Jacking With Roger by Jackinnm@yahoo.com
I felt a familiar itch in my glans as I walked up to Roger's door, a feeling that comes over me when I am horny and anticipating release. As Roger and I had planned this meeting a week ago, I had avoided orgasm since to build up a load of sperm because I found my climaxes always more intense and satisfying when I had a large backlog of sperm to release. As I pushed the doorbell, I was very conscious of my prick, with the itch localizing in my corona and a drop of pre-come parting the lips of my pee-hole and seeping between my foreskin and cock-head. Paul, a long-time friend and jacking partner, had given me Roger's number and told him to anticipate a call from me because Paul knew that Roger and I would have a lot in common. We were about the same age, 50, and both had foreskins that contributed greatly to our sexual pleasure. When we'd spoken, Roger and I had exchanged views and found that we shared the same tastes in sex. This had made us eager to meet and share orgams. Roger was dressed only in boxer shorts when he opened the door, and as I looked him over I noted that he was somewhat shorter than my six feet, with a muscular build that made me appear skinny by comparison. He was balding, but his hair was more brown than mine, which had begun graying a few years ago. A thick brown mustache adorned his upper lip, contrasting with my clean-shaven appearance, but we both wore eyeglasses. His were horn-rimmed, while mine had thin metal frames. Roger led me into his bedroom without formalities, where he immediately dropped his shorts and lay back on his elbows. I immediately looked at his crotch, and liked what I saw, a medium-sized cock resting limp on a large ball bag. "That's a pretty prick," I said. "Can I touch?" Roger nodded, and I picked up his limp cock between two fingers as I sat down next to him on the king-size mattress. I squeezed his glans through the covering hood, noting that he had a well-defined ridge that bulged through the thick foreskin. I squeezed again, this time feeling an answering throb as his bulbo-cavernal reflex kicked in. As his prick began swelling, Roger said; "I'm curious about you. Strip down and let me see." I had my clothes and shoes off in less than a minute, and lay down in a "69" position next to him. We didn't intend to have oral sex, but knew that this position provided us with the best view of each other's crotches, placing them within easy reach as well. Roger's cock was inches from my face, and I saw that his foreskin had a dime-sized opening that revealed the end of his red glans. Roger got a good look at my long, tapering, funnel shaped foreskin that extended about half an inch beyond the head. "Wow, I like your long foreskin," he exclaimed as he rolled the nipple between thumb and forefinger. As we both were experienced with foreskins, we didn't try to retract them immediately as do some guys unfamiliar with how foreskins work and what feels good to an intact prick. With one finger of his other hand, Roger traced the outline of my corona, bulging through the fleshy hood. Then he pinched my glans through the covering skin, thumb on the top of my ridge and forefinger digging into the sensitive triangle under the head. My prick responded and began swelling. Roger's foreskin began pulling back from the head, and I saw that he had a strawberry shaped glans, something that I didn't often see. It was narrow in front, and tapered out to a thick ridge, much like a strawberry. Most cock-heads are mushroom shaped or helmets like mine. A few have other shapes, and the variety makes the prick more interesting. My prick expanded to its full six inches, but the foreskin still covered the bulge of the glans. Roger's cock was somewhat longer at full extension, about six and a half, and his foreskin was now drawn tightly back, exposing the wet red tip. When I encircled his shaft with my hand and tugged forward gently, testing the stretch of his foreskin, I found that I could pull it forward enough to bump his corona. "That's the way I usually do it," he said as I stroked his hood back and forth a few times. He then began pulling back on my foreskin, watching the nipple expand as it rode over the swell of my purple glans. When he had it all the way back he held it there, exclaiming; "I like that cock-head. Helmets always turn me on because I like the flaring ridge. So does your long skin. I can get a lot of action with it, and I bet the long strokes really do something for you." "You're right," I said. "I like to take long, slow strokes all the way back, and then push forward until the head all covered." He pulled my foreskin forward and gave it a little twist, producing extra sensations in the glans. Most guys, cut or not, know that giving their fist a little twist on the cock-head heightens excitement. "I brought a tape," I said, pointing to the videocassette on top of my clothing beside the bed. "Is it European?" he asked, and I knew he knew that "European" was usually a connotation of "foreskin-equipped," as few European men are circumcised. We both enjoyed the vicarious stimulation of watching intact guys stroking their foreskins to bring on orgasm. Hanging over the foot of the bed was a 32" TV, and a VCR hung in a bracket below it. Roger inserted the cassette, and we sat