Reunion With Al

Reunion with Al, Part 1 By Jackinnm@yahoo.com

I remembered my childhood friend Al vividly, and recognized him after over 30 years. We'd progressed through the same classes all through elementary school, but had lost track of each other after my family had moved away. Now I saw him at a bar where I occasionally stopped for a beer after work, and went over to make sure it was him.

"Hey, Al, I'm Jack from Benedict Arnold Grade School," I said. He turned and blinked at me several times behind his thick glasses, and I feared that I'd made a mistake. "Al?" I asked again. Then he smiled.

"Hey, Jack, it's been a long time. You've changed a lot. I didn't recognize you at first." He got off his stool and extended his hand. With the ice broken, we got fresh drinks and moved to a corner table where we caught up on old times. We still worked in the same city where we'd spent our childhoods and adolescences. Despite this, we'd never encountered each other through the years, possibly because we moved in different circles. He was a construction foreman and I was a purchasing agent. We'd both been married and widowed, and had each had two kids who were now grown up and on their own.

"Come on over to my place," he said after we'd had a couple more beers. "I don't live all that far and I'd like to show you the place. I really modified it over the years." As I'd sold the house and moved to an apartment after Helen had died, I was curious regarding how he lived, alone in a big house.

After we'd parked in his driveway he showed me inside. The house had begun as a standard housing unit built by a developer, but he'd added many custom features, such as a veranda outside the upstairs bedroom, and a high slat fence around the yard.

"Hey, it's hot," he said. "Let's go for a dip in the pool. I added that a couple of years after I bought the house."

"I didn't bring a bathing suit," I said apologetically.

"Who cares? Nobody can see in with that fence, and we've seen each other before." He was right. We'd been naked in front of each other many times in the school's locker room. We stripped down on the patio and went into the pool. I saw that Al's sandy brown hair was a few shades lighter than my own, even in his pubic area. He was slightly shorter than my six feet, with a stocky build.

"I see you're still uncut," he said once we were up to our necks in water. I wasn't surprised that he'd noticed, as one reason we'd been friends in school was that we were the only two intact boys in our class. We enjoyed our minority status, as other boys looked at our pricks with a little awe and a lot of envy. After all we were intact and they were the amputees.

"Oh, yeah, why shouldn't I be?" I asked.

"Our family doctor kept telling me I should get cut," he said. "He said it was cleaner and all that crap. He even wanted to cut my two boys when they were born, but I didn't let him. I wanted them to grow up natural like their old man. Now that they're adults, they're glad I didn't get them cut."

"We had two girls," I said. "That question didn't come up. Our doctor never hassled me about my foreskin, either."

"Now that I'm on my own, and have to take care of myself, I'm glad that I've still got that skin. It's great for beating off." I was slightly surprised that he was being so candid with me, and replied in kind:

"I do the same thing. I don't have a girlfriend."

"Well, neither do I. It's different when you're in your 20s and when you're in your 40s. Women our age today, they're mostly divorced and have really bitter attitudes towards men."

"I noticed that too. I tried dating after Helen died, but I found that women seemed to have attitudes," I said.

"Anyway, beating off's lots of fun. You don't have to buy yourself dinner, tell yourself that you love you, and all that," he said, repeating the old joke.

"I do that a few times a week," I said. "Sometimes I just do it to relax after I get off work."

"Yeah, it's nature's tranquilizer," he laughed. "It's better than a drink or a pill. At least it doesn't leave me with a hangover." Getting in the spirit of the moment, I said:

"I remember how we beat off together after school." We'd gone to Al's home and as both his parents worked, we'd been able to masturbate without interruption. I'd watched, fascinated, as Al was almost a year older than I and more mature. I'd heard of jacking off but had never seen another boy do it, and then I imitated him.

