Note: This story is fiction, and given the plot, mainly science fiction or imaginative fiction. Time travel would be very nice if it were possible to do it as easily as described here, especially considering the benefits that this story describes.
Synopsis: After being recruited for a secret time travel project operated by the government, I was projected into the 23rd. Century, leaving my friend and partner behind. To my surprise, people still spoke English but the police picked me up because I had a pistol in my backpack. After they determined I'm not a criminal or terrorist, one of the investigators, Mike Stanmore, took me home to meet his partner. They were as fascinated by my circumcised penis as I was by their intact ones. I then learned that 23rd Century medical techniques were able provide me with a clone of my original foreskin. Anticipating that my partner John might soon be following me, we awaited his arrival.
It took several days for John to show up, during which I underwent grafting of my newly cloned foreskin. The surgery was painless and quick-healing, and when John arrived he was surprised and gratified to see the new me. It didn't take long for him to decide to remain in the 23rd Century, and Mike Stanmore invited him to the home he shared with Steve Shapiro, his partner. This led to a very revealing session of mutual exploration and hot sex, after which John asked about having a foreskin cloned onto his penis.
John and I introduced Mike and Steve to Princeton, which provided very hot orgasms for us. We discussed the prospect of another time traveler following us, and the police decided to set up remote surveillance on the street where John and I had first appeared, as well as other possible points of entry.
Meanwhile, we took John to see Dr. Simmons, who took the preliminary steps to clone a new foreskin for John, asking him if he wanted a long or short foreskin, and whether he preferred it loose or tight. A couple of days later, we went with John to the hospital, where the doctor attached his new hood. The surgery went quickly and easily, and John was very happy with the result, although he knew that he wouldn't be able to use his new penis for anything but urinating for a couple of days until it fully healed.
Two days later, John felt he was ready to explore the new sensations of his remodeled penis, although he'd taken off the bandage the day before. That evening, at Mike and Steve's home, we watched what John called his "grand unveiling." We'd all stripped down when we'd arrived, and John sat on a kitchen chair with his equipment proudly on display. It looked a lot like Mike's prick because both had mushroom shaped heads. Steve and I had helmet shaped heads, and long nippled foreskins. Mike's foreskin was shorter than John's, because before the surgery John had expressed his preference for a long nipple like mine.
Now John lifted his penis for all to see with his left hand, while delicately easing back his long foreskin with two fingers of his right hand. The handling caused his penis to start to swell. I also knew that anticipation was fueling his fire.
"Look at that," John exclaimed. "My skin's stretching back over the head!" He'd pulled back enough so that most of the nipple was not stretched by the glans, leaving only the puckered end in front.
"Does that sliding action feel good," I asked.
"Both the sliding and the stretching action, Jack," he replied. "Now I now what you meant the other day. I can feel all those nerve endings in my foreskin stretching when I pull it back over the head. I never felt anything like it before." He continued to exert traction and now the pucker had stretched to a dime-sized opening that revealed his slit.
"Just let go for a minute," I counseled. "Wait until your prick's full hard before you continue stretching. The bigger the head is the more it's gonna stretch the skin." John released his foreskin as his penis continued to engorge, and we watched it lengthen to its six-plus length, as it thickened proportionately.
"Can I retract it for you?" I suggested. "I think it'll be hotter if my fingers are on it." He nodded and I reached for his prick, clasping it lightly around the swollen foreskin-covered mushroom.
"Ooooh, your fingers are making it tingle," John squealed. "That's really nice." I felt his glans harden further through the enveloping skin, and I gave it a gentle squeeze to add to his sensations. His prick throbbed in response.
"Now I'm going to ease it back gently," I said as I began traction on his fleshy sleeve, all of us watching avidly as the orifice dilated to a dime-sized opening for the second time. I pulled back a little more and the forward edge of his foreskin was now the size of a quarter.
"I know what you mean now," John said. "That's so hot, feeling you stretch my foreskin. All those nerve endings are just tingling." I eased his foreskin forward slightly and then pulled back a little more, so that the entire blunt front dome of his glans was exposed to our gaze. A drop of clear fluid appeared to part the lips of his long slit.
"I'm going to pull your foreskin forward to pick up that lube," I explained as I moved my fingers forward on his prick until the end puckered again. Now I worked his foreskin back in slight jerks, feeling it slide smoothly with the added lubrication. John shuddered as I did this, and I knew he was very aroused. So were Mike and Steve, because they were working their foreskins as they watched.
"You might make him come," suggested Steve, who had worked his beautiful prick to full erection and was drawing back his hood to bare the helmet.
"That would be nice," added Mike. "His first come with a foreskin." He'd bent slightly to grasp my swelling prick with his other hand, adding to my excitement.
"That would be a perfect initiation to the foreskin fraternity," I said. "Just think of it, John, you're having your new foreskin retracted, and you're surrounded by guys with foreskins. We're all getting turned on by this."
"Oooooh, don't stop," John begged, totally caught up in the spirit of the ritual. We watched as I pulled his foreskin back farther, stretching it to its limit over the high ridge, and then it snapped down into the groove behind the head.
"His foreskin's tight like yours and mine," commented Steve.
"Yeah, it's like a tourniquet behind his rim," added Mike.
"It's making his head swell even more," observed Steve.
"I can feel how hard it is," I said. "He's close to the edge and I'm not even pumping him." I stretched John's foreskin back even more, baring the deep groove behind the head and putting tension on his already taut gee-string.
"The glans is dipping," said Steve. We saw the front of John's bulky mushroom dip down towards his feet as I kept up the tension on his gee-string, stretching its nerve endings and heightening his sensations.
"Now he's really dripping lube," said Mike.
"The surface is really glossy," added Steve.
"I'm gonna bring the foreskin forward to get some of that lube," I explained as I swept John's hood forward to cover his glans completely, feeling it bump over the ridge before sliding down the taper of his glans. Now I had his foreskin fully forward, forming a pucker beyond the end, and I started pulling back again, feeling it sliding smoothly with the heavy film of clear lubricant coating his glans.
"His legs are trembling," Steve said. John's legs were trembling heavily, more evidence of his arousal.