back to watch. He had ample pillows, and we piled them against the headboard and sat side by side. A stack of towels was on the corner of the bed, and I admired Roger's foresight because I knew we'd be needing them. Roger held the remote control in his left hand and stroked my prick gently with his right. My left fist wrapped around his turgid shaft and bumped his corona rhythmically with the skin. A drop of prick-honey appeared at the opening of his glans, and I spread the slippery liquid around the hole in small circles with my other forefinger. This made Roger smile, and he squeezed my shaft hard. The first actor, like all in this tape, was in his early 20s and had a large, well-shaped dick. A thin foreskin covered the well-defined helmet-head at the end of his slightly upward-curving shaft, and we both watched, fascinated, as the blond actor stroked his hood lovingly up and down. When he finally came, he shot long white jets at least a foot into the air. Those who followed him were also chosen for their good looks and attractive cocks, as well as their ability to shoot thick jets. Each demonstrated different ways of stimulating his foreskin, which added to our enjoyment. "Are you a shooter or a dribbler?" Roger asked me after we'd been watching about a half-hour. "Most of the time I dribble," I replied. "When I'm really excited, or when I've got a big load waiting, I tend to shoot." "I'm a shooter most of the time," he said. "If I'm tired, or if I've just shot a load an hour before, I'll probably just dribble, although it still feels good to me. Right now I know I'll shoot because I've been saving up and action with another buy always turns me on terrifically. I hope I make you shoot this time." "You probably will, Roger. I'm getting turned on from holding your prick, as well as watching this tape." I continued to stroke Roger's shaft, bumping his corona each time. His cock was steadily drooling pre-come, the wetness flowing over his swollen glans and down onto my encircling fingers. He stopped the tape after another half-hour and turned to me. "I really need to come, Jack. I need to come now. I can't wait any longer." His hand continued to pump my cock, and I felt the urgency in his strokes. "Okay, let me bring you to orgasm," I replied. "I can tell you're close because your balls are already drawn up tight, and I'll do what I do with my cock when I'm this close." I drew back his foreskin as far as I could, putting enough tension on his gee-string to make the end of his glans dip down towards his balls. Then I moved my hand forward again, bringing the skin up to bump the swollen corona. Meanwhile, Roger had spread a towel over his chest and abdomen. I felt his hot cock in my hand, the shaft swelling to its final volume and hardening even more in my fist as he mounted the plateau of sensation. The red color of his strawberry glans deepened, showing that he was close to erupting. Roger 's eyes were fixed on his cock and I knew his conscious mind was closing down, all of his attention focusing on the pleasant sensations in his prick. More slippery dew continued to flow from the hole at the end of his turgid glans, and I pulled his skin back as hard as I could, knowing that the stretchy sensation was building his excitement in a slow and controllable way. I didn't want to bring on orgasm too quickly, as I wanted him to enjoy the ride to the summit, so I kept my strokes slow, making sure he felt every nuance of sensation. I heard his breathing deepen to a rhythmic "HAH, HAH, HAH" as I continued to stroke his rigid cock, and I saw his eyes close as he withdrew into himself, aware of nothing but the mounting sensations in his crotch. His lips drew back from his teeth as I brought him closer to the edge, and his last words were whispered; "I feel it happening." I knew what he meant, as the feeling of imminent orgasm was like a slowly breaking wave when I used this technique on myself. I lay alongside him, feeling his body's warmth as I increased his sensations and brought him nearer to the explosion. He felt it coming in the distance, drawing closer, but it hadn't yet overwhelmed him. There was still time to enjoy the tickling feelings before they changed to hot throbs and made him totally helpless. A slight throb in his shaft was followed by a pulse of clear dew from his come-hole. I bumped his ridge again, then twisted my fist to enhance his sensations before drawing back and tugging his glans down again. I felt another slight throb, and this time the pulse of juice from his orifice was slightly milky. This told me he was right on the edge, and his sperm valves were leaking from the pressure. Now, with his ridge completely exposed, I triggered his storm by giving him a few quick pumps before the sensations faded. I heard him go "HAHHHHHH!" as I pushed him headlong over the cliff, and I felt the hard throb in his cock as the first thick jet shot high into the air to land on his chest. His oval come-hole distended further as another thick jet erupted from it, again shooting high onto his body. Roger cried out in joyful agony as the rush of hot sensations overwhelmed him, and I felt his body shudder against mine because he was having a full-body orgasm. I really enjoyed having my hand around a man's cock, giving him the most delicious sensations he