Show with Steve By Jack Santoro Jackinnm1@yahoo.com
I was in town on business, so I planned to visit Steve, whom I had met virtually in a foreskin restoration site. We had both been circumcised at birth and hated it. We were eager to compare results, as I'd had plastic surgery and Steve had used various devices to stretch his shaft skin to form a new hood over the glans.
I pulled into Steve's driveway that Saturday afternoon and rang his bell. Steve opened the door and I recognized him from his photo on the site. He was about 5'9", stocky, and going bald. Like me, he was lightly dressed because of the summer heat. He let me in and introduced me to his housemate, Phil, who was slightly taller, slender, and who still had a full head of brown hair. After we'd shaken hands, Steve said:
"We'd better get naked. Each show and tell I've been to ended up with us shooting our loads at the end." I knew how arousing seeing and handling another guy's restored prick could be, and started to strip down as I replied:
"Oh, I know. A few years ago a guy named Mike and I met in his hotel room. We compared pricks and discussed our restorations, but then he told me the discussion was getting him really horny. I was getting hot too. His prick was leaking lube a lot, and we had to strip down to relieve each other. His prick was a lot like mine, straight shaft, about six inches hard, and with a big purple helmet on the end. I did him first, and he was very vocal and very loud when he came. He shot about half a dozen thick ropes of cream before it was over. Then he did me, pumping my foreskin like I'd pumped his, and when I came I was just as loud as he'd been." As we undressed we scrutinized each other's groins, and I noticed that we were all "growers," small when limp.
Steve's prick had a large glans bulge and a foreskin nipple beyond the end. He was an "anteater," as I was. Phil's prick also had a very visible bulge in the foreskin, which ended in a tight pucker at the end of his glans.
"Did you both restore together?" I asked.
"No," replied Steve. "Phil was never cut."
"Lucky guy," I commented. I'd asked because guys who restore their hoods by stretching often end up looking as if they'd never been cut.
"I'm doing a little stretching because I'd like more length, like Steve has," Phil added. "I like that anteater look." By this time we were totally naked. Steve reached out to grasp my foreskin nipple.
"That looks kinda tight," he said. "Does it retract?" His casual touch sent an electric thrill through my prick, and I felt the start of an erection.
"Sure does," I answered as I gave his glans a gentle squeeze through its hood. "Wait till it gets stiff. You'll be able to push the skin back easily." I squeezed Phil's glans with my other hand.
"That made me throb deep inside," Steve said. I gave his glans a few more squeezes.
"That's the bulbo-cavernal reflex," I said as I continued to squeeze their tips rhythmically. "You'll both be hard pretty soon." Steve was tugging gently on my hood, drawing it out, and the outline of my helmet became more pronounced through the skin as my prick swelled in response.
"I always get hard touching another guy's cock," Steve said. "especially another restored guy." I knew the feeling, as I'd reacted the same way during other show and tells.
"That new foreskin doesn't match the rest of the skin on your shaft," Phil commented. "Where did that come from?"
"It's a scrotal graft," I informed him. "The big problem is that grafting skin cuts the nerves and my new hood is numb."
"Your tip's a lot more sensitive from being covered, isn't it?" Steve asked.
"Oh, yes, that's for sure. I noticed the increased sensitivity just a few months after the surgery," I affirmed. Our pricks were fully hard by now and I saw that Phil and I both had about six inches, with straight shafts, but that Steve's was over seven. Steve pushed back on my hood.
"Seems a little tight," he said.
"That's not a problem," I said. "It's snug on my glans and feels so good when you slide it." His strong fingers worked my hood up and down my helmet, producing delicious sensations. I pushed back on his hood and on Phil's foreskin simultaneously, revealing both their tips.
"We've all got that helmet shaped glans," Phil observed.
"My favorite kind," added Steve. "I think that's the most attractive shape."
"Look at Jack's meatus," prompted Phil. "It's not just a slit. It pouts like a teardrop."
"Yes, very nice," answered Steve. "Let's get into the bedroom. We'll be more comfortable there." He led us into the master bedroom, where a queen size bed awaited us. A stack of towels was on the bedside table. Steve got onto the bed, propping himself up against the padded headboard, and I sat on his right. Phil sat on his left. I grasped his prick and resumed sliding his long foreskin back and forth, while Phil cupped his balls. Steve grasped my prick in his right hand and worked my hood up and down, doing the same to Phil with his left.
"It's really nice, pumping two skins up and down," Steve said. "One's natural and the other's restored, but they're both hot."
You're pretty wet," I commented as I stroked Steve's long hood, twisting it gently on the up-stroke.