"Now I'll pull it all the way back again," I said as I exerted more traction on the fleshy sleeve, until it rode smoothly over the rim and dropped into the groove again. I felt John's prick throb hard between my fingers as I pulled back harder to make the head dip, and heard John's anguished cry as the orgasm rolled over him.
A thick white rope of cream erupted from his long slit, shooting several feet to land on Steve's leg. John's eyes were closed and he grunted hard as another wave of sensation swept over him to bring forth another stream of life-juice. I kept the tension on his foreskin and frenulum, knowing that this would make him shoot again. I felt his prick throb again as he expelled another torrent of sperm and cried out helplessly at the intensity of the sensations.
"He's really into it," Mike said as his fingers tightened on my prick. Between Mike's touch and the excitement of watching and feeling John's orgasm, I went over the edge. My entire body tightened up as the first shudder of orgasm broke over me like a wave. I felt the hot juice rushing up my tube and saw it splatter on John's stomach as his prick throbbed again between my fingers. I held on to his shoulder for support as my knees buckled, and we both cried out in the joy of mutual release.
Mike's fingers were pumping my foreskin hard, whipping it over my engorged glans and sending me into ecstasy as John's prick shot its last drops and settled into a steady dribbling. I discharged more sperm onto John's stomach until I, too, was drained. I sank to my knees and hugged him.
It didn't take long for us to recover from the daze, and John reached for Steve's long-foreskinned prick, peeling the hood back from the helmet and bringing it to his lips. He engulfed Steve's hard prick and began sucking avidly to bring on Steve's climax. Steve howled as the rush of sensations overwhelmed his, and he held on to both of us as he shuddered and creamed into John's mouth. John was working his Adam's apple furiously to keep up with Steve's discharges, and Mike had let go of my prick and was now helping to keep Steve from collapsing as his knees buckled.
After Steve had stopped shooting and sunk to the floor in a daze, I knelt in front of Mike, taking his rampant erection into my mouth. My lips pushed back his foreskin so that I could lap around the big head, working my tongue into the wide triangular groove underneath and then around his high rim. Mike shuddered, ready to release his sperm because of the vicarious excitement of having watched the three of us unloading, and in a second I felt his swollen, hardened glans throbbing on my tongue. My mouth filled with his salty fluid, and I smelled the heavy chlorine odor of his discharge.
Mike's prick throbbed in my mouth as his cries filled the room. He was helplessly discharging his sperm, hips bucking as he thrust mindlessly toward the back of my throat. I struggled to swallow his fluid, barely keeping up with the volume, until he too was spent.
We sat on the floor, totally drained, totally satisfied. After a few minutes Steve arose and began preparing dinner for us all. Meanwhile, John, Mike, and I wiped our pools of cream off the kitchen floor. After dinner we sat around in the living room until we felt sleepy and went to bed.
The following morning we left for work. Mike, John, and I reported to the surveillance room and watched the screens until Mike sat up sharply and exclaimed:
"We've been overlooking something! We don't know who they might be sending, but chances are that he or she is going to be carrying a back-pack like those you two brought. You had a Nike, Jack, and John was carrying an Addidas. They just don't make those brands anymore, and if we look for them, or any other brands from your time, they'll stand out enough for us to spot them."
John and I looked at Mike, and then at each other, wondering how we could have overlooked such an obvious clue. Then John's eyebrows lifted and he exclaimed:
"Hey, there's another thing we overlooked. Cha nces are that anyone coming from our time would be using after-shave or cologne if he's male. A woman would use perfume."
I realized that he was right. In our time, we'd been so indoctrinated by advertisements that the human body smelled awful, and that any perspiration was dirty, that we'd used underarm deodorants, lotions, and perfumes of various sorts to mask our natural odors. Subliminally, I'd been aware that nobody now seemed to use them, but this fact hadn't fully registered in my consciousness.
"Right!" said Mike. "I'll get the word out to all officers and security guards to watch for anyone using perfume of any sort. So few people today use perfume that we'll have a good chance of scoring a hit if we scrutinize someone who smells like a rose." He got up and left for the communications room.
With the new guidelines, it took only until the following day until there was an alert. At about mid-day, an officer posted at the magnetic rail station called in to say that a man had just gotten off the Dayliner from Chicago smelling like a florist shop.
"Dayliner?" What's that?" I asked.
"A high-speed short train," Mike filled us in. "It goes at about 300 miles per hour. You get on in Chicago at eight and you're here by noon."
"They run every hour," added Wallace, who had come running when he'd heard the news.
"Two of our people are on him now," said Mike.
"They'd better be careful," I said. "We don't know who or what he is. He's probably armed."
"We'll handle it," said Wallace. "Just watch what happens." There was a surveillance camera at the station, but it was too far from the action to provide a clear view as we saw two figures converge on a third, speak a few words, and escort him into a room at the side. 20 minutes later two uniformed officers walked into the room with Dr. Ellis between them.
"No problem, sir," one of them reported to Wallace. "He had a backpack, and two antique pistols inside, and something else we think is some sort of primitive stun gun, but we've got them now."
"Did he have anything else on him?" asked Mike.
"Just this funny looking thing," said one of the officers, holding out one of the remotes.
"Get that right out of here and into a basement locker," Wallace ordered. "Do it right now, or we might be missing a guest soon." The officer left on the double, and we looked at Ellis.
"We told him that we'd been sent to take him to you," said the remaining officer, and then we walked him through a metal detector. That's how we found what we did. He didn't offer any resistance or even argue with us."
"Nice to see you two," Ellis said, smiling. "We were wondering what had happened to you, especially since our two remotes came back to us without you when we activated them." John and I had gotten up from our chairs as he'd spoken. Mike nodded at me and I said:
"We're gonna give it to you straight, Ellis. We're not going back. That's it. After you hear what we've got to say, and see for yourself what it's like here, you won't want to either."
"I thought it might be something like this," Ellis replied. "Some of the people thought you might have been caught by unfriendly creatures and dissected, or something like that. Now that I'm here, you might as well tell me the whole story."
"First, I'd like to introduce you to these people, Ellis. They're our friends and you ought to get to know them." I presented Mike and Wallace, and they shook hands with Ellis. The uniformed officer, whose name was Parker, excused himself, as he was no longer needed.