could experience. My cock was hot and hard, pressed between my stomach and Roger's hip. It was lucky that Roger had let go of my prick as he began coming, because he would have made me explode right then, and my cock would have been pouring its white fluid all over his body. As it was, I was careful not to rub my prick against his flesh, because that would have brought me too close to coming. I saw Roger's jets weaken, and then change to a dribble that poured from his hole. I stopped massaging his cock, because I thought this was the point at which it would become too sensitive, and further friction would cause only distress, not pleasure. Roger sighed deeply as the last drop emerged from his glans, and I felt his prick begin to soften. We lay utterly still for a minute as his breathing returned to normal, then he rolled up the towel and wiped his prick with it. He then leaned over and kissed me on the forehead, saying; "That was wonderful, Jack. I hope I can do as well for you now that it's your turn." His hand moved to my prick as I lay back on the pillows, watching him pump my foreskin up and down in long slow strokes. I consciously relaxed all of my muscles, trying to avoid the tension that would speed the onset of climax. I savored every stroke, every sensation, because one of my great pleasures is feeling a man's loving hand on my cock, massaging and stroking it to make me feel good. Roger paused to spread a towel over my body to catch the juice. "Ever have a snake-bite?" he asked as he paused in his stroking. I remembered my old friend Stan giving me a snake-bite on my cock,
which had made me shoot intensely. "Yeah, I like it a lot," I replied. "Okay, I'll do you that way, make sure you shoot instead of dribbling." Roger clasped my penis between the open palms of his hands, moving them in opposite directions as if starting a fire with a stick. My foreskin twisted sideways with his hands, in one direction, then the other, rubbing over my glans and sending thrills through my cock. This was one of the most intense methods of stimulating a cock, I knew, because it provided friction, pressure, and tension to hit all receptors. I didn't secrete as much lubricant as Roger, but could see the drops emerging as he worked on my penis. His hands had pulled my foreskin back enough so that I saw the end of my glans through a dime-sized opening, and I watched each drop emerge from the teardrop shaped orifice and spread between hood and head. The extra lubrication helped me keep from popping right then, because Roger's hands were sending waves of pleasure through my prick. His hands moved faster on my cock, working and twisting the foreskin over the head, and I caught my breath at the intensity of the sensations. My balls had been tight against my body since before he'd begun, and now I felt the pressure in my shaft and head build up as they became more engorged with the anticipation of orgasm. I was on the plateau, and Roger noted this; "You're cock-head's swollen. I can feel it. You're almost there." The itch in my corona had returned, and Roger's stroking wasn't relieving it this time. He stepped up the pace again, and I felt the itch change to a very pleasant tickle, filling my entire ridge with sensation. I stared at my prick, now the center of my attention, and felt my conscious mind begin to shut down as Roger's had a few minutes ago. My prick was the center of my being, hot and swollen with stimulation, and the tickle in my ridge spread all over the head. My breathing was gasping, and I felt the sensations rushing in on me as Roger drove me into orgasm. The tickle in the head had changed to a tingle, and then the hot thrill of orgasm overwhelmed me and I cried out in agonized ecstasy as I felt the heavy pounding begin in my cock-root. I was helpless as my eyes closed and I became only aware of the rush of sensation as the first burning jet shot up my tube and turned the corner where the tube bent upward inside the glans. I was feeling every twinge, every nuance of sensation as time expanded in my altered state of consciousness. The fluid burned as it erupted from my tip, then another contraction deep inside pumped another jet up my cock as I groaned in delight. Roger's hands kept wringing my cock, producing more spasms in my cock-root, and I felt only the delightful tickling of orgasm, an intense feeling that had me gasping and groaning as more spurts erupted from my cock. Roger said something in the distance, but I couldn't understand him because my entire world was in my cock, and nothing from outside penetrated. My spasms were less intense now, and I became aware that Roger was still next to me, and murmuring in my ear. "You really came, Jack," were the first words I heard. "Your prick shot its loads high, and only now is it dribbling." I opened my eyes and saw white rivulets on the blue towel covering my chest. "Man you were really shooting," Roger continued, "and I was glad to make it happen for you." I gripped his shoulders tightly and pulled him to me, kissing him on the forehead and both cheeks before letting go. Roger helped me roll up the towel and wipe the residue from my cock. We were both exhausted from the intense orgasms, and developing strong appetites. Roger suggested going out to eat and after a quick shower, we did.
The end.