"Steve always secretes a lot of pre-coital fluid," Phil told me. "I think it's because he's still got his frenulum."
"Well, you've still got yours, since you weren't cut," I said. "You don't have as much lube. Matter of fact, I hardly have any lube, and my gee-string is completely gone."
"Yeah, I noticed that," Steve said. You've just got a deep triangular groove under your helmet." As he spoke, he pulled my foreskin down and stroked the twin lobes of my frenular delta with his index finger, making my prick throb in response. I pulled his foreskin back completely, and began caressing the compound curves of his glans with my fingertips, lubricated by his copious secretion. He drew in his breath sharply and then began going "AH-AH-AH" as I continued to work my fingertips over his swollen helmet.
"That's intense," Phil pointed out. "You'll have him coming soon." I knew that the direct action on Steve's sensitive glans was heightening his sensations, and that however much he tried to stay relaxed, he'd dissolve into orgasm within a minute or two.
"Grasp his shaft skin, Phil, and pull it back all the way to keep his big helmet exposed," I said. Phil released Steve's scrotum and grasped the shaft skin near the base, drawing it back as far as he could, exposing the deep groove behind the flaring rim. I dipped my fingertips into it, following it all the way down to strum his gee-string and then up around the other side to the top.
"I'm pulling hard enough so that the front of his helmet's dipping," Phil told me. I knew that the tension on Steve's gee-string was adding to his excitement, and I reached for a towel with my left hand and spread it in front of him. I worked my thumb over the broad upper surface of his helmet as I caressed his taut frenulum with my other fingers, heightening his sensations further. Steve's breathing was now shallow and rapid, and he was still going "AH-AH-AH" as the intense sensations dominated his attention. His abdominal muscles tightened and I sensed the tension building in his body as I saw him staring fixedly at my fingers dancing over his engorged glans, the focus of his sensations.
"Jack, his tip's gotten darker purple," Phil told me. "It won't be long now." Steve's hands had stopped stroking our pricks, and were just grasping them tightly. Clear viscous fluid kept pouring from his long slit, and I spread it over his glans with my fingertips.
"His helmet's lost that spongy feel," I commented. "The surface is really hard now. Does he shoot or dribble?"
"He shoots," Phil answered me. "Now that he's really excited, he should be shooting hard, very hard. Any second now."
"Does his tip get super-sensitive when he comes?" I asked. "Some guys get that way and they have to stop stroking when they start to come."
"No, he doesn't but I do," answered Phil. "You can keep stroking him all the way through."
The veins on Steve's shaft stood out, evidence of his arousal, as I kept working my fingers over his hot hard tip, bringing forth more rapid "AHs" from him. His legs began trembling, and I knew he was on the cusp. I felt a hard throb in his helmet just as he began yelping:
"OH! OH! OH! OH!" and the first jet erupted from his long slit to shoot forcefully onto the towel. Steve's eyes were fixed on his prick as he cried out helplessly, overwhelmed by the intensity of his orgasm. I felt another hard throb under my fingertips and saw another white another torrent of cream parted the lips of his slit.
"He's really loud," Phil said as Steve's cries filled the air. His glossy purple helmet throbbed again and another stream of cream splashed hard onto the towel. Steve's hands had dropped away from our pricks as he'd become totally caught up in his orgasm.
"I can feel his shaft throbbing hard," Phil observed as Steve cried out again and discharged another long rope of thick white fluid. Steve's face was contorted in the delicious agony of his orgasm as he howled loudly. I kept my fingertips stroking his glans; top, sides, flaring corona, and the groove behind it to intensify his sensations as much as I could. I was rewarded by another hard throb in his helmet and watched another hot discharge pour from his slit, slamming through the lips and arcing down onto the towel.
The next throb as just as hard, but the stream weaker, as he neared the end of his shattering climax. He was just as loud, though, and then his glans throbbed again between my fingers, releasing a dribble of sperm this time. I stopped stroking and we watched his prick twitching as residual drops leaked from the opening at the end.
"He had a super orgasm," Phil commented as he began milking Steve's urethra, starting behind his scrotum and working forward to force out the last drops. He finished by pulling the long foreskin forward to protect the precious head, and we watched Steve's prick lose its stiffness and begin to shrink. Steve's eyes were closed because of the after-shock of the orgasm.
Now I grasped Phil's prick, which was still fully hard, and began to work his foreskin back and forth.
"How would you like me to do you?" I asked. "Like Steve, direct action on the tip?" Phil's fingers had closed around me shaft and were working my hood with short strokes.
