Weekend With Tim, Part 1 By Jackinnm@yahoo.com
NOTE: This is the story of one of the most erotic weekends of my life, the one I spent with Tim. It was also very emotional because we'd gotten to know each other well during a months-long exchange of e-mails, shared our feelings, and developed a relationship.
I'd met Tim on the Internet, and we'd exchanged many e-mails filled with personal details about ourselves. I was 66, and he 43. Tim was very happy to find out that I was Bi, as he was. We'd both been married and divorced, and we agreed that men know how to please other men better, and that as Bisexuals, we got the best of both possible worlds. Tim worked at a blue-collar job, but he seemed very intelligent, and his e-mails showed that he was very expressive and articulate. We discovered that we had other things in common as well. Despite the differences in our ages we shared certain tastes. We both liked merlot, fine food, and we both enjoyed unhurried mutual masturbation that progressed slowly to a shattering orgasm.
Tim had his own web site, and invited me to visit it. I found many photos of him on the site, and some showed him naked in several poses. The frontal view was the most interesting for me as it displayed his prick and its big helmet. He had a sturdy and muscular athletic build, with a flat stomach, and more body hair than I did. He had well-shaped legs, with well-defined muscles, as on the rest of his body. He also wore a mustache, while I was clean shaven. I also saw a tattoo on his arm and another on his abdomen. I'd never been tattooed.
He'd seen photos of my equipment on one of the penis web sites, and knew what mine looked like. He'd told me that he'd love to get his hands on it, so that we could enjoy a long, slow, and unhurried mutual j/o session.
He'd written me that he was really into his prick, eager to get the most pleasure from it. We both thought our pricks were handsome, and with their straight shafts and big helmet shaped heads there was good reason to think so. Our feelings towards our pricks were frankly narcissistic.
As he'd been circumcised at birth, Tim was surprised when I'd written him that the foreskin on the end of my penis was not the one with which I'd been born. We both resented having been clipped because this had reduced the sensitivity of our pricks, and this shared feeling drew us closer. However, I'd had plastic surgery to re-create a hood 22 years earlier, and while Tim had experimented with stretching his shaft-skin to form a new hood, he hadn't progressed with it.
Although we agreed that the difference in our ages made a long term relationship problematic, we also agreed that we'd enjoy sexual exploration. He'd written:
"Basically, I'm looking for a good friend and j/o bud-albeit a SOPHISTICATED j/o bud. I think you fit the bill! I don't think there are many men out there interested in prolonged, exquisite, fine tuned sex play with another man. I would certainly love to experience those fantastic pleasures with my penis in your capable hands (and fingers). In return, I would love to pleasure you and your penis in the same way. The only deficiency on my part is lacking a hood. Even so, I can still get a lot of pleasure out of my naked helmet." He further wrote:
"A fantasy of mine would be to hold and feel your erect, throbbing cock at the same time you are slowly pleasuring mine- and especially so at the moment of my orgasm."
He was eager to have a hot sexual encounter with me, and that summer Tim invited me to spend a weekend with him. I quickly accepted, although I knew we could not establish a lasting relationship.
I set off on the thousand mile trip from Albuquerque to Omaha, knowing it would take about two days. We'd agreed that I'd arrive late on Friday afternoon, so that we might have the weekend together. It was a pleasant summer day when I arrived at Tim's apartment, and he had a glass of merlot in his hand when he opened the door. I heard Wagner playing in the background and I was not surprised. He'd written me:
"The music of Wagner is erotic to me and usually produces an erection."
"Hi," I said shyly, a bit nervous. "I'm Jack." Tim was a hair less than six feet, and appeared to be about 175 lb., slightly shorter than my 6'2" and 205 lb.
"I recognize you from your picture," he said, smiling. "Come on in. Have a glass." He'd set out a glass for me on the kitchen table, and he filled it as I sat down in a chair.
"Have a good trip?" he asked.
"Yeah, not much traffic, and I just set the cruise control and played music from the CD deck," I answered. We were trying to break the ice, and I sensed he felt slightly awkward, as I did. While exchanging e-mails we'd been very open with each other over the months but face to face we were somewhat shy. We had, however, developed a strong bond, and I decided to take this a step further:
"Can I hold your hand while we talk?" Tim hesitated a moment and replied:
"It would feel better if you held my cock. I'd like that very much." He spread his legs and I saw the outline of his half-hard prick down his left thigh through the fabric. I eagerly reached out and lightly traced the outline of his helmet.
"Is that okay?" I asked as I ran my finger up his shaft.