"Hell, I remember too, and I feel like doing it now," he said, and as he spoke I noticed that his hand was moving under the surface of the water. "Come on, want to join me?" he asked as he climbed out of the pool and sat in a deck chair. I sat in the next chair and watched him play with his prick in the dim exterior lighting. It was still soft, possibly because he was worried about how I'd react, but he slowly worked his foreskin back and forth to partly reveal the bulbous head. My hand dropped to my prick and I began rolling the long nipple of my foreskin between thumb and forefinger. His head turned to look.

"That's okay, I don't mind," I said. "Actually I've played with guys a couple of times in the past year. Al seemed relieved at hearing this and confessed:

"Yeah, I've done that too. It's nice beating off together."

"Like we were kids," I replied.

"You always had more skin than I did," he observed. "Even now, you've got an overhang. Mine only goes to the end of the head, and it starts to pull back when I get hard. Does yours?" Al's prick had begun to swell as he worked his foreskin up and down the head, and now more of the head was revealed, even on the up-stroke. "No, mine's long enough to cover the head, even when I'm hard all the way. That extra skin gives me a nice long stroke." As we'd begun the sex talk, my prick had started swelling. I was eager to join him in jacking, and felt the sensations building. "Let's go for it,' he said, and his hand began moving faster on his prick, which was now fully hard. His purple bulb, with its blunt front end, was prominent at the end of his prick, and on each up-stroke he brought the ring of foreskin up to crush the thick rim. "You're ahead of me, I think." As I spoke I increased my pace to keep up with him. The outline of my swollen helmet was clearly visible through my long foreskin, which still covered it. "Gettin' that tingle in the rim," he said. "Just like when we were kids," I replied. "Then you used to say that too."

"You got that tingle, too," he said. "I remember you telling me that when you got close to shooting."

"I think my tip's gonna be tingling soon," I said as I continued to pump my foreskin.

"Man, this is hot," Al whispered as his fist flew up and down his pole, dragging the foreskin back hard and then bringing it up over his rim. I saw his scrotum had drawn tightly against his body.

"You're close now, and I'm going to slow down for a minute to watch you shoot," I said as I relented. I wanted to see how Al ejaculated as an adult.

"Any second, now," Al grunted as he closed his eyes and headed into the final stretch. His tip was fully swollen, but there wasn't enough light to see if the color change had begun. His tip was covered with lube, though, and glistened in the dim light.

"HUH! HUH! HUH!" he cried as the first gush poured from his slit, running down the head and coating his foreskin and trembling, encircling fingers. Al moaned and grunted as successive gushed poured from his prick, totally lost in the sensations of orgasm. I watched avidly as he reveled in self-pleasure, enjoying the moment of release. I'd stopped stroking myself, totally focusing on his ejaculations, until his hand stopped moving and his body began to relax.

"That was quite a show, Al," I said. "You really spurted a lot. It's all over your hand and even in your pubic hair."

After a few seconds he opened his eyes, struggling out of the daze that gripped him after his explosive release. He said:

"Yeah, that was nice. It's always nice. I'm still tingling deep inside. Hope you enjoyed the show." I nodded and said:

"Now I'll shoot for you," as my hand resumed its stroking, and I felt the familiar sensations building in my groin.

"I really want to watch this," he said. I want to see how much of a load you shoot these days."

"I'm getting' that tingle," I said as I felt the sensations building in my prick-head. "Won't be long now." My entire body was tensing in anticipation, as I raced toward my orgasm, not even thinking of prolonging the sensations, only intent on attaining release as soon as possible.

"Your tip's really big inside that skin," he observed as I stroked my prick without drawing the foreskin back at all. My tight fleshy sleeve moved easily over the swollen helmet, filling it with sensation, until I felt the explosion was imminent and my eyes closed.

"HAHHHH! HAHHHH!" I grunted loudly as I felt the first hot torrent squirting into my tube, burning its way up like a stream of lava, almost painful as its stimulation overwhelmed my mind. I felt my crotch muscles contract again, sending another hot stream up my prick. My world had shrunk to just my body, and my consciousness was dominated by the joyful agony of my orgasm as my prick gushed again and again.