"No, just keep stroking my skin. It's the one nature gave me, so it's more sensitive than yours or Steve's." Steve had rolled to the side of the bed and Phil took his place, leaning his back against the pillow and headboard.
"Yeah, you've got all your original nerve endings and your gee-string," I commented. "Lucky you." As I spoke I pulled his foreskin all the way back to put tension on the frenulum and I saw the blunt-ended helmet dip down at the front.
"It was so hot watching Steve shoot his load, and now it's really hot to feel your hand on my dick," Phil said. "When I start to come, just pull back all the way the way you're doing now. Friction would be too much, but pulling on my fren makes it hotter for me." I envied him because he still had his frenulum and mine had been amputated along with my foreskin. A drop of clear lubricant seeped from his slit, and I swept his foreskin forward to pick it up.
Phil's breathing had become shallow and rapid, and I knew he was quickly approaching the moment of sublime bliss. I kept my strokes long and even, giving him the delicious friction his prick craved and stretching his gee-string on each back-stroke. His strokes on my prick had slowed as his excitement had mounted, and I knew he'd stop or let go when the first spasms gripped him. His legs were spread out in a "V" and I saw his abdominal muscles tightening.
"I get a hot thrill every time you pull my fren," Phil whispered.
"Yeah, that really does it for him," said Steve, who had recovered from the after-shock and now slid his hand between Phil's thighs to cup his scrotum. I kept working Phil's foreskin up and down his helmet in long strokes, enhancing his arousal.
"His tip's darker now," Steve commented.
"Yeah, and I can feel it's firmer through the skin," I added. Another drop of lubricant parted the lips of Phil's long slit, and I spread it over his glans with the supple foreskin.
"That stretchy feeling when I pull his skin back over the big helmet turns him on too," I said. "Since he wasn't cut, he feels it all, the friction, the pressure on his prick, stretching his gee-string, stretching the opening. I know it's intense for him." I guessed that hearing us talk about his sexual sensations and reactions was adding to Phil's excitement, and I sensed the tension building in his body.
"Any second now," Steve murmured. I gave Phil's foreskin a couple of long strokes and then I felt a powerful throb in his shaft as he grunted loudly:
"AAAAAAAHHHHHNNNNNG!" as the first load gushed from the apex of his glans. I pulled his foreskin back sharply and held it there, making his glans dip. His shaft throbbed again in my fist, and a second gush of cream erupted from his helmet. His loud grunts filled the air. I felt a third throb in his prick and another eruption streamed through the lips of his slit.
"He's louder than I was," Steve said as Phil's shaft throbbed again between my fingers and another stream blasted from his straining tip. I held my grip, keeping the tension on his frenulum to add to his sensations, and felt another heavy throb as a blast of white cream poured onto the towel.
Now his shaft was just twitching between my fingers as a few drops of sperm dribbled from his glans. The main event was over, although a few residual drops would continue to seep from his prick. Steve began milking his urethra, running a fingertip forward along his perineum and then the bottom of Phil's shaft. I felt his prick softening in my hand and I relaxed my grip. Phil's breathing slowed as his body began to relax, and I gently pulled his foreskin up over his shrinking helmet.
"That was beautiful," Steve told me. I nodded in agreement, happy that I'd been able to give both him and Phil intense orgasms. Steve and Phil were both relaxed but I was all worked up from sharing their excitement vicariously. Steve saw that I was very aroused and commented:
"That's some hard-on you've got. You've been hard a long time now." He wrapped his fingers around my prick and began sliding my hood up and down my engorged helmet. "Your skin's sure different from mine. It's thicker."
"That's because it's a surgical graft," I explained. "It's scrotal skin. You can see that it doesn't blend in with my shaft skin. It's darker."
"Yeah, I see that. I think you also told me once that it's pretty numb."
"That's true. When you graft skin, you cut the nerves," I said.
"Your tip's more sensitive, though, isn't it?" he asked as he continued to stroke me. Taking about my prick was arousing, and I felt it engorge more.
"It had lost a lot of sensitivity from being dry for 43 years, and it became more sensitive once I got it covered again." Steve's fingers kept working on my prick slowly easing the thick hood up and down the helmet, heightening my excitement.
"You don't produce much lube, do you?" he asked.
"Never did, even when I was younger. I have to use artificial lube, like Astroglide," I replied.
"I've got some," he replied as he reached into the drawer in the bedside table. "I'm gonna skin you back and give you direct action on the tip, like you did to me. That feels really hot." He drew my hood back sharply and it locked behind my flaring corona. As he dribbled a few drops of lube on my helmet, he spread it around with his fingertips, making me draw in my breath sharply at the intense sensations.