"That's fine," he breathed softly. "I'd like to touch yours too. I've seen the pictures, and I'd like to feel it in my hand." I was wearing looser clothing than he was, and I unzipped my fly with my other hand. He snaked his fingers through the zipper and I felt his fingertips probing for my prick. I felt a pleasant tingle begin where his fingertips grazed my prick, and I sighed as the tingle spread down my shaft.
"Mine's on the left too," I prompted him and he reached through the slit in my boxer shorts. His thumb and index finger grasped my long thick foreskin and tugged gently.
"I like this part of you," he commented. "I've wanted to get my hand on it from the first time I saw the pictures." My prick was beginning to respond to his expert and delicate touch, and I felt his prick thickening further under my stroking fingers as well.
"Let me get it out before it's too stiff to handle," I said as I unzipped his fly and reached in for his penis. Tim also wore boxers and I brought his prick up to poke through the slit.
"We both wear boxers," he observed.
"I like them because of the freedom they give me," I explained. "I don't like the way other types bind, and I like it when my prick and balls can swing a little in my shorts." Tim's thick purple helmet was now between my fingers and I pulled slightly to extract more of his shaft.
"I like your cock, the way it looks and the way it feels," he said as he gently stroked my foreskin up and down my now hard helmet. "It's so warm."
"I like yours too," I replied as I grasped his shaft behind the head and moved the skin up and down, testing its tightness. He had enough slack to let me bump the rim of his now fully swollen head.
"That feels nice," he breathed, taking another sip of wine. "I'm really glad you're here."
"I'm glad to be here," I said. "I'm really glad you invited me."
"I've been looking forward to this weekend," he added.
"I've got to tell you, Tim, I've been falling asleep at night thinking and fantasizing about stroking with you. I thought a lot about feeling your warm fingers around my prick." He gave my penis a squeeze as he heard this, and I reciprocated.
"I just got home from work, and you've been on the road all day," he said. "We could use a shower."
"I'd love to take a shower with you," I answered. "We'll get better acquainted that way." We lifted our glasses and as we downed the last of our wine a pleasant glow spread through my body. He got up and led me to the bedroom, where we began stripping down. Our eyes were fixed on each other as we undressed, and when we dropped our shorts we were exposed to each other's gaze and touch. Tim walked over to me and grasped the end of my long foreskin between two fingers. At his touch, I felt a pleasant tingle in my prick.
"I wish I had one of those," he said. "I'm glad you do."
"Yeah, but it cost me $7500 in surgical and hospital bills to get it," I replied. "It's not as good as the original one."
"It's still nice," he said as he turned and led me into the bathroom. Inside the shower, he turned on the water, and we relaxed, enjoying the sensual feel of the spray coursing over our bodies. His low-hanging sac dropped even lower under the influence of the hot water.
"I've got to pee," I said. "It's the wine. Okay if I pee in here? I don't want to gross you out."
"That's okay," he replied. "I've got to pee too. Just go ahead." My erection had gone down somewhat, and my sphincter was no longer locked up.
"Ever see anyone do this?" I asked as I pinched the end of my foreskin shut. I relaxed and start the stream, which distended my foreskin as we watched.
"No, I never saw that," he answered as I released my foreskin and the resulting gush fell onto our feet. He quickly grasped the end of my hood between thumb and forefinger, pinching it shut and making the fleshy tube distend with the pressure. When it was swollen to almost twice the diameter of my shaft he let it go, commenting:
"That is cute, really cute. I wish I had one of those." Meanwhile, he'd relaxed his sphincter and a yellow stream poured from the end of his helmet to swirl on the floor and vanish down the drain. Pinching the end of my prick again, he said:
"This must feel nice, the urine running around under your skin."
"It does, you can be sure of that," I said as he let go, releasing the accumulated fluid. "I think I'm at the end," I continued. His stream had stopped too.
"I haven't seen your helmet yet, although you've seen mine," he said. "Can I push your skin back?"
"Go right ahead, Tim. I have to peel it to rinse underneath anyway." He steadied the base of my shaft with one hand while pushing my long thick hood back with the other until it locked behind my rim.
"Your skin always stay back by itself?" he asked.
"Always, even when soft," I replied.
"You've got a big rim like me and it flares a bit more," he observed. "I guess that flare holds it back."
"That's right. Plus my foreskin's kinda tight."
"It's pretty thick, too," he said. "I like that."
"The scrotal skin the doctor used for the graft makes it thick," I explained. Tim picked up the soap and began running the bar over my chest.
"Mind if I soap you up?"
"Only if you let me do you," I replied. He picked up a washcloth and worked it lovingly over my body, from neck down to feet.
"You want a little soap on this?" he asked, pointing to my prick.
"Not necessary. It doesn't get that dirty. Anyway, if I left a residue of soap inside my hood it would only irritate it."