My sensations had diminished to weak spasms now, and I knew I was seeping my last drops. I felt myself sinking into the stupor of the after-shock as I relaxed and my breathing returned to normal. When I opened my eyes I saw Al staring at me intently, alternating between my prick and my face.

"I really enjoyed watching your face while you were shooting," he said. "You were really keyed up." A steady stream of white liquid poured from the end of my foreskin, running down my shaft and fingers, forming a puddle in my pubic hairs.

"That was nice," I sighed. My prick was subsiding now, and I saw that Al's had shrunk completely, with the foreskin covering the head to leave only a small opening.

"Let's get in the shower," he suggested. "We'd better wash that stuff off before it dries." He got up and I followed him into the bedroom that opened onto the pool area and the bathroom beyond.

The hot water pouring down on us felt good. We stood facing each other and the water ran down our fronts. Al commented:

"This will rinse the chlorine off our bodies," with a laugh. I knew what he meant, the chlorine from the pool and the chlorine odor from our ejaculations. The hot water was also sluicing down my prick, and I felt a powerful urge to release my bladder.

"Okay if I pee in the shower?" I asked. "That beer we drank just caught up to me." When Al nodded, I pinched the end of my foreskin nipple and we both watched as it began to fill, distending until the shape of my helmet disappeared.

"I figured you'd do that," he said, "with that long skin of yours. Well, look, I can do it too." He grasped his foreskin, stretching it out beyond the end of his shrunken prick, and I watched it distend into a ball shape, hiding the contours of his glans. I released my foreskin and a thick yellow gush poured from it, spraying our legs. Now Al released his distended hood and his spray poured over us both. I pinched mine again, because I wasn't finished, and a second later Al's fingers closed around the end of his hood as well. Both foreskins filled with urine, and then we let go to watch the sprays erupt over us again.

"I always did that in the shower," I said.

"With that long skin of yours, I'm not surprised."

"My foreskin's always been tight, and this is how I loosened it up. Can you believe that once I couldn't get it back off the head?"

"With that big head of yours, I'm not surprised at that either. You can skin it back now, right?" I drew my foreskin back as my stream dribbled off to reveal the glans.

"Man, your tip's got a nice helmet shape," he said. "I really like that flaring rim, the way

it turns up at the edge. That looks really nice."

"Let's see yours," I suggested. "You're going to have to skin back to rinse off the pee anyway." Al grasped his foreskin at the back of the glans and pulled toward his body, drawing the hood completely off the bulging head.

"Show and tell, huh?" he said as he proudly displayed his big purple tip.

"You've got a mushroom type," I observed. "You've got a big blunt tip and it comes straight back on top."

"Yeah, but the rim doesn't flare like yours does. Does your skin stay back when you let go?" I released my prick to show him, and we watched my foreskin bunch up against my rim in a thick fleshy collar.

"See? It locks back behind my rim, even when I'm soft."

"Mine does too. My rim doesn't flare, but it's high, and there's a deep groove behind it." He released his hood and it butted up against his corona in a thick ring of skin.

"That looks nice too," I said. "I think your prick's a little longer than mine. I've got just a little over six inches."

"Mine's closer to seven," he said. "They're the same thickness, though. You've got that big vein on the right side."

You've got a couple of smaller veins along the top."

"I guess we're all clean now. Let's get dry and we can relax and talk." He turned off the water and we climbed out. We dried ourselves, but when he suggested that he dry my back for me, I didn't object, but did the same for him a minute later. The feel of his body through the terrycloth gave me a particular satisfaction.

We went out to the kitchen, where Al took two longnecks from the refrigerator and we sat at the table. We lit cigarettes and exchanged experiences.

"I think I enjoy beating off more now than when I was younger," he said. "Back then the big thing was getting laid, but I don't think that's all it's cracked up to be."

"I know what you mean. I enjoyed regular sex, but I've got to tell you that my most intense orgasms were from stroking."

"I really enjoy stroking, but the hottest comes I had were when another guy was doing it to me. It's different when it's not your own hand." As he spoke, he reached down to squeeze his big mushroom through the covering skin. His balls were loose on the seat in front of him, but I knew his scrotum wouldn't remain slack for long.

