Exploring, Part 8 By Jackinnm@yahoo.com
The four of us had gotten together for a hot sex session at my house that day, and Jerry and his son Eric had just had frenzied orgasms while docking. Tip to tip, they had bathed each other's glans with hot cream, and now were relaxing. Chris and I had come only minutes before, but we were both hard again from watching them. Although we were rock-hard, our foreskins still covered our tips.
"Hey, Chris, you've been making some real progress. Now your hood stays over the head when you're hard," I commented. Chris had been restoring his foreskin by stretching the existing shaft-skin, and now only the long lips of his slit were visible through the end of his new hood.
"Yeah, but I've still got a little way to go. Your skin covers the head completely with a pucker in front. I can't see your slit at all."
"We're both really hard, Chris. This scene got us hot again." We both saw that the outlines of our swollen tips were visible through the enveloping skin.
"Think you can come again?" he asked. "I know I can."
"Let's go into the spare bedroom," I suggested. "We'll let them relax here, and maybe they'll even go to sleep." I got up and led the way, my hard prick swinging as I walked.
"They really drained their nuts," Chris said as he followed me. Between the docking and the vibrator, they blasted their cream into Jerry's skin." Now that we were in the spare bedroom, I pulled Chris down into a "69" position on the bed.
"We've never done this together," I said as I inserted my tongue into the orifice of his foreskin, probing the long lips of his slit. He was only a second behind me as I felt him grasp my shaft to stabilize it as he insinuated his hot tongue under my hood, running it in small circles around my meatus. I'd hardly ever had oral sex, and this was profoundly exciting for me. I guessed it was very hot for Chris as well.
I had a very close-up look at his penis, with its straight shaft, purple mushroom head, and wide foreskin. His new foreskin was the same diameter as his shaft, so it didn't narrow to conform to the taper of his glans. Its looseness was why it produced a slapping sound when he whacked his prick. Mine did not. The plastic surgeon had shaped my skin graft to the shape of my blunt-nosed helmet.
The point of my tongue probed deeply into his slit and tasted the saltiness of his lube, plus the residue of the cream he'd ejaculated a half-hour earlier. I guessed that he was tasting my juice too. There was also a faint chlorine smell from his semen, mixing with the musky, sweaty smell of his balls.
Now I felt his tongue push deeper into my foreskin, caressing the broad upper surface of my glans as it traced the outline of my corona. The rough surface of his tongue tickled the nerve endings in my helmet. I pushed my tongue farther into his foreskin as well, feeling the glassy smoothness of his mushroom, which last year had been dry and leathery before he'd begun restoring his foreskin.
We were both enjoying the slow exploration of each other's pricks. As we'd released our loads of sperm very recently, there was none of the urgency that usually accompanies sexual excitement, and we were content to relish the slow sensations. I tried a few different methods to enhance his sensations.
First, I worked my tongue all around his thick corona, from top to bottom and back up the other side. Then I probed the deep groove behind the rim, as I knew there were also many nerve endings that welcomed the attention. I placed the tip of my tongue into the triangular groove under the glans, strumming his frenulum, his hot spot.
Now I grasped his prick firmly around the shaft and drew his foreskin back to expose the hard purple mushroom altogether. It glistened wetly in the bedroom's soft lighting, and I lapped its surface while squeezing the base of his shaft tightly to compress the veins. This retarded the flow of blood from the shaft and glans, and I felt the surface of his smooth mushroom harden against my tongue. I felt his release my prick and speak:
"Wow, Jack, that feels so good. It's really hot. Good thing I came not long ago or you'd have had my load already."
"Easy does it," I replied. "I want you to relax and enjoy it as long as you can. I like working on your prick."
"This is the first time I'm tasting your cock," he said. "I hope mine tastes as good to you as yours does to me."
"I love the taste and the smell."
"My cock feels so hard and swollen now that you're squeezing it," he continued.
"I want to get you up on the edge and keep you there as long as I can," I explained. "You're already leaking lots of lube." I licked at his slit, wiping away the large drop of clear viscous fluid that had parted the lips.
"Yeah, Jack, each time you lick the head I feel another drop coming out deep inside."
"Your lube tastes good, nice and salty," I said.
"Your hole's just a few inches if front of my eyes," he said as he pushed my foreskin halfway back. "It's a perfect teardrop now that your helmet's hard." He pressed the tip of his tongue into my meatus, giving me another hot thrill. I did the same to him, but as his slit's considerably longer than mine, my tongue went inside, caressing the interior. I felt him shudder before he said:
"Man! That was a thrill! You keep doing that and I won't be able to hold back." He pushed back on my foreskin and now his lips enveloped my swollen helmet. As his tongue worked over the top surface his lips caressed my rim. Chris twisted his head and I felt the delicious sideways friction as his lips slid around the back face of my flaring corona. A slight tickle deep inside told me that I too was secreting lube.