We all sat down and began explaining the 23rd Century to Ellis, who took it all in with equanimity, as well as a sense of wonder. He seemed particularly attentive when we told him of the changes in the culture, and that it was truly not a stigma to be gay.
"I think I can be comfortable with that," he said. "I've always felt like an outsider back then, and since I'm an atheist I'm glad that religion no longer is a dominating force in people's lives."
Wallace, who had stepped out during part of the discussion, returned and said:
"We've got something a little different lined up for this evening," he began. "I know you two have been staying with Mike and his buddy Steve, but I've booked a suite at the hotel a couple of streets over. Mike, you call Steve at work and tell him to meet you there. You'll have more room than at your place, and all the amenities. The suite has its own kitchen and even a big hot tub. Now since it's almost five, you'd better think about walking over there. We can take care of the formalities in the morning."
Mike got on his personal communicator and located Steve, telling him of the change in plans for that evening. As we came out onto the street, he said to Ellis:
"I think walking is a good idea. The hotel's not far, and you'll get a more complete idea of what life is like here by seeing the people on the street." Silent vehicles went by as he spoke, and Ellis was studying them carefully, as well as looking at the people who shared the sidewalk with us. Ellis was dressed in a robe, and seemed slightly surprised to see many others al wearing robes.
When we arrived Mike bypassed the main entrance and its security checkpoint, flashing his credentials at the security guard, and asked one of the staff about the suite. They conferred for a couple of minutes and then the staffer pointed toward the back wall of the lobby. We took a remarkably conventional looking elevator to the lower level where our suite was located, and Mike let us in with his card. The door locks had been programmed so that any of us could use his card to open the door. Ellis did not yet have a card, but he'd be with us all the time, so this didn't pose a problem.
"I've got dinner ordered, but we'll have an hour or so before it's delivered," Mike said. "We can relax in the hot tub for a while."
"You might as well get your clothes off," I said to Ellis as we headed for the back room with the hot tub. "I think a lot of people go nudie indoors here." I began shedding my jumpsuit as an example. At that moment, Steve joined us, and I introduced him to Ellis.
"What's your first name, anyway?" I asked Ellis. "I don't remember you telling me when we first met."
"Douglas," he replied. "Call me Doug." We stood around the hot tub as we disrobed, putting our clothes on the benches that lined the walls. I noticed Doug eying us carefully, scanning everyone's crotch. He crept closer to me and said in a low voice:
"What's going on? None of you are circumcised. I don't know about those two but I know for sure that you and John are circumcised because I looked at your medical records."
"I was saving the best part for last, Doug. Yes, John and I were still circumcised when we got here. Today, practically nobody gets his tip cut off. They consider it barbaric."
"I always thought so too, but didn't make a fuss about it because there was nothing I could do about it. As you can see, they did it to me when I was a baby too." I'd noticed that when he'd removed his clothing, but had waited for him to bring up the topic.
"Well, now you can do something about it. Today they can clone you a new foreskin. It's really yours because they get your DNA from some cells they scrape off the inside of your cheek."
"Is that what happened to you and John?" he asked.
"Exactly, Doug. You can have a new foreskin cloned too from cells they scrape from the inside of your mouth. That means it really will be your own foreskin, not a skin graft."
"That's really appealing," Doug said. "I wonder what kind of foreskin I'll get. Mine was cut off when I was born, so I don't know if it was long, short, thick, or thin."
"You can get the kind you want, within limits," I answered. "When the doctor cloned mine, he said I'd get what my genes determined, but that he could adjust it somewhat."
"Well, I'd prefer a longer foreskin, like the ones you and Steve have," he said. Those long nipples on your skins really turn me on." With these words he reached down to give my nipple a pleasant tweak, which made my prick begin to respond immediately. Steve, who was still standing close to us, was watching us avidly, while the others looked on as they slipped into the large hot tub. I put an arm around Doug's shoulder and led him to the tub while he still held on to my foreskin nipple.
"Glad to have you here with us," said Mike as the water bubbled around us. "Just lie back and relax, and try to make yourself at home. I know it's a shock adapting to the world 200 years ahead, but these guys did it and they'll help you."
"Oh, you've all been very helpful already," Doug said. He had a dreamy look on his face because under the bubbling water I was squeezing the head of his prick rhythmically, exciting him as he was exciting me. Mike and Steve were sitting next to each other and probably doing something similar under the water, judging from their positions.
"Man, I really like feeling your skin slide over that big head," Doug murmured as his fingers slipped my hood up and down the flared contours of my helmet. My fingertips explored his, and I was gratified to discover that his glans was also the helmet type. His shaft was straight like mine, and overall his prick felt as if it was between 6" and 6 ½" long.
"You'll soon have your own foreskin to slide over that beautiful helmet," I assured him. I went on to explain the process of growing a cloned foreskin and the brief and painless surgery to attach it to the penis. "You'll end up with practically no scarring and the recovery takes only about 48 hours," I concluded. At this moment a chime sounded and Mike announced that our dinners had arrived.
We got out of the hot tub, erections standing out proudly, and dried ourselves before trooping into the dining room. Plates of what looked like shrimp scampi were at every place setting, and we sat down to eat. There was a glass of white wine for each of us, and Mike said:
"I ordered a light meal because I guessed that we wouldn't want something heavy on our stomachs during the rest of the evening." I understood what he implied; that we'd be having sex later, and that it would be more comfortable with only a modest amount of food in our stomachs.
"This is delicious," Doug said. "In my time practically all the shrimp were frozen, and that took something from the taste."
"This hotel has its own shrimp farm in one of the sub-basements," Mike explained. "It's all fresh shrimp, and that's the specialty of the house. That's another reason for my selection. We're not eating heavily, but we're eating very well."
There was no dessert, only coffee, and after we'd finished that we went into the living room, relaxed and satisfied. John sat on one couch with Mike and I saw them playing with each other's foreskins. Their erections, which had subsided during the meal, had returned with renewed vigor. Doug's hand dropped to my crotch, where his nimble fingers returned to manipulating my long foreskin, but his eyes were on the pair opposite us. I squeezed his shapely helmet, bringing it back to full hardness.