"Depends on the guy," I said. "I've had a few experiences with guys lately but I found that cut guys really don't know how to handle foreskins."

"Hey, you got that right. They're too rough. They don't understand how sensitive a natural dick is. They're just like women. Women don't know how to make a cock feel really good."

"Yep, that's been my experience with women too," I agreed. "One woman freaked out when she found out I wasn't cut. She thought all men were, and she didn't know what to do with the foreskin."

"That happened to me too," Al said. This woman I met, a friend's sister, was pretty nice all round, but when we got into bed and she felt my joint, she asked me what was wrong with my dick. She'd never even seen a real cock before." By now our sex talk and casual handling had given me a funny tingle in my groin.

"One thing's sure," I said. "You and I would know what to do with each other's foreskins."

"Those times, we watched each other do it, but never did it to each other," he observed.

"You're right, Al. I guess we were scared or something. I think I'd enjoy it if we did it to each other now. After all, how long have we known each other?" Our pricks were still soft as I spoke, although I knew this would soon change. I let my hand drop into my lap and began rolling my long foreskin nipple between two fingers.

Al reached over and pushed my hand away to grasp the end of my foreskin exactly the way I'd been holding it. As he rolled the nipple between his thumb and index finger, he said:

"Let me do that. I always wanted to feel your dick getting hard inside that long skin." I grasped his, as he'd removed his hand to give me access, and began stripping his foreskin up and down gently. I knew the mild sliding friction would get him hard quickly.

"You have a big head on yours," I remarked. "I can really feel it through the skin."

"I can feel yours too. I can even see the shape through your skin," he replied.

"You always stroke with your skin back," I said. "Yours doesn't cover all the way when you're hard." Now Al's prick was fully erect, and the most I could pull his foreskin was half-way up the big mushroom head.

"I saw you stroking with your skin covering it," he said. I guess you don't watch the tip shoot."

"I can't," I said. "My eyes close when I come, just like yours. I was looking at your face and I noticed that."

"Well, now we'll make each other come, and we'll be able to watch each other shoot," he said. "Mind if I skin you back when you get close? I'd really like to see you shoot your spunk from that big helmet." As he spoke, he slipped my foreskin all the way down, revealing the big purple tip.

"You normally shoot or dribble?" I asked. "The few times I've been able to watch, I've just dribbled when I did myself. A couple of times when another guy did me, my prick shot hard, he said. I didn't see it because my eyes were closed."

"I dribble too," he answered. "just like you saw outside. I didn't see it, but I could feel it dribbling. I don't know what I do when someone else does me. I never asked. Anyway, I wanted to get a close look at your tip. You've seen mine."

"Like what you see?" I asked.

"Bet I do. I'd never seen your cock skinned back close up before, only when we showered back in school. You really matured. That's a man-sized helmet you've got. It's different from my mushroom shape. Even your slit's different. It looks like a teardrop, not a slit."

"It pouts when the head swells," I explained. When my prick's soft, it looks just like yours, although not as long." Al leaned his head closer, turning my prick slightly.

"You've got those little bumps back of your ridge," he said. "My brother had those too. He said they were the nerve endings. I guess mine are buried in the skin because they don't stick out like yours do."

"You really get off inspecting my prick, don't you?" I asked, rhetorically. Al answered me literally:

"I don't mind telling you I do. I like to see and handle a well-formed dick. Yours looks like its got character." I was still holding Al's shaft in my hand, exerting traction to keep his big mushroom exposed. I saw that a drop of clear fluid had parted the lips of his long slit.

"Can I get a closer look at your prick? It turns me on." Al leaned back to give me a better look, and resumed working my foreskin in slow, languorous strokes. I took a good look at his equipment.

"Take your time," he said. "We're in no hurry. Maybe if we take our time, we'll come really hard. You find that taking your time makes it hotter?"

"I do," I replied. "I found that the longer the build-up, the more intense it is when I finally come."