I already had his foreskin fully back and I wrapped my lips around his rim as I continued to tongue his long slit. His glans was already fully swollen as if orgasm was imminent, so it didn't engorge further. However, I felt slight throbs in his shaft as the root of his prick contracted. Chris began to moan as I kept probing his slit with my tongue, and I felt the vibrations in my glans. I stopped.
"I just want you to know that when you start coming, I'm going to swallow your cream," I told him. He removed his mouth from my prick and said:
"I was wondering about that. I'm going to swallow yours too. I've always wondered how your come would taste."
"We'll both find out, Chris," I replied before enveloping his turgid mushroom again. His mouth closed over my helmet but this time he worked his lips up and down on it. His hand stroked my tight foreskin forward as he pulled his mouth back, and then when he reversed direction he pulled my foreskin back as his lips advanced toward the rim. This double-action stroking was very exciting, and I knew he'd found the formula to pull the orgasm from me no matter how hard I tried to relax. I said:
"You're going to have my load if you keep that up. I just can't hold off for long. I'm going to stop so I don't accidentally bite you when I come." Chris kept working my prick in his determined way, and I felt the familiar ache build up in my glans as it swelled with even more blood.
My helmet was thrilling with the friction, and now I felt a tickle begin in my rim. As his lips continued to caress my helmet and his strong fingers kept sliding my foreskin in time with his mouth, the tickle spread all over my glans. Although I tried to remain relaxed, especially in my crotch, I felt my muscles tighten involuntarily. I felt Chris clasp my bunched scrotum with his strong fingers, not squeezing but just letting me know he was there. My eyes closed.
Hot sparks of sensation stabbed deeply into my helmet as Chris tightened his lips on its tender surface, triggering my first ejaculation. I moaned loudly as a hot torrent of cream shot out of my prick into his mouth. I felt his lips and tongue moving against my glans as he struggled to swallow the eruption.
My prick throbbed again and another burning jet coursed its way up my tube. Chris held my shaft tightly, keeping the skin back hard, putting tension on the nerve endings. My prick throbbed again between his fingers, and another gush poured into his mouth. I was helpless in his hands, trapped in mindless bliss, overwhelmed by the stunning sensations.
My next spasm was weaker and the following one weaker still. Chris had stopped moving his mouth on my aching, throbbing helmet, and now was just lapping up the residue that oozed from my meatus. I lay in my usual post-orgasm daze as the excessive sensitivity faded. Finally, his lips slipped from my glans and he eased my foreskin forward to envelop it.
"Jack, your helmet felt so hot in my mouth. It was throbbing hard against my tongue every time you shot." I was quickly recovering, and now took his penis in my mouth again to pay him back for the magnificent orgasm he'd given me. I began doing the same thing he had to me, pressing my lips up over his swollen mushroom as I pulled the foreskin back to expose it, and then sliding my lips down off his glans while pulling his foreskin forward to recover it. He moaned loudly and then said:
"I'm so worked up from feeling you come that I just can't hold back anymore." His balls were tight against his body and the sweat from them filled my nostrils. I gave his foreskin a hard downward yank to stretch his nerve endings, and quickly rotated my lips around his corona, caressing the buds of sensation in his rim. He yelped loudly, surprised by the sudden sensation, and then I felt his hot hard mushroom throb against my tongue and palate.
His first salty load flooded my mouth and I swallowed frantically as I rotated my lips around his corona again. His frenzied grunts filled the room as another torrent of hot, salty cream erupted from his tip, parting the lips of his slit. Now I probed between the gaping lips as I rotated my mouth around his mushroom again to give him more of the delicious sideways friction that had triggered his orgasm.
I smelled the chlorine from his ejaculation as I swallowed it, and then he bucked his hips, thrusting his hot, throbbing prick deeper into my mouth, the blunt nose hitting the back of my throat, as he unloaded another gush of semen. His next spurt was weaker, and I stopped moving my mouth on his mushroom, although I held on to his rigid shaft, maintaining the tension on the skin to keep its nerve endings stretched.
Chris gradually relaxed as the prick-throbs faded like mist in the morning sun. His rapid breathing slowed and now he became utterly still. I ran my finger up the underside of his shaft to push out the residue, which I licked off as it seeped through the lips of his long slit. As his prick softened I gently pulled his foreskin toward me to cover the precious head.
"You really drained me," he finally said.
"Just like you drained me," I replied.
"That was so intimate, feeling your cock shooting into my mouth," he continued.
"It was intimate for me, too," I said. "I really enjoyed running my lips over the contours of your tips, pushing my tongue into your slit..." I trailed off. I got up to check on Jerry and Eric in the main bedroom, and found them asleep in each other's arms. I let them sleep and returned to report the news to Chris.