Doug was now working my foreskin in long and sensual strokes, covering and uncovering my helmet fully with each cycle, and his eyes dropped to watch my large purple glans appear and disappear with each stroke. I clamped my left hand around the base of his shaft to compress the veins and make them stand out as his prick filled fully with blood. His helmet felt harder under my fingers and a drop of cock-dew had appeared between the lips of his long slit.
I stopped squeezing his glans and began spreading the clear lubricant in small circles around his slit while pulling back hard on his shaft skin to stretch its nerve endings. Doug sighed with pleasure as he felt the direct stimulation on his nerve endings, and I saw the color of his glans darken to a deeper purple, as mine was doing.
"I'd better get us towels," Steve said as he got up. He returned from the bathroom with four towels, leaving two of them with Doug and me. He then returned to the couch, where he got into a "69" position with Mike, each sucking avidly on each other's pricks. I spread a towel on my lap and another on Doug's, and heard him say:
"I think you're gonna come first. You uncut guys are always more sensitive." His fist pumped my foreskin faster, and I felt the sap rising quickly.
"My head's getting all tingly," I whispered as his fingers worked their magic on my foreskin and helmet. A drop of lubricant began crawling up my tube, giving me a pleasant internal tickle as it crept toward my helmet.
"I like the way your slit pouts, like a teardrop," Doug said as he steadily pumped me up toward my release point. "Your balls are really tight." So were his, I noted, as my fingertips coaxed another drop of lubricant from his slit. The tension was building in my prick, and my glans ached for release. As my legs began to tremble he said:
"Stop doing me for a moment. I think you're ready to come right now." He was right, and my eyes closed as my excitement approached its peak. I let go of his penis, knowing that for him, watching me ejaculate as he massaged my throbbing prick would unfailingly maintain his excitement.
MY engorged helmet tingled with excitement as Doug kept up the delicious friction of my foreskin in long fast strokes, and I gasped at the tingly feeling exploded, triggering the heavy pounding of my orgasm deep inside me. My entire body heaved as the first hot and burning jet coursed its way up my shaft like a torrent of hot lava and exploded out of my tip.
My prick throbbed again as I cried out helplessly, sending another jet into the air. I was now in the free-fall of orgasm, unaware of anything outside my body, as the intense tingle of my orgasm flowed through me. Another intense spasm, gripped my cock-root and squirted another thick jet of cream into my tube.
More spasms followed, becoming weaker with each one, until I was drained and inert, fully satisfied and dazed by the after-shock of orgasm. I don't know how long I slumped with my eyes closed, but I became aware of something wet on my cheeks. I opened my eyes to see Steve and Mike standing next to me, with their wet swollen tips brushing my cheeks. Steve was on my left and bent over to caress Doug's prick, which was now dripping steadily. John was off by himself on a chair, having been unable to resist stroking himself to orgasm while watching the spectacle.
"You really exploded," Mike said. "We just had to come over and join in." Now they pulled away and Steve lay down on the other couch while Mike crouched next to his groin, almost inhaling his hot hard prick in his fervor.
"Mike wants me to come first," Steve grunted as his body absorbed the sensations. His balls were drawn up tightly as his excitement approached its zenith, and we saw his eyes close as his moans became louder. We heard Steve cry out as his hips bucked, and we knew he was on his way.
"I think Mike just scraped his teeth of Steve's helmet," I murmured to Doug, who sat beside me with his dripping prick pointing straight up from his lap. I grasped his shaft at the base with my left hand, squeezing hard as I pulled back on the skin, and I used the fingertips of my right hand to work on his dark swollen helmet as Steve's body continued to struggle in orgasm.
"My tip's not all that sensitive," Doug said. "What you're doin' feels great but it's gonna take me a long time to come."
"You'll be better after you get your new foreskin," I reassured him. "Your glans will be more sensitive and you'll have all those nerve endings in your foreskin to give your thrills you never felt before." As I spoke, we watched Steve hurtle through the rest of his orgasm, grunting heavily, and we saw Mike's Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed Steve's heavy discharges.
"Looks like Steve shoots a lot," Doug commented to me."
"Oh yes he does," I answered. "I've seen him shoot, and I've stroked his prick until it was throbbing in my hand," Now Steve was very still, and Mike removed his mouth, gently sliding Steve's long hood up to cover the softening helmet. He wiped to outside of Steve's prick with a towel, and then lay down beside him, hugging him as Steve recovered from his climax.
"Damn! I'm so hot!" Doug said. "Making you shoot and now watching those guys is really inspiring." I enclosed his hot hard helmet with my fingers and began a twisting action over the heavily lubricated surface. Doug's glans had attained its final hardness and was no longer leathery, having turned very smooth and wet. I heard his breathing deepen.
"Just hold on, Doug. I think you're ready." Doug didn't reply, instead staring fixedly into space as the sensations began to build up in his body. A steady trickle of lube trickled from his slit, making his helmet very slippery, and I squeezed and twisted harder, feeling him respond with a series of grunts. His jaw dropped as he began breathing through his mouth, and I knew that his consciousness was dimming as his orgasm approached.
I gave his shaft-skin a sharp yank as I twisted my fist over the swollen head, and Doug yelped as his prick throbbed between my fingers. A long thick rope of cream jetted upward from his tip to land on his stomach. I felt his hard prick throb again as he grunted and a second torrent of hot cream shot upward, parting the lips of his long slit.
Doug grunted again as another torrent gushed from between the long lips of his slit, pouring all over his helmet and my trembling encircling fingers. His body shuddered with each jet, and his eyes rolled backward in their sockets. The next gush was weaker, although still substantial, and the next merely seeped, flowing down the contours of his helmet and between my fingers. Finally, he was still, gasping for oxygen, as he sank into a daze.
As I wiped his shrinking prick with a towel I felt a sensation of tenderness in my glans, and I realized that my foreskin was still all the way back, allowing my helmet to rub against the towel in my lap. I reached down to slip it forward and then resumed wiping Doug's copious cream from his stomach and pubic area.
As I finished wiping Doug's prick, Steve began working on Mike's hardness. Now he was fully recovered, and his lips pumped up and down on Mike's glans and thick collar of retracted foreskin. Mike had remained very aroused watching me bring Doug to orgasm, and now that Steve was holding his foreskin tightly back to stretch its nerve endings and put tension on the bow-string under the glans, he was ready to pop.
