Sexy Weekend

By Jack Santoro

Published on Jun 30, 2005

Gay

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Sexy Weekend By Jackinnm@yahoo.com

I'd met David during a business trip to his city, when I was referred to him by a mutual friend who shared our interest in safe sex. David had retired early, after making a killing in the stock market, and was at home when I drove up that Thursday evening. It turned out he was exactly my age, 60, but had more hair than I. He was slightly shorter than my six feet, slightly stockier, and had a warm, friendly manner that put me at ease immediately. David showed me to his guest room, well-equipped with a queen-size bed, and when I informed him that I'd had dinner while still on the road wished me a good night, stating that I'd better be fresh for my series of business meetings the next day. He added that I should stay the weekend with him, as he wanted me to try his pool and hot tub, as well getting to know him better. Friday morning he had coffee ready for me when I awoke, and soon I was cleaned up and on my way. I'd told him I'd be back by four at the latest, and then we could relax before I began the drive home Sunday afternoon. My business that day went very well, and just before four I was ringing David's bell again. He was wearing a bathrobe when he answered, and suggested that I jump into the pool with him as soon as I was undressed. He meant that literally, as his back yard had a high fence, preventing anyone from peering into it, because David enjoyed sunbathing nude. I doffed my clothes in two minutes flat, and we went into the pool. In the few seconds I had to see before we were under water, I noted that David's penis, like mine, had escaped the knife, and the head was covered with a sleeve of sensitive, flexible skin. This was reassuring, because now I was sure we each would know how to handle the other's cock. After lolling around for half an hour, during which he elicited from me the fact that I enjoyed martinis, as he did, David suggested we try the hot tub. I was happy to get into the 104-degree water, because the pool had become slightly chilly. David went into the house and returned with two martinis on the rocks, which we enjoyed while immersed in the hot water. We inevitably began talking about or sexual developments. David told me he'd had his first orgasm at age 12, as I had, by self-stimulation. We'd both enjoyed masturbation, alone or with a partner, more than other forms of sexual expression. We agreed that women, on the average, don't know how to handle a cock for maximum pleasure. I felt his fingers close around my cock as we spoke, making my well-lubricated head slosh around inside its fleshy envelope. "I like that," he said. "Your cock has a big head on it." I wrapped my hand around his cock, feeling it grow between my fingers. We didn't work each other up to full-hard, but the mutual exploration was both stimulating and relaxing. It didn't take long for us to finish the martinis and to decide we'd had enough of the very hot water, and we went into David's bathroom to towel ourselves dry. We took the opportunity to inspect each other more closely. The hot water had made the smooth muscles in our genitals relax, and our balls were hanging as low as they ever would. Our foreskins also were relaxed, and both orifices were almost gaping. I noted that David's flaccid prick seemed to be a bit shorter than mine, possibly because mine had a long, funnel-shaped foreskin projecting beyond the glans in a thick nipple. David's fleshy foreskin ended right at the tip of his glans, and when he lifted his prick to show me, I saw the pee-hole through the orifice. His cock-head had a nice-sized ridge on it, which showed clearly through the ample hood. He led the way to his king-size bed, saying that I was perfectly welcome to spend the night with him, or sleep in the other bedroom. We sat facing each other on the bed, legs parted, his thighs over mine. He reached out to roll my foreskin nipple between thumb and forefinger, while I squeezed his bulky glans through the enveloping hood. This stimulation had immediate effect, because our cocks began swelling. David caressed my engorging cock-ridge with his other hand, watching as my prick lengthened within its foreskin. David's prick, on the other hand, seemed to be growing out of his foreskin. David's emerging glans was wet with dew, shiny and awaiting my caresses. I steadied it with one hand and placed a fingertip on the blunt nose, right over the pouting hole, to spread the slippery liquid over his sensitive tissues. His cock was now full-hard, and the foreskin had stripped back to lie inverted over the shaft behind his high, flaring ridge. Now I saw the biggest difference between our male organs. His was more of a "grower" than mine, almost seven inches erect, while mine was only about six. This, plus my greater