"Yeah, outside was just a quickie," Al delivered in judgment. "If we make it last now, we'll really blow our loads."

"I'm for that," I agreed. "Now that I'm looking at this beautiful equipment, I'm glad we met today. Your mushroom head's a nice purple color, and it gets darker around the rim. Right around your slit, though, it's pinkish purple."

"Yours is the same way. Your helmet's light pink-purple around the slit, and gets dark purple at the rim."

"The nose of your glans is blunter than mine," I continued. "Your tip doesn't have the same taper. Your ridge is just as high, though it doesn't flare. Your slit's longer, and you lube a lot more than I do."

"I guess you're right," Al agreed. "Anyway, I'm glad you said my dick turns you on. That means a lot to me."

Your balls hang down more than mine," I added.

"Yeah, I've got low hangers. I noticed yours are pretty tight, all the time."

"They've always been this way. Tight foreskin, tight balls. The tight scrotum doesn't bother me, though. My foreskin was tight when I was young, but I worked it loose through exercise," I said laughing.

"Lots of exercise, I bet," Al laughed. "I gave mine lots of exercise too."

"Yours isn't as tight as mine. It slips back pretty easily, even when you're hard."

"That it does," Al replied. "I noticed your skin was tight when I pulled it back a minute ago. It really hugs the head. Does that feel better to you?" He worked my foreskin up and down a few times, giving me a thrill with each stroke.

"Well, the tightness adds pressure on the head. That certainly feels better. What really feels good is feeling your fingers on my prick," I said as I worked his foreskin up and down.

"You said I lube a lot more than you. Your helmet and skin seem kinda dry. Want to have some of my lube to help you?" he asked.

"That would help," I replied.

"Okay, stand up." Al was about my height, and when we stood to face each other he was easily able to bring his big mushroom head against mine. Holding my foreskin tightly back, he circled my helmet with his wet, glistening tip, and then drew my foreskin forward again to spread the wetness over my glans.

"Oh, that feels better," I said. "I feel more comfortable with the foreskin well lubed."

"I'll give you a little more," he said as he again drew back my foreskin. Now he milked his prick with a finger pressed firmly into the underside to bring up the slippery liquid inside his urethra, and dribbled it onto the broad upper surface of my glans. He worked my foreskin forward, spreading the viscous fluid evenly over the head, and then sat down again.

"That made it really smooth," I remarked as his expert fingers once more began their rhythmic stroking of my foreskin. "It feels very good now." I grasped his prick and resumed working his foreskin over his rim, bringing it back sharply on each down-stroke.

"Oh, that feels nice, the way you're doing it," he sighed. "I like the way you jerk my skin down. It gives me a hot thrill around the neck of my dick."

"That's the way it's supposed to feel. I'm hitting your ridge on the way up, and stretching your foreskin's nerve endings when I pull it down."

"That's going to make me come pretty fast," he said as he continued to stroke my foreskin, which now slid smoothly up and down my helmet from the end down to the flaring rim.

"Maybe you ought to come first," I suggested. "That way, I'll be able to watch and feel you come while my eyes are still open."

"That's gonna be a real turn-on for you. I can tell," he said. "I hope you don't blast off at the same time."

"Just go easy on the stroking," I said as I picked up the pace on his prick. Now his scrotum was drawn up tightly against his body, and I knew he wasn't far from release.

"Okay, but I'd like to hold on to your joint while you're stroking me," he replied. "Feeling your hard prick's a real turn-on for me, especially the way your skin slides."

"That's fine," I advised. "Slide my skin, but don't squeeze and don't do it too fast." I felt the pressure of his fingers around my prick lessen, and his pace slowed. Meanwhile, I squeezed his mushroom head tighter through the skin.

"You're givin' me that tingly feeling in the rim," he whispered.

"And your balls are tight against your body," I contributed.

"So tingly..." he trailed off.

"I can feel the head's getting harder through the foreskin," I commented. "It's getting darker too." A steady stream of lubricant continued to flow from the long lips of his slit, fueled by his mounting excitement.