Doug and I watched intently as the tension built in Mike's supine body. Steve's head was bobbing up and down, his lips tightly wrapped around the swollen glans, and we saw Mike's fists clench as he threw his head back. Mike's breathing was labored as he was caught in the drip of mind-numbing sensations, and now his eyes closed.
We heard Mike cry out as his hips bucked and Steve's Adam's Apple bobbed to swallow the first stream. I hugged Doug closer to me as Steve continued to drain the cream from Mike's straining prick. Mike's helpless cries filled the room as he disgorged load after load into Steve's mouth.
Now the orgasm had become less explosive as it neared its end, and I pulled Doug's head onto my shoulder affectionately as I ran my fingers through his light brown hair. I felt a bump on his scalp, and I parted his hair to look at it. It seemed to be a recently healed scar, and tiny red dots ran down each side, where sutures had recently been removed.
My attention was divided between my recent discovery and Mike's rapidly fading orgasm. Mike was now still, and Steve had removed his mouth after licking the softening head clean. Gently, he replaced the abundant foreskin over the tip, and let Mike's penis flow down onto his abdomen. I puzzled over the fresh cicatrix on Doug's scalp. A couple of minutes later, when Mike opened his eyes, I spoke:
"Hey, Mike, want to take a look at this?" Mike sluggishly arose and came to look at the spot where I was parting Doug's hair.
"Did you recently have surgery on your head?" he asked Doug.
"Oh, yes, before I left they implanted a locator in my scalp. This was something new, so that they could get a fix on me at all times."
"There's something funny about that," Mike exclaimed. "Did they give you any special instructions as well?"
"Yes, they told me that I had to check in every 24 hours by pressing a button on my remote. I did yesterday evening, but I won't be able to do it now because you've got the remote in your office."
"Let's get you over to the hospital right away," Mike said as he began getting dressed. We got up and dressed as well, while Mike used his communicator to summon a police vehicle.
"You two stay here," he said to Steve and me. "I can't explain now but I've got to get him scanned right away." He and Doug left, followed by John, and Steve and I sat down to wait. We were worried, too concerned to have any further sex, no mater how stimulating the environment. Steve fixed drinks and we made small talk for a couple of hours until Mike and Doug returned. Doug had a bandage on his head.
"What happened?" Steve and I said together as we stood.
"Sit down; it's a long story," Mike replied. Then he narrated the events at the hospital:
"I wondered why they'd implanted anything in his head, and why they'd give him strict instructions to check in every 24 hours. One might be reasonable, but together they added up to something sinister." Mike and Doug sat down on the couch opposite as they removed their clothing. Steve and I had already undressed after they'd left, so we were already naked. Mike continued:
"The duty doctor got Doug into the scanner, and I saw a picture of some sort of electronic apparatus on the screen. The electronics were tiny, but wrapped around them was some sort of substance, that didn't seem to fit. I called one of our technicians from home and he was there within a few minutes. He said he guessed that the substance might be some sort of explosive after I'd explained the situation with Doug. The doctor said he wanted to remove it right away, and he got Doug knocked out with the electrical anesthesia machine and opened the scar." Steve and I looked at each other, not saying anything, although I noticed that Doug appeared very pale.
"The doctor threw the device down the disposal chute in the operating room and a minute later we heard a small detonation from below. It turned out that the device had exploded in the disposal bin. Fortunately, nobody was near it. The tech told me that he'd seen pictures of similar devices before. Some terrorists had these implanted in their scalps so that if they were captured, or failed to carry out their assignments, they could be killed by an electronic signal. I think Doug's bosses wanted to make sure that if he didn't report back on schedule they could ensure his death." By this time, Doug had begun to shiver, although it was warm in the room.
"The bastards!" he said. "The fucking bastards!"
"They did this to you?" I asked, numbed by the startling news. "Didn't they tell you about it?"
"No! They lied to me. I remember that they were very concerned over what they called the `defections.' They felt that most or all of the people they'd sent to another time had decided of their own free will not to return. They were talking about ways to recover people who had defected, but they never told me about this!"
"So they were willing to kill you if you didn't follow the program," Steve said ruminatively. He reached for my hand and clasped it.
"I guess if I failed to check in the way they wanted, they'd set it off," Doug added. "It follows, too. I was supposed to check in every evening at eight. The explosion took place a few minutes after eight. The got that thing out of me just in time."
"I don't mean to scare you even more, Doug," Mike went on. "But I think you had a close call. They gave you a few minutes' slack in case you weren't right on the dot of eight, but then decided you were a lost cause and set it off."
"That was pure vindictiveness," I said.
"They didn't care about me except to use me," Doug said. "When they decided I was of no further use to them, they kissed me off. Well, guys, you can be sure I don't want ever to go back to those bastards."
"Welcome to our world," Steve said.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Mike said. "Now you've heard the bad news. Let me tell you the good news." Steve and I looked at him expectantly.
"Where's John?" I asked, belated remembering that John had not returned.
"Chief Dexter came to see us when he heard the news, and he took John with him to be debriefed by the joint counter-terrorism task force. John's going to be with them a few days."
"Okay," I said. "Now can you tell us what else happened?"
"While we were at the hospital, I got Doug processed for his DNA. We got him a card right away, and then he saw the urologist, who was still there. With the cells they scraped from the inside of his cheek, they're going to clone his new foreskin. They'll have it ready in a couple of days."
"Was that Doctor Simmons?" I asked. Mike nodded.
"The urologist was very nice," Doug said. "He asked me what sort of foreskin I wanted. I told him as long as possible."
"They'll call when Doug's new hood is ready," Mike added.
"Doug's been through a lot this evening," Steve said. "He needs a little relaxation."
"Want to fix him a drink?" Mike asked.
"No I had something else in mind," Steve replied. "He hasn't had any of our electro-stimulation yet." He arose and took Doug by the hand, leading him into one of the bedrooms. Steve's case was on the floor beside the bed, and Steve removed the electro box and the wires from it.
"This is pretty nice," I assured Doug. "I had it when I first got here. It's pretty intense."