"I don't use much on mine, either. It doesn't get dirty," he laughed. Tim continued to work over me with the soap and washcloth, and then handed them to me. I soaped him thoroughly, taking my time because I knew he was enjoying it. When I'd finished, we turned around under the water to rinse off completely, and then he shut off the tap. Grabbing a towel, he dried me, and then I dried him. As we'd paid a lot of attention to our crotches, we were both hard when we'd finished. I pulled my foreskin forward.
"Your cock's a little thicker than mine," he said. "The skin covers the head when hard, too."
"Yeah, I've got a lot of foreskin length. I stretched it out after the surgery."
"Both of ours stick straight out," he observed. "Mine used to be higher, but that was years ago."
"Me too. It's not like when I was a kid," I replied. Tim went into the bedroom, and we sat on his queen-size. I could hear Wagner's "Valkyrie" still playing in the living room.
"How old were you when you first jacked off?" he asked.
"I was 12. One day after school I was in the bathroom and I started stroking my
prick like this." I demonstrated by grasping his shaft with thumb on top and two fingers underneath and began sliding the shaft skin up just enough to compress his corona. His shaft skin was looser than mine had been.
"That feels good," he said. "What happened then?" I kept stroking his shaft skin as I continued:
"I kept it up for awhile, and it felt better and better. Then I got a tickling feeling in the head, and I felt like I had to pee. I did it faster, and suddenly it felt like an electric shock had hit my body. I saw stars in front of my eyes, and my prick started throbbing. It suddenly got too sensitive, and I had to let go. I don't know how long I sat with my arms hanging down, waiting for that magic feeling to stop. When it ended, I had tears in my eyes. That orgasm had been so intense I'd cried. I thought I might have broken something inside me."
"Did you shoot?"
"No, that first one was a dry orgasm. So was the one next afternoon. I didn't have any discharge for months, and then I got a couple of drops of clear fluid. Over the next year it gradually became white." I was still gently stroking Tim's prick, feeling its warmth, and gazing at the shapely purple helmet.
"Ever use lube?" he asked.
"Yeah, I experimented with Vaseline, and found it too sticky. Then I tried soap, beating off in the bathtub, but the soap irritated my skin. I tried different types of oil too."
"I tried different lubes too," he said. "Now I use Albolene. It's not too thick, and feels very nice."
"Want me to try different sensations on you?" I asked. Tim nodded and I told him to lie down. Grasping his engorged glans between thumb and forefinger, I began to squeeze it rhythmically, about once a second.
"Feel anything?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's making my cock-root throb. It's really erotic."
"That's the bulbo-cavernal reflex," I explained. "I don't know if I could make you come this way, but it might. Now let's try something else." I pulled a corner of the bed-sheet over his six-inch erection and began running my fingertip up the underside through the cloth.
"Now that feels nice, a long slow stroke," he said. I began concentrating on the vee-cleft under his glans, caressing the tender frenulum through the cloth. Tim sighed deeply and said:
"That feels really good. That's a really sensitive part on me."
"I know," I laughed. "You wrote me that in an e-mail."
"I know I could come if you kept this up." I changed my stroke from lengthwise to sideways strumming of his gee-string.
"Good thing the doctor didn't remove this when he circumcised you. The guy who did me clipped mine." I saw the tension build in Tim's body, and knew that he was really feeling it. Suddenly he sat up and said:
"Okay, that's enough for me right now. I don't want to come too soon. You lie down and I'll explore your cock." I stopped and lay flat on my back, legs slightly parted, and Tim propped himself up on one elbow beside me. My prick was half-hard, and he began squeezing my glans through the covering hood.
"Does this work through the skin, too?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah," I replied. "My cock-root's throbbing with each squeeze. Put one finger down past my balls, by my perineum. You'll feel the throbs then." Tim shifted his position and slid one finger between my sac and my thigh until it pressed lightly against my perineum.
"Now I can feel them. Each time I squeeze your helmet, your root throbs, just like mine did." He kept up the rhythm, and continued:
"I really enjoy this, making your cock throb. I like the way it feels, the way it's warm, and the way it's making your cock harder."
"I know you do. I enjoyed doing it to you, too, knowing it was giving you pleasure."
"Now that it's hard, does the skin go back?" he asked.
"It sure does," I replied. "Just grab it firmly and push it back."
"You were right, Jack, your skin's pretty tight. It's tighter than other uncut guys I've played with. Sure it doesn't hurt when I pull it back over that big helmet?" Tim had a firm grip on my foreskin and was pressing it down tentatively.
"No, just go ahead. It doesn't hurt at all." He pressed harder, and the dome of my glans appeared.
