Reunion With Ken By Jackinnm@yahoo.com
That Saturday I'd sat down with a cup of coffee in the eatery connected with the Barnes & Noble bookstore and was starting on a book I'd just bought. It dealt with bias in the media, and the first few pages turned out to be very interesting. A tall handsome guy about 40-ish (my age) leaned over me.
"Looks like an interesting book. I just bought the same thing." He had brown hair and eyes, just like mine, and I invited him to sit down, as I always enjoy speaking with another book lover.
"So far, so good. I'm only a few pages into it, but I think you'll like it too." A broad smile lit up his face.
"Glad to hear it. I always wondered how accurate the stories we read in the news are, and how much TV slants the news." I looked straight at him and said:
"I feel the same way. I've often thought some of the stories were really one-sided, especially the ones on touchy issues." We continued our discussion along the same vein, and I looked at him carefully, wondering if I'd seen him before.
"You from New York City?" I asked.
"Yep. Came to Albuquerque five years ago because I was tired of the dirt, the rush, and the hassle. You?"
"Born and raised there. I haven't been back and I don't miss it. I've been here ten years." Suddenly, I thought I recognized him.
"Did you attend Benedict Arnold High School, class of '56?" I asked.
"Yes, I did. You?" He was staring at me intently now, struggling to recover long-dimmed memories.
"Me too," I replied. "I guess you don't recognize me. I'm Jack Santoro. I've changed a lot, but you look pretty much the same, despite the years." It turned out that we'd both been married and divorced, and neither of us had had any children. He worked as an engineer, while I was a middle-level administrator.
"Want to come over to my place?" he asked suddenly. "It's surely more comfortable there. I live only a few blocks away." I got up to follow him and we drove to his house. He lived in a single-family house on a tree lined street a few blocks north of the shopping center, and when we entered I found that the house was comfortably cool, despite the summer heat. Inside, he stood to face me.
"Feel like taking a shower? It'll feel good after that heat outside." His eyes bored into mine with an unspoken question.
"I took one two hours ago. What about you?" I asked.
"Yeah, me too, right after breakfast."
"Then why don't we just get naked? We don't really need a shower right now, and we'll save some water. I'll feel more comfortable being naked with you. We don't have anything to hide, anyway." He turned and led me into his bedroom, where we began removing our light summer clothing. As we stripped, I looked at him carefully, remembering how I'd looked at him in the locker room, admiring his build and the handsome cock that arced over his low hanging balls. He was looking at me, too, with great interest.
"I remember you had one of the few foreskins in the locker room," he said. "Not many of us around these days."
"That's what got my attention when I first saw you, Ken," I said. "That, and the way the head of your dick made a big bulge in your smooth skin. Yours has a long nipple in front of the head, like mine." I'd always been fascinated by the way the sharp outline of his flaring corona showed clearly through the thick smooth covering skin of his penis, and the underside of the head created a thick bump underneath. His penis was bigger than mine limp, and I wondered what it would be like erect.
"Yours has a nice bulge too, and I can tell you're a helmet-head, just like me." He took a couple of steps toward me.
"Can I touch it?" I asked, not doubting for a moment what his answer would be. He nodded, and I rolled the nipple of his long thick foreskin between thumb and forefinger, feeling his glans slide around inside its fleshy shroud as his penis bulked up under my touch. His fingers closed around my prick, squeezing the head through the thick foreskin, and I felt the rush of blood into my swelling cock. We sat on the edge of the bed, and our pricks came to full attention. I saw that his erection was somewhat longer than my six inches, and that the long hood still covered the head, like mine.
"Yours has a straight shaft, like mine, and also a big vein on the right," he said. "You've also got a lot of skin. Lucky you still have it."
"I'm glad you still have yours," I said. "Some uncut guys in our class got clipped, even when they were older. Remember Marty? They got him when he was 15, and he had a bandage around his prick. He got excused from P. T. for a couple of weeks."
"I wouldn't let a doctor get near my foreskin," he said with a grin. "I've had too much fun with it all these years." I felt a wet slipperiness in my fingertips, and saw that he'd begun to seep copiously. The rich masculine odor filled the room.
"Wow, your prick juices a lot," I remarked. "I like the way yours smells. Mine is almost always dry." I grasped his shaft with my other hand to steady it and began to run my fingertip around the edge of his foreskin pucker I knew the delicate touch was sending exquisite messages of joy into his nervous system..
"That feels really nice, Jack. Like what I'm doing to yours?"
"Yeah, Ken. Every squeeze makes my cock-root throb." Ken's other hand slipped between my thighs, lightly tickling the hairs on my ball-sac and making me sigh in delight. Now I stretched his foreskin out as far as it would go, and as the stretching skin tinned the outline of his shapely helmet became more sharply defined through the skin. Ken did the same to mine, grasping the end of the nipple and pulling it away from my body as far as it would go. He had a delicate touch, and knew just how much to pull without causing me discomfort.