"Since they're sleeping, let's you and me spend the night here. This bed's comfortable too."
The following Wednesday we met for lunch in the office of Jerry's construction company. He sent his secretary out to get us sandwiches and then told her to take a two-hour lunch herself. That left us undisturbed as we dragged chairs up to surround Jerry's desk where our sandwiches and drinks were arrayed.
"Well, what did you find out?" Jerry asked me, giving voice to what was on everyone's mind. I had checked into the status of the shooting, and had found out a lot.
"First, I had a talk with Detective Robinson, who's in charge of the case here. He said they haven't any idea regarding who shot the doc, and don't even have a possible motive. I had to keep my questions general, because I didn't want to suggest any avenues of investigation to him. I never mentioned circumcision, for example, and never asked about any possible connection to similar cases around the country."
"I really hope nobody makes any connection," Chris said. "If even one cop thinks that two or more of the doctor shootings might have a common variable, then that could start an avalanche."
"The shit would really hit the fan then," Jerry said.
"I don't think there's any danger of that," I contributed. "Anyway, little danger. In every case, it could be someone the doctor personally circumcised, or it might be someone he never clipped or even met but who just doesn't like the way the doctor's promoting mutilation. It's too tenuous unless one of the shooters makes a mistake."
"You said `shooters,' plural," Eric said. "How can you be sure it's not one guy traveling around the country?" Chris answered him:
"We can be absolutely sure it's more than one guy, Eric. First, we know you beat up that first doctor here in town. Second, we doubt very much that you've been doing any traveling lately. Third, you don't even own one gun, much less several. Finally, you were with us when that last doctor got shot, so we're sure it was someone else."
"The different styles of attacks, the different calibers, point to individual shooters," I said. "Different shooters imply different motivations. Even if we take the worst-case assumption, that some investigator makes a connection with circumcision, he can only go so far."%0 D
"I see what you mean," Jerry interjected. "If some cop connects one shooter to one shooting, that doesn't mean he can connect them all. If one makes a mistake, he can only screw himself."
"Yeah," Chris said. "Even if one shooter was motivated by what this particular doctor did to him, and he goes stupid and writes threatening letters to the doc, and the cops find them, then that would only establish a personal connection to that one shooter. If another shooter shot a doctor because the guy was promoting circumcision, or trying to set a world's record for circumcisions, there wouldn't be a personal connection." I added:
"Even if the cops operated on the assumption that the shooter must have been someone the doctor circumcised years ago, think of all the people they'd have to follow up on and check out to try to narrow it down to who did it. Trying to trace every boy circumcised by that doctor would run them all over the country, since a lot of people move during their lifetimes, some die, and others simply can't be found. Then, if their efforts were successful, they'd still have only one suspect, and they'd have to start from scratch on all the other incidents."
"I think sooner or later some cop's going to make a connection," Chris said. "I don't know how long this string of shootings is going to go on, but the longer it does, the more the cops have to work with."
"It might even be a cop doing one or more of the shootings," I suggested. "Just think about it. A lot of cops got circumcised when they were kids. Maybe one or more resents it enough to do something drastic about it. If so, he'd have the knowledge of how to do it without drawing attention to himself."
"That's an interesting suggestion," Jerry said. "I don't think all of the shooters could be cops, but maybe one or two are."
"Well, we're going to have to wait and see what else develops," Chris said, summing up what we all felt.
"Meanwhile, Eric, you stick close to home," Jerry said. "I want you to have alibis in case of more shootings, so play it safe."
"Also," I interjected, "don't talk about any of this to anyone. I mean, don't ever admit to anyone that you resent it that the doctor clipped you. That could only draw attention to you if ever the cops make that connection."
"I think Eric's safe now," said Chris. "The big story is that doctors have been shot. Eric only maimed the doctor who butchered him, and that's awhile ago, so it's not likely to get much attention now."
"I'll go along with that," I agreed. "If Eric just keeps a low profile, he won't attract attention."
"The bitch is that some bright newspaper guy might make the connection," Chris said. "Newspaper people are brighter than the cops, and their jurisdiction, if you can call it that, is the whole country or the whole world, not just one city or county."
"That's right," I agreed. "That's been at the back of my mind too. I've been checking the wire services each morning and I've been on the Internet to see if anything like that's been happening."
"Well, my secretary might be back any moment now," Jerry said, bringing the meeting to a close.
"I'm going to be working every day for a couple of weeks right now," I added. "The editor's got me working on why the mayor's planning to add landscaping to our freeway shoulders when he's at the same time urging people to conserve scarce water. I'll let you guy know when I can host our next meeting." With that, we broke up and left.
Continued in Part 9