"I love doing this. I really love it when the helmet starts to come out." As he spoke he continued to press the thick hood back.
"That feels good for me," I said. "Both the pressure and the friction are hitting my helmet." Now Tim gave my thick fleshy sleeve a slight twist and my breath caught in my throat.
"That did something for you, didn't it?" he asked. "I found that twisting the skin a little gives an extra thrill to uncut guys."
"It did, Tim," I answered. "Even to a formerly cut guy like me." Now he pressed the hood back farther until it sat poised on my rim, and inhaled deeply, a puzzled look on his face.
"Yours doesn't smell like other uncut guys' cocks," he said.
"That's because the damn doctor removed all of my inner lining, so I don't produce smegma," I explained. "That butcher cut me really tight."
"I like the look of that big purple head," he said. "It looks so shiny because it's not dry like mine. It must be pretty sensitive."
"It got more sensitive once it was covered with foreskin," I explained. "That kept it moist and protected." Now Tim pushed the bunched fleshy ring behind my rim into the groove.
"That skin makes your cock really thick behind the rim," he observed. "It feels really good in my hand."
"Yeah, it bunches up that way when it's skinned back," I said.
"That's a really nice rim," he said. "I see yours curves up a bit more than mine does. Is it really sensitive there?"
"My rim's very sensitive, Tim," I answered. "You could make me come just by bumping the foreskin against the rim."
"You've got those little bumps on the back of your rim. I've got them too."
"I think those are nerve endings," I said. "I've had them as long as I can remember. I noticed them on your rim too."
"We've both got beautiful helmets," he said, and slowly began to jiggle my foreskin ring, bumping it against the ridge with each stroke.
"I think so too," I agreed. "It's a turn-on seeing your big helmet swollen and proudly sticking up."
"Your slit really pouts," he observed. "Now that your helmet's hard it looks like a teardrop."
"I noticed yours has a really long slit," I said. "That looks nice too." I placed my forefinger against his meatus, gently pressing inward. The lips parted under the pressure and my fingertip slid into the orifice, making his prick jerk.
"We're really into our cocks," he said as he leaned down and kissed me lightly on the forehead. This tender gesture made my heart almost skip a beat.
"Your fingers are warm. You're a lot of fun to be with," I said. I leaned down to kiss his helmet right on its rim.
"I'm really glad you came here," he riposted as he gave my foreskin a backward tug that made my prick throb.
"Ooohh, that stretched the nerve endings," I commented. "That felt really good."
"I thought it would. You'd written me about that. Anyway, do you shoot or dribble?"
"When I was a teen, my prick would shoot three feet," I said. "Now it usually dribbles. My orgasms feel just as intense, though. How about you?"
"I still shoot a little," he replied. "At least the first jet goes a few inches. The rest just dribbles. It feels good, though."
"I'm gonna get a thrill from making you come and watching the cream spurt from that big helmet, though." As I spoke I grasped his shaft and gave a couple of light squeezes. Then I took his helmet between thumb and forefinger, giving it a few squeezes.
"You wrote that you don't get much lube," he said. "I can see you're not lubing right now." As he spoke I felt a wetness under my fingertip, and realized that a drop of lubricant has oozed from his slit.
"You're lubing a bit," I said as I began spreading the clear viscous liquid in small circles around his leaking orifice.
"Yeah, I'm gettin' there," he confirmed. "You're making me very hot." Tim began moving my hood in long slow strokes over my helmet, sending a thrill into my nerve endings with each cycle.
"I think you're ready to come," I said. "Want me to finish you?"
"What about you? Are you ready?" His expert fingers were skillfully pumping my foreskin over the contours of my glans, building up my excitement.
"I think I can hold off for awhile," I responded. "Let me do you first, so I can see and feel you come."
"Okay, but let me get the Albolene," he said. "I don't make enough lube naturally." He reached over to the bedside table. "Here's put some on my helmet, then work it in with your fingers." I shifted my position, steadied his shaft with my left hand, dipped three fingers into the jar, and began to spread it over his congested tip, following the contours carefully.
"That's nice, really nice," he sighed. "Just go slowly so I don't come in a rush."
"Okay, Tim, just relax and let me do the work," I coached him. "I'll work around your rim, and then spread it all over the top. I know that the orgasm's more intense when there's a long build-up."
"Can I play with your skin while you're doing it?" he asked. "It really turns me on sliding your skin over that beautiful helmet. Will it make you come if I go slowly?"
"Go ahead, darling," I answered, and a look of surprise appeared on his face. "That's what I say sometimes. I've got a really warm feeling about you. I want to give you pleasure, make you happy." He smiled up at me.