"You'll find it surprisingly intense," Steve told him. "Since you've been circumcised, you've lost your foreskin and all of the nerves in it, so you've never experienced the sensations possible with it. The electronic pulses work on the nerves directly, and what you'll feel is the full range of sensations, as if you'd never been circumcised." He began applying the electrodes to Doug's penis.
"Now you just relax and let me adjust the controls. I'm pretty experienced at this, and I'm going to give you an orgasm like none you've ever had." He flipped the power switch on, and adjusted the power levels to send a pleasant tingle through Doug's groin. Mike and I sat on each side of Doug's supine body, gently caressing him. Mike tweaked his nipples and I ran my hands down the insides of his thighs. Doug's face took on a beatific smile as the sensations poured into him, and he visibly relaxed. I knew that he wouldn't remain relaxed for long as the build-up to his orgasm intensified.
Now I cupped his scrotum as Steve increased the power level. I felt his scrotum tighten between my fingers as Doug became aroused. His prick swelled rapidly, the large helmet standing out proudly at the end of his straight shaft. Steve turned the power knob higher, and I saw the veins bulging on Doug's shaft as it came to its ultimate hardness.
"Ahhhh, that's good," Doug sighed as his excitement mounted. The waves of pleasure coursing through his body erased all thoughts of the evening's unpleasant events, and he surrendered himself to pure sensation. I ran my fingers up his shaft and onto the swollen helmet, which had become glossy as it had distended fully. It was no longer leathery, but with the fullness of his erection the membrane had stretched to its limit. A drop of clear fluid parted the lips of his slit as Steve tweaked the power up another notch.
"Now I'm going to make your cock twitch when I turn on the `Pulse' function," he said. He turned another knob and we watched as Doug's hot hard prick began to jerk at a rate of about twice a second.
"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" Doug grunted as waves of sensation flowed through him, driving him to the peak of excitement. I felt the electrically induced throbs in his shaft as I clasped it, wanting to experience his excitement vicariously.
"His cock's really jerking now," Mike commented as he moved his hand down to caress the insides of Doug's thighs. "That big head's really swollen." Now Doug's eyes had closed, and we all felt the rising tension in his body as waves of excitement gripped him.
"I think I'll keep him right here for a minute or two," Steve said. "This is going to be intense for him, but his orgasm will last longer if we keep him edging for a minute or two." Doug's balls were drawn up tightly against his body, and he was seeping steadily from his distended meatus. The fluid flowed down his swollen helmet, drenching the circular electrode that was wrapped around the neck of his penis, right behind the head.
Doug was still grunting, and now his body had begun a slight twitching, a reflex action as his excitement inched slowly upward. I ran my fingertip over the hard and slippery surface of his helmet, gauging his excitement by its feel and the way the surface had darkened to a deep purple.
"I'm reducing the power slightly," Steve announced. "Otherwise he'd pop his nut in another couple of seconds. I want to keep him right on the edge a while longer." Doug's body continued to twitch, but I sensed that he was holding. The clear lubricant continued to pour from his slit, and now his pubic patch was wet. His fists were clenched, his eyes tightly shut, and he was poised right at the brink.
"He's going to blow his load in a minute at this level," Steve advised. "It's impossible for him to maintain indefinitely the way he's tightened up now." Doug grunted his unconscious agreement as his body continued to twitch, and now we saw his legs begin to tremble as he began to slide slowly over the brink.
"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" he grunted as I felt a deep throb in his helmet and saw a long, powerful stream of white fluid slam through the lips of his long slit and shoot upward. His hips bucked and his face contorted with the violence of his orgasm. His entire body shuddered as another torrent of cream erupted from the distended orifice to arc upward and land on his stomach. His helpless grunts filled the room as he spewed his hot seed in mindless pleasure.
Steve inched the power level up slightly and we heard Doug grunt even more loudly as the electric pulses pulled another hot ejaculation from his straining prick. Doug's hips were bucking wildly throughout, and now they thrust upward to impart added velocity to his fourth jet. Another torrent poured from his straining helmet, with less force but the same volume, as Steve lowered the power.
Now Doug had stopped grunting and was only sobbing as his orgasm drained him dry. The fluid streaming from his slit had begun to turn clear, and we knew that he'd expended all of his semen. He was now leaking only clear fluid as the electric pulses continued to make his prick jerk, and his erection was not yet subsiding. I knew that when I'd had an electro orgasm, keeping the power on had maintained the pleasant sensations for a minute after my ejaculations had finished.
Finally, Steve turned off the machine and began removing the electrodes. Doug was completely relaxed, dazed by the violence and intensity of his electronically induced orgasm, and ready for a good night's sleep. I cuddled up next to him, while Steve and Mike went to their bedroom.
Next morning we ate a quick breakfast of croissants and coffee, and after that Doug and I took a shower together in our bathroom while Steve and Mike used theirs.
"I have to pee. Do you mind?" Doug asked as the hot water coursed over our bodies.
"No, go ahead. I pee in the shower all the time," I replied. I watched as a thick yellow stream jetted from Doug's long slit to wash down the drain with the swirling water.
"Now look at this," I said as I pinched the nipple of my long foreskin shut and relaxed my sphincter. My hood began to distend, like a balloon, as Doug watched, fascinated.
"So that's what you can do if you're uncut," he said. "I'd seen a few uncut guys before, but I'd never seen one do what you're doing."
"It feels nice when the hot pee swirls around my head and behind the rim," I explained. "You'll be able to have that feeling soon, after you get your new foreskin attached.
"Wow! I really look forward to that," he said. "How long do you think it's going to take?"
"Well, they had my new cloned foreskin ready in two or three days, and then it took about two days to heal. With their new surgical techniques, healing's very fast. You can see it didn't leave much of a scar, either." I held my prick up for him to inspect.
"You're right. I wouldn't even have noticed the scar if you hadn't pointed it out to me." We finished showering, dried ourselves, and got dressed. Mike and Steve were already dressed when we came out, and we prepared to leave for work.
At the office, Wallace was waiting for us, and directed us into the conference room.
"I think we've got a good idea of their new method of operation now, based on Doug's experience. You had a close call there, Doug," he said, looking sympathetically at him.