"You're lucky to have a big head on yours," I told him. "That'll feel really good when I start stretching the foreskin back over it." I shifted my grip and began stretching the skin back towards his body, uncovering the long slit. My right index finger traced the edge of his foreskin, stimulating the stretched nerve endings.
"Oh, yeah, Jack, that feels really erotic." I slipped his foreskin forward again, allowing the puckered end to close over his glans, and then pulled back a bit harder.
"Is your tip very sensitive? Can I touch it with my fingertip or is it too sensitive?"
"No, go right ahead. It'll feel very good." I was glad Ken didn't have a "firecracker glans," too sensitive to touch directly. As the circle of foreskin widened, I ran my fingertip in small circles around his long slit, spreading the seeping viscous fluid over the sensitive surface and making him draw a deep breath. I inhaled deeply, irresistibly attracted to the odor of his foreskin and glans.
"Just lie back," I urged. "I want you to relax and enjoy the sensations." Ken lay back on the bed, still holding on to my prick with his left hand as I eased myself into position on his left. Now I pushed his hood forward again, watching as it slid downhill to engulf his glans, and then pulled it back a bit farther to expose about half of the deep purple helmet. I ran my finger in circles around the exposed dome, caressing the sensitive nerve endings that were tightly stretched with the swelling of his glans.
"Use your tongue," he whispered." I pulled his foreskin forward again to allow it to relax before stretching it back again, this time a bit farther to bare the twin lobes of his glans and the sensitive gee-string that lay between them, attaching the foreskin.
"That'll be for next time," I whispered back, totally engrossed in working on his rock-hard penis. I pushed his hood forward over the big head, and then stretched it back again, slowly, to let him feel every nuance of sensation as I stretched the nerve endings of the sensitive hood. My forefinger followed the edge of his foreskin, traveling in circles to run around the circumference of his engorged cock-head. Ken had begun to gasp and moan as the hot sensations drilled into his penis. His scrotum tightened against his body.
"You're going to make me come this way," he said between gasps. His hand still clasped my prick, but he was barely moving the skin, and I knew that holding it was arousing him even more.
"I want you to come. Just relax and let me do the work." Now I pushed his hood forward again over the big head, docking my fingertip. With his foreskin fully forward, I ran my finger around the head, stimulating both glans and foreskin with friction as I stretched the skin with my probing fingers. Ken by now as gasping loudly, "HAH! HAH! HAH!" as I caressed his hot hard tip and the inside of his foreskin, and stretched the nerve endings in his hood. I saw his stomach muscles tighten, and heard him whisper between gasps:
"I'm close^Å. Sooo close^Å" His foreskin slid easily back over the engorged head. I stripped his hood back all the way to bare the big purple helmet and the fingertips of my right hand traced the head's contours, making him shudder. I saw his purple helmet turn darker, and its surface hardened under my fingers.
"Relax, Ken, just try to relax. Relaxing will make it last longer." I stretched the skin hard back off the head, laying open his high flaring corona and the deep groove behind it, and my fingertips followed, probing behind his rim to stimulate nerve endings that rarely saw the light of day. I felt him shudder, saw his eyes close, and knew he wasn't going to last much longer.
"HAH! HAH! HAH!" I heard him grunt. I felt the throbs in his swollen tip, and decided to try something else. Holding his foreskin tightly back, I snapped my finger against the top side of the head, then snapped it again against the round front dome. He cried out each time, the hot jolts of sensation making him quiver. I resumed massaging the glistening wet head with my fingertips, working down to massage his gee-string, then around the swollen rim, then working my palm over the rounded front of his slippery, throbbing glans.
"HUNH! HUNH!" he cried out as his prick throbbed hard in my hand. A heavy jet shot from his slit, hitting the palm of my hand, and I quickly spread it over his throbbing tip. A heavy chlorine odor filled the air. I encircled his glans with my fingers, twisting them to give him extra sensations around the rim, and saw the lips of his slit part as another jet slammed through them to arc high in the air and land on his stomach. His legs trembled and his slit widened again to release another heavy jet as he shouted in agonized joy. His engorged tip spewed again, this time a spray that fell onto my hands, his pubic hair, and stomach.
Now his jets were weakening, and I felt he was close to the end. Thinking his glans might become super-sensitive any moment, I stopped my finger stroking and began sliding his hood up and down the head, giving him softer sensations that still maintained the momentum of his climax. His prick throbbed a few more times, dribbling white fluid onto my fingers, then became still. I pulled the heavy foreskin forward to cover the still swollen glans, and laid it on his stomach.
"That was hot," he said weakly, still dazed by the impact of the rush of sensations that had overwhelmed him. I went to the adjoining bathroom for a towel and returned to wipe his stomach and pubic area, staying away from his penis for the moment. Then I milked the underside of his shaft, pressing in a fingertip to propel the last drops from his tube. The pucker in the front of his foreskin filled with cream, and I dabbed at it. Ken opened his eyes and stared at me.