"You can call me that any time you want," he sighed, as I continued spreading the silky creamy lubricant over his glans.
"Now just don't stroke me too fast and don't grip my prick too tightly," I urged. "I think I'll be all right that way. Now I'm going to get you ready to shoot your load." My fingertips massaged the cream into the silky soft surface of his glans, caressing the nerve endings, as I continued to speak:
"Now I'm gonna talk you through this," I said. "Just relax, lie back, and listen. I want to work all the surfaces of your helmet. I'm not gonna pump you because that would tire out the nerve endings if I kept hitting the same spot, say just your rim. You'd come, but the local sensations wouldn't be as intense. First, I'm working my fingers lightly around your rim, down to the underside, and up the other side. I don't want to work your gee-string yet because we're not ready for that."
"Ooooohhhh!" he moaned as my fingertips swept around his high ridge.
"That's it, don't tense up, just relax and let the sensations come to you. Now I'm going to massage the front dome of your helmet, working around your slit." My fingertips traced small circles around Tim's long slit that parted the dome of his helmet at the very apex. I noticed his breaths were coming faster, but his strokes on my prick were maintaining.
"I love to feel your hot cock in my hand," he said. "I like the way your skin slides." I caressed the sensitive front dome of his glans, which I knew was sending further thrills down his prick.
"Now I'll get into the deep groove behind your rim because I know you're really sensitive there too. That strip of skin between your rim and the scar is what remains of your inner lining, and it's got a lot of nerve endings." I ran my fingertips around his groove slowly, letting him feel the ridges of my fingertips. "I'm also hitting the back-face of your corona, and that's got a lot of nerve endings." I felt the tension build in his body as I spoke.
"Now I'm working around your scar line. Can you feel that?" His prick jerked between my fingers.
"Oh, yeah I can feel it!" His face was flushed and his breathing was more rapid.
"Your balls are tightening, Tim," I pointed out. "You're really on your way." Now I changed my pattern, bringing my fingertips under his glans.
"Now I'm right at your vee-groove," I explained. "You told me you're really hot here, and I'm going to work on that." I began sliding my fingertips up and down the groove, caressing the thick frenulum he'd kept despite his circumcision, feeling his prick throb in response.
"This is really doing it for you, Tim. I can see your helmet's gettin' darker purple." Now I strummed his gee-string sideways quickly a couple of times, and felt his prick jerk in my hand.
"I'm close, close..." He whispered.
"No, I'm not gonna let you come yet, Tim. I want to keep you on the edge awhile, let you enjoy the feeling of anticipation." I stopped strumming his frenulum, and moved my fingertips to the broad upper surface of his glans. "Your tip's lost its sponginess," I continued. "It's really hard now and the rim's standing out more than before. You're all swollen with blood, and this makes the surface receptors more sensitive."
"Yes...yes..." he moaned. I kept on, lightly stroking the upper surface of his engorged helmet, side to side and then lengthwise, my fingers constantly moving to avoid tiring out the nerve endings in any one spot.
"You just leaked another drop," I commented. "You're really hot now." I moved my fingertips to the sides of his glans, caressing the engorged surfaces to give him further thrills. Now I stopped.
"Okay, let's take a break. Take a few deep breaths." Tim looked up at me, and inhaled deeply several times. I felt some of the tension leave his body.
"That'll cool you off for a little bit. Tell me when you're ready. I want you to enjoy this, feel every nerve ending when I stroke you."
"I don't know how much longer I can hold on," he said.
"Your fingers are still sliding my foreskin," I pointed out. "This is helping to stimulate you mentally."
"Yeah, it's so hot and sexy holding your cock, knowing it's yours, sliding that skin over the beautiful helmet." As he spoke I resumed caressing his rim, feeling its hardness.
"Let's get you going again. I won't stop now; I'll just go slowly and steadily until you can't hold it any longer and start to cream." My fingertips continued to trace his rim, also working into the deep groove behind it, up and down each side of the engorged corona.
"Try to stay relaxed, Tim. You'll last longer that way. The longer you last the more intense it'll be for you." Now my fingertips circled his slit again, as I knew he was sensitive there too. Now I swiped my fingertips sideways across his slit, spreading and stretching the long lips, and I felt his prick tighten in my hand. He'd resumed moaning and I knew that I'd have his load within seconds.
"Now let's hit your vee-groove," I said and began caressing his gee-string lengthwise. His body stiffened and his eyes closed as his moans grew louder and he began withdrawing into himself.
"Just relax as much as you can, Tim. Your tip's really big now, and very dark. I can feel the tightness in your gee-string too." My fingers slid along the length of his taut frenulum.