foreskin length, explained why his prick had slipped out of its foreskin while my hood covered my fully swollen shaft and glans right to the end. "Nice prick, nice foreskin," he commented, as he jiggled my hood back and forth, slightly stretching the orifice with each back-stroke. I pulled back hard on his flesh, and watched the big, helmet-shaped glans dip as the gee-string tugged it down. The warm, masculine odor of his cock reached my nostrils, and i inhaled happily. "You've got a big tip, I think bigger than mine," he said, gently tugging the hood down so that the blunt nose of my helmet appeared. "That's a nice tear-drop shaped meatus you've got, and I'll bet it shoots big jets when the moment's right," he said. David's pee-hole had pouted into an oval shape, filled with clear lube, which I spread lovingly over his glans. I tugged his skin forward, and found that I was able only to bump his corona with it. "Your skin's pretty tight when you're hard. I think I'd like to give you direct action on the head," I suggested. "Sure," he replied, "but use some of that lubricant on the table. My lube tends to dry out with the foreskin all the way back." I picked up the small bottle of silicon oil and decanted a few drops onto his swollen glans, making sure it was coated from the blunt dome back to the deep groove behind the flaring corona. David shivered as my fingers caressed his sensitive ridge and probed into the groove, and his hand squeezed my hard prick convulsively. I used light, fingertip strokes on his glans and the surrounding sensitive tissues, knowing that heavy friction would desensitize the nerve endings somewhat. I also wanted to use a light, almost teasing touch because I wanted it to last, giving him a slow build-up that would make him explode when he finally came. David now had my prick solidly in his fist, and was stroking the hood all the way back, then all the way forward, baring my glans to the root, then covering it fully on the return. "That's a big, big head on your cock," he said. "It looks like it makes up one-third of your cock length." I knew it did, because I'd measured it, and found that from dome to ridge, my glans measured a full two inches. "You're right," I replied. Now a heavy stream of lubricant flowed from my hole, bathing the glans and foreskin and overflowing onto his warm, encircling fingers. Suddenly, he stopped. "Would you like a snake-bite?" he asked. I knew what he meant, holding my cock between the palms of his hands and working them in opposite directions to twist my foreskin side to side over the head. "This'll give you a super-hot climax," he promised. I knew it would, having experienced this more than once at the hands of my friend Stan in Denver, who had made me moan with pleasure as I'd writhed helplessly under his ministrations. "Okay," I agreed, and David began twirling my foreskin rapidly over my glans, sending messages of pure joy down the nerves in my penis. The stimulation was intense, and I knew beyond doubt that I'd be the first to come. My glans began tingling as I tried to relax utterly, letting myself fall back onto the bed as David massaged my turgid penis between his palms. Despite my trying to prolong the stimulation by relaxing all of my muscles, I felt myself increasingly absorbed by the wonderful feelings in my cock. David was untiring and unrelenting, and I found that the focus of my attention was the lower part of my body. I still stroked his prick, my only remaining hold on the world, as I drifted into an altered state of consciousness, unaware of the outside world and the captivating feelings in my cock dominating my mind. My glans tingled, and I felt the familiar overpowering urge to pee that precedes an intense orgasm. My breathing was heavy, and each intense surge of sensation made me go "HAH" as I felt my excitement mount. I was supine on the bed, and my eyes closed to shut out the world as I heard myself grunting "HAH-HAH-HAH" in the distance. "You're close, really close," David murmured. "Your balls are tight against your body, and I can feel your tip swelling." The hot tingle in my glans flowed down my shaft, and I was becoming weightless, in free fall. I felt myself slipping into orgasm, totally absorbed by the rush of sensations. The rhythmic thudding in my cock-root sent gushes of juice burning their way up my tube, until they slammed the lips of my slit open as they erupted. David's twirling of my foreskin against my swollen glans produced an intense tingle in the rim, a sensation that filled my prick and spread down the shaft to produce more spasms in my cock-root. The sensations were so intense that I groaned in joyous agony, disoriented and utterly helpless, totally enraptured by the wonderful sensations in my prick. I didn't even feel the hot jets that landed on my chest and stomach. As my spasms weakened, I felt the last drops of cream squeezing