"It feels so swollen, like it's gonna explode," he whispered as his eyes closed. "Just do me, let me shoot on the floor. It's tile, anyway." His glossy mushroom seemed to quiver in the bright kitchen light as I stroked his foreskin against it, and when I pulled back it was revealed in all its glory. The muscles in his face tightened, and I knew he was right on the edge.

"Relax, relax," I urged as I slowed my pace. I wanted him to remain on the verge of orgasm as long as possible, until his body would respond automatically and release his fluid in a hot explosive blast. He was poised on the edge, his entire body tensed, anticipating the hot contractions that would start him on his plunge into the free-fall of orgasm.

"HUNNNNHHHH!" he cried out as the first heavy pulse in his shaft hammered against my encircling fingers. A heavy stream of white cream slammed through the lips of his slit, parting them to shoot two feet before landing on the cold tiles. His body strained in the chair as he gripped the arms convulsively, overwhelmed by the hot sensations, and another eruption shot from the end of his mushroom to arc onto the floor.

AAAAGGHHHH!" he cried again, helpless against the blissful agony that flooded his body. His hard prick throbbed in my hand as I brought his foreskin up to bump against his rim, sending him into another explosive spasm. As I drew his foreskin back hard, I saw that the mushroom head was an angry dark purple, and I felt it throbbing with passion.

Al grunted loudly as another hot stream erupted from his throbbing tip, and his legs splayed out uncontrollably. Another hot discharge shot from his slit, spreading the lips into an oval. Al's body shuddered again and another gush poured out, but not as forcefully this time. Several more loads of white fluid flowed from his tip, filling the air with the familiar odor of chlorine, before he was still.

I held his now still prick in my hand, watching the residual oozing from his slit as his shaft began to soften between my fingers. Al was totally still, exhausted by the frenzy of the orgasm that had consumed him, and rapidly sinking into the torpor of the afterglow. As his prick shrunk, I eased the foreskin down over the head to protect the sensitive tip before letting go. His hand had slipped from my prick, and was hanging at his side as he let his head fall back.

I got up, my hard prick swinging side to side in front of me as I walked over to the counter to gather some paper towels. While Al was still out of it, I wiped the copious pools of cream he'd shot onto the floor. Then I knelt before him and reached under his still tight sac to press a fingertip into his urethra and force the residue forward. Milking his shaft, I dabbed at the orifice of his foreskin to catch the ooze that flowed from it. His foreskin covered the head completely, but did not close completely at the end and I could see the opening in his glans through the slot. The lips parted slightly as the residue oozed from them, and I caught it in the paper towels. Al opened his eyes while I finished wiping him and said:

"That was some wild ride. I really came hard."

"You really shot, too. You weren't dribbling until the end," I assured him. "I can imagine how intense it was for you."

"Intense! Man, I was floating! When my dick started throbbing, I didn't know where I was. I felt your fingers on my dick, and the way you were stroking me made my tip feel like it was on fire."

"You shot two feet, at least. Maybe you can still see where it's a little wet where I wiped it off the floor."

"I'll take your word for it," he said. "I'd believe you if you said I shot a mile. It felt like my dick was exploding. My tip was tingling all the time and each time I felt a load shoot through it I thought I was dying."

"I know how hot it was for you. I felt your prick throb in my hand, and saw every spurt you shot. You were moaning like you were in pain and your body was shuddering."

"It was almost painful," he said. "Each load I shot burned."

"Well, I'm glad I was able to do it for you," I reassured him. "I was so excited watching and feeling you come I almost shot my load too."

"I'm glad you didn't," he replied. "If you'd creamed right then, I wouldn't be able to watch you now." As he spoke, he reached for my penis.

"I like the feel of your fingers around me," I murmured, giving in to the excitement.

"Your penis hasn't softened a bit," he commented.

"No, I'm really hot from watching you. It won't take much to make me come." His skilled fingers began maneuvering my foreskin expertly, twisting it as he drew it down, accentuating the delicious friction around my crown.