"Now I'm pulling down on your shaft-skin to put more tension on your gee-string," I explained as my grip tightened on his shaft, pulling the skin down towards the base and making the front of his big helmet dip.
"I can feel the fren tightening, Tim. Now I'm gonna strum it hard." I changed to a vigorous sideways stroking, and I felt Tim shudder uncontrollably as I did this.
"You're there!" I said as I felt the first hard throb in Tim's rigid shaft. A moment later he cried out helplessly as a thick creamy gush erupted from his long slit and I smelled the odor of chlorine from his fluid. The jet rose in the air and fell onto his stomach as another spasm went through his penis. Tim was grunting hard with each contraction, and the next torrent of hot juice spewed from his straining helmet to land on his stomach. His hips bucked and he cried out again, enraptured by the hot frenzy of his orgasm.
Tim's prick continued to throb, but I said nothing more because I know he was totally caught up in the mind-numbing convulsions of his orgasm and wouldn't hear me. The spurts had slowed to a steady dribble now, and I knew his climax was fading. Tim's fingers were still around my prick, but unmoving, as he'd totally lost his concentration.
Finally he was still, and I gently let his prick down onto his stomach, where it began to soften and shrink. Tim's breathing slowed, and I saw and felt the tension leave his body. I let him lie there to recover, while I enjoyed the memory of feeling his hot hard prick throbbing in my hands as it erupted with streams of hot cream.
There were some Kleenexes on the bedside table, and I decided to wipe him down before he'd recovered. I carefully sopped up the cream on his stomach before it began to congeal, and then dabbed at the big helmet, removing both the Albolene and the residue that was still oozing from his long lips. As I reached under his balls to begin milking him, he opened his eyes.
"Hot, huh?" I asked him, a truly useless question because I knew what the answer would be.
"Oh, it was, it really was!"
"It was great for me, too, because I enjoyed your orgasm vicariously," I continued. "It felt so intimate, with your hot hard prick throbbing in my hand, watching the sperm shooting, and seeing your face as you came."
"I know, Jack," he said. "That's the best part of doing each other. I love it when my partner tenses up and his cock starts throbbing and shooting." He propped himself up on his elbow. "Now I'm gonna do it to you." I lay flat on my back, content and anticipating that hot stimulation he was about too give me. Tim straddled my thighs, giving him a commanding view of my body and face.
"How do you want it?" he asked, his fingers gently stroking my hood up and down the big helmet.
"Any way you want," I answered. "Just as long as it's you touching me I'll enjoy it." I felt his warm fingers tugging down on my hood, skillfully stripping it from my glans until it bunched up behind my rim.
"I think I'll do you the way you did me," he said. "That really put me into seventh heaven, and since your helmet's more sensitive than mine, it ought to make you jump to the ceiling." From the corner of my eyes I saw him dip the fingers of his right hand into the Albolene as he steadied my prick with his left.
"That's gonna really work on me," I said. "A friend of mine taught me that trick. When he began stroking my helmet with his fingertips, I jumped. It's really sensitive for me." Tim began caressing my crown with his lubricated fingertips, making my prick throb reflexively. I began gasping and moaning.
"I felt that," he said. "Sure it's not too intense for you?"
"No, go ahead," I said through gritted teeth. "It's intense, and it feels like I'm gonna come any second, but it'll take me a minute or so."
"Your skin's really thick where it's bunched up behind the rim," he said as he continued running his fingertips around my rim. "I'm gonna pull it back so I can get to the back-face, where it's really sensitive." I felt his strong fingers tighten on my shaft behind the head and drag the fleshy sleeve down to expose the groove behind my ridge.
"Man, that's a deep groove you're got there. I bet it's very sensitive there too," he continued as I felt his fingers sliding around the rear of my rim and dipping into the groove, stimulating the sensitive tissue there was well. I began to moan softly.
"Hah! Ahah! Ahah!" I gasped as his sensual caresses sent hot sparks of sensation stabbing into my glans. Each touch was like an electric pulse, bringing my nerve endings to life and wanting more.
"Now I'll hit the front part of your helmet," he said as he moved the focus of his attention to the dome.
"I'll just go around your slit a little," he explained as his fingertips traced small circles around my dilated orifice. "I like the shape of your hole, like a teardrop," he continued. "It looks really sexy, just waiting to be touched."
"Ahah! Hah! Hah! Hah!" I was moaning helplessly as the acute sensations dug into my helmet, inflaming it and raising my tension.
"Now down the sides of your corona," he said as I felt his fingers tracing my rim up one side to the top and then down the other. "I think your flaring rim looks so sexy." I moaned louder, totally lost in the intense sensations.