"The fuckers would have blown my brains out if you guys hadn't been so quick on the uptake," Doug replied with a shudder.
"Fuck yeah," I added. I was angry at the deadly tactics of those running the time travel project back in my own era.
"The only thing we don't know for sure is whether or not they'll keep sending people," Wallace continued. "We can't keep up this surveillance operation forever. It's too demanding on our very limited manpower. As you might have guessed, our police force is tiny, partly because New York City isn't the size it was back then, but also because we just don't have that much crime. The religious terrorists are our main problem, and there aren't many of them left."
"My opinion, for what it's worth, is that Doug was their last effort," I said. "It's just my guess, but I think that the decisive factor is that nobody's ever come back from either the past or the future. That business with the explosive implant was a move of desperation. They could have killed Doug, but that wouldn't have told them what happened. It was just pure viciousness."
"I can't prove anything I say either," said Mike. "However, I agree with your reasoning. What they did was shitty, but it was also counter-productive."
"I'll go along with that," said Wallace to me. "Inspector Stanmore sees it the same way as you do."
"How long do you want to continue the surveillance, or do we wrap this up today?" asked Mike Stanmore.
"Another week, I think, just to be on the safe side. Of course, we'll tell our customs people and transportation units to keep an eye out for anyone who fits the profile, male or female." With these words, Wallace left the room.
"Okay, I guess we'll go to the surveillance room and keep an eye on the screens," Mike said.
While we were scrutinizing the screens, Doug spoke:
"That was a good point Wallace brought up. So far, they've only sent men through the time machine. I wonder what the odds are of their sending a woman?"
"There's no way to tell," I said. However, when I was in their facilities, I didn't see a single female. Do you know if they employed any, or were recruiting any? After all, you were one of them."
"No, I never saw a female there, in any of their facilities, New York, Arizona, or Chicago."
"Maybe they've got an ingrained bias against using women," Mike suggested. "That could be, you know."
We sat silently contemplating various unpleasant prospects while watching the screens. The next day was also uneventful, but on the next, Mike received a call from the hospital. Doug's newly cloned foreskin was ready, and when could he come in for the surgery?
Wallace covered for us in the surveillance room while Mike, Doug, and I went to the hospital. We stood by while a male nurse prepped Doug for his surgery. Dr. Simmons came in, and quickly explained to Doug exactly what would happen.
"We'll put you to sleep right now, before we wheel you in to the operating room. We'll bring you back here afterward, and when you wake up your friends will be here with you." He placed the electrodes on Doug's head, flipped a switch on the anesthesia unit, and Doug was instantly unconscious.
"He'll be as happy as you were, getting a new foreskin," Mike commented to me while we waited. "Oh, I know he will," I replied. "I'm really glad we don't do that shit anymore," Mike continued. "I would really hate it, being strapped down and getting my foreskin cut off without having anything to say about it." "Well, those were the bad old days," I said. "I think you don't even have capital punishment anymore, do you?" "No, we have so few murders it's not worth the effort," Mike answered. "As far as the terrorists go, they're religious fanatics. Deterrence doesn't work with that kind, anyway." "What do you do with them, then?" I asked. "Most are killed while we're trying to apprehend them," Mike replied. "The rest usually get life imprisonment. That's just warehousing them until they die. We don't have parole or early release for terrorists." At this point we saw Doug being wheeled back into the room, and a few seconds later he was fully conscious, without an anesthesia hangover. "That was quick and slick," he commented to us. "I didn't feel a thing." "Now remember, keep the bandage on for 24 hours, and no sexual activity for another day or two after that," Dr. Simmons told him. "After that, enjoy your new foreskin all you want." Doug got dressed and returned with us to the office, where Wallace greeted him with a broad smile.
"Well, now you're really one of the boys," he said. "I feel really good about this," Doug replied. "I know exactly how you feel," I said. We continued to watch the screens without result for another hour, and then it was quitting time. A patrol officer came in to watch the screens during the night, but we were confident that nothing would happen. Mike took us home with him, where Steve was already preparing dinner. Doug's recovery was uneventful, and I coached him as he went along, telling him to bad the end of his new nippled foreskin with toilet paper during the healing period. The third evening we sat around after dinner as Doug experimented with his new hood, retracting it slowly over his helmet. "Not too tight?" Steve asked as the blunt end of Doug's broad helmet came into view. "No, it's tight, but that's just the way I like it. I like the squeeze around my helmet when I skin it back," Doug replied as he retracted his hood farther to reveal the body of his glans. The widened orifice of his foreskin was poised on the flaring rim of his helmet, and with a slight tug, it snapped down into the deep groove behind the rim. We admired the deep purple gloss of his swollen helmet, and I reached out to place a finger on the front, covering the long slit. "Man, that feels sensitive," he said. "That retinoic acid the doctor gave me really works." "I knew it would," I said. "After all, it worked for me." I noticed that his slit felt wet under my finger, and I began spreading the slippery wetness in small circles. This provoked a deep sigh from Doug, and his back arched. I felt a spurt of liquid against the pad of my fingertip, and I began spreading the clear lubricant farther over his totally bared helmet, following the sexy contours down the sides. "It feels so sensitive..." Doug trailed off. I brought my fingertip farther back along the wet, slippery head and traced the corona up one side and down the other, paying special attention to the vee-grove underneath. Steve got up quickly and returned with a towel from the kitchen. He spread it over Doug's stomach and knelt in front of his to cup his sac. Mike came over to sit beside Steve and began to caress the inside of Doug's thighs. Both of them were rock-hard from the excitement of watching Doug's reactions. I grasped Doug's shaft and pulled down gently on the thick fleshy sleeve that formed a collar behind the head. "Does it hurt at all when I pull?" I asked. Doug shook his head and I exerted more traction, at the same time squeezing to compress the veins. The effect was almost immediate. The trapped blood made the helmet swell even more and the veins stood out on his shaft ahead of my fist. "I can feel how hard your head is," I said. Lubricating fluid was leaking copiously from Doug's long slit, and I used this to begin a grand tour of his glans, working my fingertip all around the rim and circling the slit. Now I strummed the bowstring