"I'm going to pump your skin and then when you're ready to come I'll pull it down so I can watch your tip explode. I missed that show last time because you had your skin forward."

`You're already making me tingle," I said. I felt the tension building in my body as I spoke. Now Al's fingers were pulling my long foreskin all the way over the end of my glans to form a tight pucker, and then pulling it down to stretch over my flaring rim and snap down into the deep groove behind it. When he pulled it up again, the thick fleshy ring compressed the nerve endings in my corona, sending a thrill down my shaft.

"A little faster now," he explained as his fingers worked my foreskin more energetically. "I'll get you to the edge and keep you there as long as I can." He was as good as his word, and my prick responded as his fingers worked to excite it.

"Feels good..." I trailed off.

"I can feel your dick-head getting' harder through the skin," he commented. "It's nice and slippery."

"Ohhhhh," I moaned as the sensations built.

"There, I know it feels good. You're gettin' close." The intense friction of my foreskin against my glans increased as he expertly twisted it around my corona.

"You really know what you're doin'," I whispered.

"Your tip's darker now," he said as he stripped my foreskin all the way back to reveal it down to the corona. Your rim's really swollen now."

"Ohhhhhhhhhh," I moaned again, my excitement building to an almost unbearable level.

"When I see your eyes close I'll keep you stripped back so I can watch your big helmet shoot." I moaned again.

"Just try to stay relaxed," he urged. "I'm gonna try to make this last for you." He firmly nudged my foreskin up to cover my tip completely. Now my eyes closed involuntarily.

"Now feel the skin going back, back, slowly," he said. I felt my tight foreskin stretching as he slid it back over the immensely swollen head.

"Your helmet's really hard now, not soft and spongy anymore," he commented, and as he spoke I felt a fingertip touch my tip, pressing against the broad upper surface, the touch sending hot sparks of sensation stabbing deeply into my glans. I cried out, and felt a warning throb deep inside me.

"Now I'm gonna bump your rim and then pull the skin back hard," he explained. "I know what that does for you." I felt the shock wave of sensations as he bumped my thick fleshy collar against my swollen rim, and then pulled back hard, stretching the skin almost painfully. My body began to shudder and my legs spread. I felt him cup my balls with his other hand. I felt myself withdrawing from the world, my mind totally focused on the delicious sensations in my prick.

HUNHHHH!" I grunted hard as I felt the first sharp contraction deep inside me, a spasm that sent the first torrent of hot cream into my urethra. My load burned like hot lava as it sped up my tube towards the teardrop shaped exit in my glans, and I cried out again.

Al said something unintelligible as he stroked my foreskin fully forward over my straining glans, and another hot gush poured through my tube to shoot into the air. I cried out helplessly, awash in blissful agony.

I felt Al pumping my foreskin up and down, adding to the avalanche of sensations that fueled the frenzy of my orgasm, and I shot again. Hard throbs filled my glans, shaft, and cock-root.

I lost track of my spasms, of time, and became totally disoriented and lost in the mind-numbing limbo of orgasm. I was ware only of the burning streams of liquid shooting through my pulsing prick and aching glans.

The sensations diminished, and I realized that my orgasm was ending. A few feeble pulses deep inside me sent the last of my cream oozing up my tube, and then it was over, really over. I slumped in the chair totally dazed.

Faintly I felt Al's fingers handling my prick, reaching past my tight scrotum, and squeezing my shaft. After awhile I realized that he was milking me as I'd done with him. As I gradually returned to full consciousness, I opened my eyes. Al spoke first:

"Jack, you really came. You shot maybe two feet too. I watched your face, and watched every load shoot out of that beautiful purple tip. I guarantee you, if I hadn't just come, I'd have shot my load right then."

"It felt so good, Al. You made it feel so intense."

"I know what you mean, Jack. You just did the same for me."

"I'm glad I did, Al."

"I mean it, Jack. Your cock felt so alive, hard and throbbing and shooting."

"We'll have to do this again," I said. Al nodded fervently.

End of Part 1