"Now it's your turn," he said. "You just gave me a hell of an orgasm, and I want you to feel the same sensations." I lay back, and Ken picked up my still hard prick. His fingers began twisting the foreskin around the head, heightening my arousal, and I relaxed to let him do what he wished. I knew that staying relaxed would prolong the anticipation, while if I allowed my muscles to tighten, I'd come more quickly. I wanted to enjoy the ride, not rush headlong over the precipice.
"That feels great," I said. I felt his fingers testing the tension in my foreskin, pushing it back slowly over the head.
"Your skin's tighter than mine," he said. "Does it go back all the way?" I was surprised at the question, as my foreskin had always gone back as long as I could remember, but then realized that his was looser than mine, explaining his doubt.
"Yeah, it goes back, no problem. You going to do the same to me?"
"No, I've got something different planned for you." He leaned over to the bedside table.
"I'm going to use my vibrator on you. Ever use one?"
"Yeah, I've got one too. It's great." "Well, mine's a custom job. It's a plug-in model, not like those weak battery jobs, but I've got a special cup for it." He lifted a bell-shaped device into my field of view.
"The cups you get with a vibrator kit are one-size-fits-all. They're too small for guys with big helmets like you and me, so I made a special one I molded to fit my tip. Your tip and mine are so much alike that I'm sure mine will fit yours perfectly. If you look here, you'll see the cup even has a flange that drops down behind the rim, so it stimulates the whole head, not just the front. I'll pour a little lube into the cup so it'll slip on easier."
"Now I have to skin you back all the way to slip on the cup. That's why I asked you if it goes all the way back." His fingers began to ease my foreskin back over the swollen head in short twisting motions that added to the sensation of friction, stretching the nerve endings in my foreskin sideways as well as outward. A moan escaped my lips.
"Hey, you slit's different from mine," he exclaimed. "Looks like a teardrop shape, and I can see right down into the hole. That's cute." His fingers slipped my hood forward again, then twisted it back, stretching the nerve endings and making my hard prick throb. "I love that deep purple color," he added. He slipped the foreskin forward again, and then pushed it back farther.
"Third time's the charm," he said as he pushed my foreskin back over the flaring rim to let it snap down into the deep groove behind it. "Man, that's really thick," he added. "Your skin makes a thick ring just behind the rim."
"Yeah, my skin always locks back behind the flare when I pull it back all the way," I said.
"Now I have to stretch it back just a bit more, so the flange of the bell will fit into your groove." His fingers tugged harder, and I felt my skin stretching tightly, the nerve endings singing and sending messages of joy to my brain.
"Ooohhh, that feels good, stretching that skin," I said as his fingers worked expertly to slide my thick fleshy collar back from my corona. Now something hard pressed against my glans, and I felt its edge scrape deliciously against my rim. I looked and saw the bell totally covering my cock-head, and Ken jiggling it to make sure it was perfectly aligned. Now he pressed the vibrator's stud into the fitting on the cup.
"Brace yourself. I'm going to turn it on and you're going to get the ride of your life. It's going to hit all your nerve endings at once. I saw his finger press the button on the vibrator's body, and suddenly my cock began to buzz with overpowering sensations. My glans began to buzz with the vibrator's bell, from round front dome right back to the flaring rim.
"Feel that? The vibrations are going inside your cock-head too." The vibrator's powerful buzzing spread all over my trapped glans, and traveled into my bunched-up foreskin behind it. The buzzing wasn't only on the surface, but deep inside the head. I felt my tip expand even more, pressing hard against the rigid walls of the bell that encased it and spread hot sensations deep inside it. The nerve endings in my penis, which had not exactly been asleep, awakened to powerful new sensations, and my cock-root tightened involuntarily as the waves traveled down my shaft and spread all through my crotch. I felt the vibrations in my balls, and my eyes snapped shut.
"Feel it?" Ken cried joyously, pressing the vibrator harder against my swollen tip. I heard myself crying out in mindless ecstasy in the distance, and a powerful throbbing began in my cock-root as my body gave in to the overpowering sensations. My crotch convulsed, and expelled a heavy stream that burned its way like hot lava up my tube, flooding the bell but not softening the intense buzzing. I cried out again as another hot jet surged up my urethra, to emerge trapped inside the bell.
"You're really gushing," I heard Ken say. "It's leaking out around the edges." I shot again, a powerful jet that stretched my urethra and added to the volume inside the bell. My prick throbbed again, and I was rocking my head from side to side in joyful agony as the overwhelming sensations filled my body. My whole world was centered in my glans, and I felt it throbbing and expanding against the hard, buzzing inside surface of the bell.
I lost track of time, but became aware that the buzzing had stopped, and so had the hard throbs in my cock-root. My prick was still throbbing lightly, and I felt the last drops crawling up my urethra. After a while, my penis began to shrink, and Ken lifted the bell from my tip. I smelled the heavy chlorine odor of my ejaculations as the delicious languor of the afterglow spread all over my body. The tension left me, and I sank into a semi-stupor, dazed by the power of the orgasm. I felt his hand slide my hood forward to cover the shrinking tip as he wiped the residue from it, then milked my shaft to expel the last drops.
The end