under the head, feeling its tightness as I stretched it back to stimulate the nerve endings. Doug had begun shuddering with the intensity of the sensations pouring into his hot prick. "I'll stretch his sac," Steve commented as he changed his grip and began pulling down on Doug's balls, stretching the scrotal skin to enhance his sensations. His other hand was stroking Mike's hard prick, gently so as not to provoke too quick an orgasm. "He's really hot," said Mike. "See how his face is flushed now? This is his first orgasm with a foreskin and I know it's hitting him hard." Doug's shuddering had intensified, and it was obvious to all that he was caught up and thoroughly captivated by the intense new sensations. His eyes had just closed, and as I caressed his smooth wet helmet I felt it was hard as granite. I twisted my fist around the big wet glans and this made Doug grunt loudly. I felt the hot hard prick throb sharply in my hands as Doug's hips lifted from the couch. "AH! AH! AAAAAHHHH!" he bellowed at the first thick rope of cream shot upward from his straining helmet, falling back onto his stomach. His prick throbbed again and another thick jet erupted from his glans, slamming through the long lips of his slit on its way upward. Doug's hips were bucking hard, and his grunts filled the room as he hurtled down the canyon of the most intense orgasm of his life. Doug's prick throbbed again, sending another torrent of cream spurting upward. The next throb heralded only a minor ejaculation, and I knew that his tanks were running low. I also knew that at any moment his helmet would become super-sensitive, and I stopped massaging it to prevent distress. I kept his foreskin tightly back, though, to keep tension on the nerve endings and fuel his orgasm. His loud grunts had subsided to moans, and now his semen only seeped from his slit. It was turning clear, a change from the thick white of before, and I knew Doug was close to being totally drained. Doug sighed deeply, and became utterly still as his body relaxed, sinking into the rapturous daze that follows orgasm. Mike and Steve moved onto the other couch again, and I watched them as they slipped into a "69" position. They tongued each other's tips for a couple of minutes, tantalizingly insufficient to produce climax. Now Doug was reviving, and he pulled me down to him to give me a big wet tongue-probing kiss as his other hand grasped my prick. He pumped my foreskin slowly and delicately, letting me know without words how much he appreciated the pleasure I'd given him. Now Steve and Mike got up and went into their bedroom, motioning us to follow them. Mike took a condom from the drawer and handed it to Steve, who opened the envelope and rolled it down Mike's glans and shaft. Mike was seeping so heavily that no additional lubricant was necessary. "We're going to do Princeton and you're welcome to watch," Steve said to us. He rolled on his side to face away from Mike and lifted his leg. Mike eased in behind him and placed his prick between Steve's thighs, the tip nudging his balls. When he began to thrust he reached over Steve and grasped his prick, slowly sliding the long foreskin up and down the helmet-shaped glans. On the down-stroke he completely bared it, and on the return he covered it right to the end, with the tip of Steve's foreskin forming a pucker in his fist. Doug and I didn't have to speak; we got on both sides of them, and Doug began caressing Mike's back and legs while I cupped Steve's rapidly tightening scrotum. With us adding to their sensations, it didn't take long for the climax. Mike's muscular body began to thrust more vigorously, and soon Mike was slamming his hips into Steve's body. As I kneaded Steve's sac gently, I felt Mike's hot hard tip as it brushed my fingers. Meanwhile, Steve's fingers closed around my prick. I saw Steve's big helmet darkening each time Mike's fingers stroked back the foreskin, and I knew that he was very close. Steve's eyes closed, and he yelped the helpless cry of orgasm as his prick shot a torrent of cream onto the towel. I quickly moved my hand to press my fingertips against the underside of Mike's glans, rubbing his hot spot, and in another couple of seconds Mike was grunting as I felt his prick throbbing through the thin latex. Their bodies strained against each other as they discharged their fluids, their cries filling the air. Steve had let go of my prick, but Doug reached over and grasped it, pumping my foreskin to draw me over the edge. At that hot moment, it took only a couple of strokes and I was lost, spewing my cream helplessly as Doug whipped my foreskin up and down my hot, straining glans. I cried out helplessly as my eyes closed and the torrents of hot cream burned their way up my prick. Although my awareness of the world around had dimmed as I hurtled into the free-fall of orgasm, I was still aware that Steve, Mike, and I were shooting simultaneously, moaning and gasping in passion as we melted into each other. When it was over we lay still, enjoying the afterglow, dazed by the violence of or climaxes. I opened my eyes to see Doug smiling down at me, happy that he'd been able to return the favor. "Well, let's take a shower," Mike said to me after a couple of minutes. "Our shower's not big enough for four, so you and Doug pair off in your bathroom. Doug, of course you're staying here and you'll share the other bed with him." In the shower, we soaped each other's bodies, and when Doug skinned me back, I felt the urge to pee. I quickly pushed my hood forward and pinched the end of the nipple, watching him do the same with his prick. "Man, I just love this," he said as his new hood swelled and ballooned as mine was doing. We released our hoods at the same moment, watching the yellow gushes splattering over our legs, and then pinched them again to repeat the cycle. "I told you you'd be able to do that yourself," I said as he smiled at me, a big beaming smile of utter satisfaction. After we'd drained ourselves, we dried off and spent the night in each other's arms. The following morning, when we got to the office, Investigator Wallace and Chief Dexter awaited us. Dexter spoke first: "I think we're not going to get any more visitors. Wallace told me your consensus, and I agree with you. I think they've shot their load. From what I know of the politics of your era, I don't think they're going to continue to spend fabulous amounts of money to continue the project. The engineering behind it is amazing, but the bad side is that it's produced absolutely no tangible results, and without those, the momentum isn't going to carry it." "Now we want to see what we can do about getting you three integrated into our time," Mike said. "You all seem to have adapted very well so far, and I think you'll fit in perfectly." "How would you like to join the department?" asked Chief Dexter. "You've already shown some investigative skills, and you just might have a place on our joint counter-terrorism task force. John's already there, and he's been some help in advising them what to look for when searching for people who don't belong, people who might look suspicious, and all that." "You'll all have to attend the academy, to get basic training under your belts, but that should be a snap," added Wallace. "I'd love to," I said, with absolute certainty that Doug and John would agree. We really were home at last.
The End