another convulsion deep inside me, and I tumbled into the mindless free-fall of orgasm. My prick throbbed as it shot another long rope of cream and I cried out again.
The heavy tingle in my tip became my entire world, punctuated by the hot spasms in the root of my prick, and I discharged another load of cream. Now my tip was becoming overly sensitive, and I moved my hand to stop Doug from his insistent stroking. I grasped his fist and held it tightly, while he continued to squeeze my prick. My last few discharges emptied me, and soon I was quiet and utterly still.
"You made Jack come pretty fast because you used the same pressure on his cock you use on yours," I heard Jim saying in the distance. "Use less pressure when you do me."
"Okay, I understand," Doug replied. "I can hardly feel your stroking, and I guess my cock's a lot less sensitive than yours and his."
"That's right," Jim confirmed. "Now do you want to do me or do you want me to finish you first?"
"I'll do you," Doug replied. "You just tell me how much pressure to apply when I stroke you." Jim let go of Doug's prick as I opened my eyes and then he lay flat on the bed next to me. I sat up to watch as I wiped my stomach and prick. The odor of chlorine hung heavily in the air.
"Thanks, Doug," I said as I cupped Jim's scrotum in my finger. Doug began stroking Jim's foreskin over the purple head. drawing it down behind the rim and then bringing it all the way up to encase the turgid glans.
"That's about right, but don't squeeze as much," Jim coached Dou g.
"You made me come pretty quickly," I added. "That's all right, but the longer it takes for the build-up, the more intense Jim's orgasm will be. Take long slow strokes and you'll do fine." Doug slowed his pace somewhat, and took long deliberate strokes, making sure the foreskin came back far enough behind the rim to expose the groove, and then bringing it up to enclose the glans and form a pucker at the end.
"That's fine," I coached. "You're making sure the front dome of his helmet gets stimulated, and you're stretching the nerve endings in the skin on the back-stroke." Jim began breathing more heavily, because Doug's measured strokes were having an effect, and I was gently kneading his balls to add to his arousal.
"Remember, stay relaxed," I told Jim.
"I'll try," he replied. "Doug's doing a great job on my cock, and after watching you lose your cream I'm so worked up I can't last long." As Doug drew Jim's foreskin all the way down I placed my other hand and stopped him.
"Look at Jim's helmet," I said. "It's gotten darker purple. That shows he's close. You can probably feel that it got harder even through the skin."
"Oh, I know," Doug confirmed. "His tip got harder just like yours did before you exploded. I felt that, all right." I let go of his hand and he resumed stroking Jim's hot excited prick. Natural lubricant oozed from Jim's slit, making his already glossy glans glisten more in the soft room light, and he breathing became heavier.
"Oooohhhh," Jim moaned, and I knew he was trying to relax despite the gentle but insistent stroking of his foreskin by Doug. I saw his stomach muscles tighten.
"Jim's balls are really tight," I pointed out to Doug. "He's close. Just go gently." Doug slowed his stroking slightly, drawing out the stimulation and prolonging the moments of anticipation for Jim. I knew the feeling, the sensation of being poised on the edge, eagerly awaiting the hot explosion that would blow you into orbit.
Jim's dark purple tip seemed angry as it strained with the sensation. Lubricant began leaking down over Doug[`s encircling fingers, and I knew that Jim's prick would begin spewing any second. His stomach muscles tightened, and now his outstretched legs began trembling as the sensations overtook him.
"Oh, Oh, Oh," Jim moaned as the sensations in his penis reached their peak, and I felt a throb where my fingertips touched the skin behind his scrotum. Now his jaw clenched and his eyes closed as his prick spewed a long rope of white cream onto his stomach and chest. I quickly placed a towel over him, just in time to catch the next copious discharge. Jim's hips bucked as he cried out in joyful agony, shooting a long hot stream onto the towel. The odor of his chlorine filled the air as he drained himself under Doug's massage of his foreskin. Jim's hips bucked hard and I told Doug to stop stroking, instead just holding his prick with the skin tightly back.
"Just keep the nerve endings in his skin stretched," I said. "That's enough to keep him going. Uncut guys get very over-sensitive in their tips when they come." I noticed that Doug's prick was still fully hard, and I knew he was drawing vicarious pleasure from stroking Jim and feeling the hard prick throbbing between his fingers. Doug's glazed eyes were fixed on Jim's spurting penis as the jets gradually eased and then changed to a steady ooze.
Jim lay there, drained, for a couple of minutes and then propped himself up on an elbow. I had wrapped my fingers around Doug's warm prick and began to squeeze the shaft and glans to keep him going. Now Jim sat up and pushed Doug flat, spreading some Astroglide on the naked tip and working it in with his fingers. I placed a towel on Doug's stomach, anticipating a tremendous discharge because he'd been excited the longest.
"How's that feel, Buddy?" Jim asked as he massaged the lubricant into Doug's glans and shaft. "That doing it for you?" I now cupped Doug's balls, feeling their thick covering tighten between my fingers.
"That's nice, but can you squeeze a little tighter around the head?" Jim, accustomed to stroking his more sensitive penis, wasn't using enough pressure to satisfy Doug's desensitized nerve endings, and he tightened his grip. I knew I would have made the same mistake with any circumcised penis.
Doug's well-lubricated prick glistened as we watched its head turn a darker purple, swollen with blood. His scrotum was contracted between my fingers, and now I saw a ripple in the towel as his stomach muscles tightened. His breathing became heavier.
"I think I ought to go faster," Jim suggested, and Doug nodded his head. Jim increased his pace and began twisting his fist around Doug's tip to enhance his sensations. Jim and I both knew that a rapid twisting motion around the corona was supremely exciting from our own experiences.
"His tip's really hard now," Jim declared. "I can feel it." Doug's legs began trembling and he stared fixedly at Jim's fist flying over his turgid prick. I saw his jaw muscles clench a moment before he grunted:
"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" Doug vocalized as a long stream of semen shot from his slit, landing on the towel. Doug threw his head back, totally captivated by the frenzy of his orgasm, as Jim's fist pumped his prick to bring forth another jet of hot cream that filled the air with its characteristic chlorine odor. Jim and I watched in satisfaction, enjoying Doug's orgasm as the straining prick poured out more juice.
"That's four jets now," I commented as Jim continued to work his fist around the hot, throbbing glans to draw out more fluid. I saw that the next jet wasn't as thick or powerful, and the following ones became dribbles as Doug exhausted himself. Jim kept up the stimulation, confident that Doug's circumcised glans would not become overly sensitive from the continued friction.
Now the dribbling had become an ooze, and Jim stopped stroking as we watched Doug's erection begin to collapse. Jim laid it tenderly on the towel as we watched Doug relax and we waited for him to emerge from his daze.
"That was nice. Thanks, guys," he said as soon as he'd recovered.
"We all enjoyed this," Jim said. I nodded agreement.
Continued in Part 28