through the hole in my tip, dribbling down to coat my already wet and slippery cock-head. My glans was becoming too sensitive, and David, sensing this, stopped stroking me. I lay there torpid for several minutes, gradually regaining my full consciousness and my strength, until I got up on one elbow and smiled my thanks at David, who was wiping the sperm off my chest. He milked the last drops from my prick, blotted the end of my glans with a Kleenex, and replaced the foreskin over the head. "Your cock's still hard," I remarked, aware that at some point before I slipped into orgasm I'd let go of his penis. "I almost came myself, watching you writhing and crying out, and feeling your prick throbbing between my hands." he replied. "It was really exciting watching you come. I'm glad you're a shooter, not a dribbler." I knew exactly what he meant. Even though I'm sure they enjoyed their orgasms, it was always more exciting for me to watch a guy have a big, blasting, shooting, groaning orgasm with torrents of cream than one who just seeped a few drops. I turned towards him and stabilized his cock with my left hand, working the glans and root with my right hand's fingers. He lay back on the bed because the intensity of these sensations filled him with pleasure. I heard him take deep breaths as I worked my fingertip caresses from the blunt nose of his glans back to the flaring corona, then down to the root of the glans, returning on the underside, where I strummed his gee-string until I felt him shudder. His oval orifice was wide-open and filled with clear lube, which ran down over his glans and shaft onto my encircling fingers. I noticed his balls tight against his body, and felt his shaft swell slightly. The purple glans darkened, and more lubricant emerged in a steady flow as he neared the brink. "You're close, man," I said as I continued to caress his sensitive spots with my fingertips. "Any second, now." I saw his eyes close, and his lips draw back from his teeth as his breathing became ragged. I felt his glans harden under my fingers, and the next drop to emerge from his hole was milky. I knew he was about to tumble into a new world of sensation as I continued to stroke his tender tissues. Now I ran my fingers around his rim, in what I knew must be a maddening caress that would trigger his storm. David's glans throbbed under my fingers and a white jet shot from his tip to land on his chest. His back arched as another throb filled his prick, and more juice erupted from his turgid tip. His eyes were screwed shut, and his jaw muscles tight, as more jets throbbed up his tube and shot high into the air. He cried out in agonized ecstasy as the overwhelming sensations gripped him, and his hips thrust in frenzy, trying to drive his swollen glans deeper into my fingers as torrents of cream jetted from his hole. To my surprise, I felt a swelling in my cock. I looked down to see that I was half-hard, even though I'd just drained myself a couple of minutes ago. The feel of his cock throbbing in my fingers, and the sight of his white jets streaming onto his body, had excited me again, although I was sure I wouldn't have a second orgasm now. Now I again strummed the hot spot under his helmet, making David howl in ecstasy, but this time I placed the palm of my hand over his tip, catching the cream and spreading it over the front of his blunt-nosed glans. His hips bucked, driving his swollen tip into my palm, as he cried out again. A sudden intake of breath told me that his glans had become too sensitive, and I stopped working it, allowing his orgasm to expire naturally. When he was quiet, I wiped him down as he'd done to me, removing the torrent of juice from his chest and stomach, then milking the last drops from his prick. I blotted each drop as it appeared at the end of his glans, then pulled his foreskin forward to protect the precious head. "You really came a lot," he said to me when he'd recovered. "That's because the snake bite always does that to me," I replied. "You really drained my balls." "I'm surprised to see that you're half-hard now," he said. "Just watching and feeling you come did that to me," I replied. "When did you last come?" he asked me. "Three days ago, when I spent a two-hour session watching videos and stroking my prick. You shot a hell of a lot too. How long had you been holding that load in your tanks?" "Three weeks," he said. "The moment you phoned to say you'd be coming, I began saving up, because my orgasms are always longer and hotter when I've got a big load to shoot. I was afraid a wet dream would empty me while waiting, but I didn't have any, fortunately, and your fingertip strokes made me drain myself completely." "Well, let's get something to eat," David suggested. We've got to build up our strength for the rest of the weekend. And we did.

The end

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