"This is really getting to you," he commented. "I can tell because you haven't stopped moaning and your helmet's getting darker. It's harder, too. I can feel that in my fingers." I was moaning even more loudly now, caught up in the excitement, unable to relieve the mounting tension in my body as it responded to his caresses on my sensitive head.
"Your helmet rim's really flaring now because it's so swollen," he continued as his magic fingers traced the outlines of my glans. "If you're like other uncut guys, your helmet's gonna get very sensitive after you start coming. I'll be able to tell because the pitch of your moans is gonna get higher, and then I'll stop stroking." My moaning was very loud now as my body tensed uncontrollably.
"You're close, right on the edge now. Want me to stop?" I couldn't answer, as I barely heard him and all my attention was focused on the intense tickling in my glans.
"HAH! HAH! AAAHHHH!" was all I could verbalize, because I was withdrawing into myself, and becoming overwhelmed by the mind-numbing sensations.
"Your helmet's really dark around the rim, almost black, and more purple toward the front. You're still pinkish around the hole," he narrated as his fingers danced on the surface of my tortured glans, heightening the sensations from a tickle to the familiar hot tingle that told me I was poised on the brink. They swept around my corona, and then plunged into the deep groove under my helmet where the two halves met in a seam, forming a triangular cleft between them. His fingertips strumming my hot spot set me off, triggering the powerful muscles in my cock-root, and I was swept away by the explosion of sensations.
"HAHHHH! HAHHHH! HAHHHH!" I cried loudly as the first spasm churned deep inside me, and I felt the first hot jet squirting into my tube to rush up my shaft to the end. It seared the lips of my hole as it slammed through them, and I writhed helplessly as the massive sensations coursed through my body.
I cried out again as the second spasm contracted my ejaculatory muscles, sending another torrent of hot lava through my shaft, and my body strained with the frenzy of my orgasm. Tim's fingertips swept around my helmet again before returning to press hard into the hot spot under the head, and I cried out again as my third gush poured from my straining helmet.
Suddenly my glans seemed on fire, having become super-sensitive, and my next cry was a helpless squeak as the fourth gush erupted from my tip. I felt Tim's fingers tighten around my shaft as the punishing friction against my glans ceased, but another spasm wracked my body. It felt as if my whole being was extruding through my throbbing prick, and I was a passive witness rocked by sensations.
Tim's fist tugged my shaft-skin back harder to trigger another hot pulse deep inside me, and I moaned again as the jet left my body, leaving me utterly drained. Now the spasms softened, and I felt the fluid dribbling from my engorged tip, as the fury of my orgasm faded from my consciousness.
A few residual spasms in my cock-root ensued, and then I was still and silent, utterly drained and spent. I was in a daze, benumbed by the biological storm that had swept through me, sated and content, happy to lie passively as the glow spread over my body. I don't know how long I lay still, but when I opened my eyes I saw Tim smiling down at me.
"You really shot a lot," he said. "I mean you shot, not dribbled. You were really hot."
"You did that to me," I said. "You were really stimulating. The sensations were so intense when you touched my tip..." I trailed off.
"I could see how hot you were. I felt it, too. "Your helmet was so swollen and dark, and the ridge really stood out. I felt your cock throb hard when you started shooting."
"I know you enjoyed it, like I enjoyed making you cream," I said.
"I really did," he said. "I was really happy I was making you come so hard, and shoot so much. The cream shot several inches from your helmet, and you said you usually dribble."
"Yeah, that was because of you. You did it." As I spoke he leaned forward to plant a dry kiss on my lips, and another on my chin.
"Thanks so much," I whispered. The moment was so tender that I reached up and pulled him down to hug him. We lay that way for a long while, and I noticed that the music of Wagner had stopped.
"Want another glass of wine?" Tim asked as he propped himself on one elbow. I feel like having one, or maybe more than one," He laughed.
"I'll go for that," I said as he rose and I followed him into the kitchen, where we sat naked in the same chairs as before. He poured the rich, full-bodied liquid into our glasses, and we raised them in a silent toast. Our eyes met, and I felt a tingle and a stirring in my prick as his eyes bored into mine.
"That was really hot," he said. "I knew that I'd enjoy going one on one with you. Mutual is a lot of fun, but with you it was something extra-special."
"Same here," I confirmed. "You're really into pricks, and it showed."
"That's partly because yours is so attractive. The helmet's a lot like mine, and I like a cock with a big helmet. That always turns me on."
"It does the same to me, Tim. I'd told you in one of my e-mails that I feel that the glans is the most attractive part of the penis, and you'd said you felt the same way."
"It was great, watching your big helmet get darker, and feeling it throb, when you unloaded."
"Unloaded, Tim? Man, I absolutely drained myself. You just pulled all the cream out of me."