"Here, sit against the pillow," I heard Phil say. He'd come out of his daze and now moved off the center of the bed. I took his place and he spread a fresh towel between my outstretched legs. Now he cupped my scrotum with his left hand and pulled back sharply on my shaft skin with his right.
"That's good, Phil," I heard Steve say. "Now I can get at his rim and groove." Steve's lubricated fingertips caressed my flaring corona and the deep groove behind it, and then he ran his index finger up the V-groove on the underside of my helmet, making me gasp as my prick throbbed in response.
"You've got a beautiful tip," I heard Phil tell me. "That flaring rim looks so hot, and I like the way your slit pouts when you're hard, like a teardrop." As Phil was speaking, Steve worked his index finger in small circles around my orifice, sending hot sparks of sensation stabbing into my glans. I shuddered with excitement and the tension built up in my body.
"That feels so hot," I gasped. "Keep it up and you'll have my load in a minute." My breathing was now shallow and rapid, in short gasps, as I'd heard Steve breathe while I was stimulating him. My prick was attaining its final hardness from the inrush of blood.
"Man, your tip's gotten hard and your rim's flaring out even more," Steve told me as he continued to stroke my helmet's compound curves.
"It's gotten darker too," Phil remarked as he kept his fingers around my scrotum and my shaft skin pulled sharply back. Steve's fingers were dancing rapidly around my glans, caressing here, flicking there, pouring a flood of sensations into the heated nerve endings. The insistent tickling sensation in my glans had me going "ah-ah-ah" just as Steve had when I'd done the same to him. Now the ticking intensified and turned into a hot tingle, and I knew I was on the verge of orgasm. My abdominal muscles were tight and my toes curled.
A powerful throb filled my prick and I howled loudly as the first burning stream of sperm shot up my urethra, slamming through the pouting lips of my orifice. My prick throbbed again and another gush seared its way up my tube, shooting out of the end of my engorged purple helmet as I howled again. Steve's fingertips swept across the broad upper surface of my helmet, around the flaring ridge, into the groove, and then underneath to hit my hot spot, bringing forth another eruption of hot cream from my meatus.
"He's as loud as you were," Phil told Steve as my helpless cries filled the air. Steve twisted his fingertips around my corona and my prick responded by shooting another white discharge onto the towel as I howled again in the joyful agony of orgasm. I felt his fingertip probing into the V-groove under my glans, hitting my hot spot, and my prick responded by sending another hot spurt slamming through the pouting lips of my meatus. I was howling loudly, enraptured by the delicious agony of orgasm.
Steve's fingers swiped across the blunt nose of my glans, stimulating the orifice, and another stream poured onto his fingertips. I was almost sobbing with the intensity of the sensations as my prick suddenly became too sensitive and I shouted:
"STOP! Too sensitive!" and I felt Phil and Steve release my prick. My orgasm was over except for a few final twitches deep inside. I began to relax as the blood started to leave my penis.
"Man, both you and Steve had really hot comes," Phil said. "You were both so loud." I felt his fingertip running along my urethra behind my balls, pushing the residual sperm forward. Then he pressed the bottom of my softening shaft, milking the last drops out of me. He dabbed at the front of my helmet with a corner of the towel and then pulled my foreskin forward.
"We have to protect the precious head," he said as he draped the hood over my shrunken helmet.
"Yeah, that keeps it soft and sensitive," Steve added, giving my glans a slight squeeze through the covering skin.
"Thanks, guys," I whispered. "That was pretty hot. You made my prick explode."
"Glad you could come over," Steve said. "It was mice to see how your new skin works."
"I'm glad too," added Phil. "I'd seen how Steve's stretched skin worked, and now I got to see how your grafted skin is."
"Well," I said, "I was able to compare Steve's stretched foreskin with your natural one.
"Steve's got more length than I do,with his stretching, said Phil. "He can dock me, but I don't have enough length to dock him. I don't think I could even dock you, although your penis is smaller than his. That's why I've started stretching too."
"Well, you just might do that," I assured him. "Most natural guys don't have enough length to dock another adult size glans. With stretching, you can probably get enough length, especially since you have such a head start over Steve."
"Have you been able to dock another guy?" Phil asked. "You seem to have enough length."
"No, because my hood's too tight," I explained. "Scrotal skin doesn't stretch as well as shaft skin, and I was able only to stretch it laterally to let me skin back when my helmet's fully hard. I might be able to dock another guy if I came first so that my prick would be shrunken when I docked him. Never tried, though."
"If you get to town again, we might try that," Steve suggested. "We'd make you come first, and then you could dock Phil, since his tip's not as big as mine."
"That's something to look forward to," I said.
The end.