"Oh, I know you shot a lot. That got me so hot, watching you come." I'd noticed Tim's prick swelling as he was speaking, and mine was also responding to the verbal stimulation.
"Tim, I'm still so excited from our action that I think I'll have to relieve myself." I held the glass in my left hand and let my right drop to my prick, which was already half-hard. I began stroking my foreskin up and down, compelled by the pressures inside me. Tim began squeezing his glans, and I saw his prick filling out.
"Oh, Jack, I feel like getting off again too. I wouldn't be able to resist anyway, sitting here watching you get your nice cock all hard and ready to shoot." Now Tim was sliding his shaft-skin to bump his corona.
"I'd like to watch you do yourself this time," I said. "I'm gettin' hot now, and seeing you blow your load would send me over the edge."
"I wanna watch your technique, too, Jack. Watching a hot guy get himself off really excites me." As he spoke I eased forward in my chair, so that my butt was on the edge of the seat, and I noticed that he was doing the same.
"Are you gonna get some lube for yourself?" I asked. Tim went to the bedroom, returning with his fingers slick with Albolene, and I watched as he began spreading a film of the silky lubricant all over his swollen glans and shaft, massaging it in sensually.
"I really need this," I said as I increased the pace of my stroking. "Normally, I like to stretch it out, but I feel a really urgent need to come right now."
"I won't last long either, Jack. Between thinking of what we did before and seeing you stroking that hot skin, I'm very excited."
"Do you think we can stroke ourselves until we get close, and then finish each other off?" I asked.
"We can try, Jack. I'd really love that. Working myself up is all right, but your hand on my cock while I'm coming would be pure heaven." Tim raised his glass with his left hand and drained it. I finished mine as well, and Tim leaned forward to refill our glasses as he continued to pleasure his penis with his right hand. There was a box of Kleenex on the table and Tim reached out and slid it closer to us. Now we were on the same side of the table, facing each other, outstretched legs intertwined, as we continued to excite ourselves.
"This is what I like to do when I get close," I said. :I skin all the way back, and bump the ring of foreskin against my rim." I demonstrated as I spoke, and Tim leaned forward, eager to see it up close.
"I'm glad you skinned it back, Jack. I get off on your helmet."
"Now both our tips are exposed," I added. "We can see them both, watch them swell and get darker."
"I've got a real fetish for helmets, you know," Tim said. "This is doin' a lot for me." His hand cycled faster along the length of his shaft and glans, taking long strokes from base to tip.
"Ours are the same color," I observed. "They both have the same purple color, but at the front they're kinda pink around the hole."
"Yeah, and darker purple around the rims," he answered. "Go ahead, bump that big rim, Jack. I wanna see it flare as it gets bigger."
"Damn, I'm close," I said as I slowed my pace, trying to extend the delicious feeling of anticipation as my tip began to ache for release.
"You're more sensitive than I am," he said. "You're gonna come faster." I felt a drop of lubricant seep into my urethra and begin the long crawl up toward the end.
"I don't know how long I can hold out," I whispered as I slowed my stroking further. I'm pulling back hard to stretch the nerve endings in the skin. That feels so good."
"Go nice and slow," he coached me. "Just stretch it out, while I watch your helmet get bigger and darker. When you can't hold out anymore and you start to shoot, I'll wrap my fingers around your helmet and give it a couple of twists to give you an extra thrill." My eyes closed as he spoke, and I felt the sensations building to the breaking point in my prick and root.
"HAAAAAHHHH!" I cried out as the rush of sensations peaked and the heavy pounding of orgasm began in my cock-root. I felt the sudden pressure as Tim's lubricated fingers closed around my glans, twisting hard as the first thick gush poured from my tip.
"HAAAHHHH!" I cried out again as my glans exploded with sensation against the friction of his fingers and another torrent of hot lava rushed up my tube, slamming through the lips in my cock-head to erupt into the air. I felt his fingers twist over my tip, applying more friction and triggering another hot spasm deep inside me, sending another burning gush to sear its way up my prick.
I cried out again and felt his fingers release me as another spasm gripped me. My prick throbbed and another torrent of juice shot from my straining tip. I was holding my skin back hard, helpless against the mind-numbing sensations that shot through my body, and I felt several more spasms before it was over.
I sat with legs extended, utterly still, totally dazed, as the tension left my body. I became aware of the total silence, and realized that Tim wasn't stroking himself at all before I opened my eyes to see him sitting, looking at me, his hand wrapped around his prick. A warm feeling of tenderness for him filled me.
"That was beautiful," he said when he realized I was back to full consciousness. "That was so hot and sexy. I would have come right then if I hadn't stopped stroking."
"I believe it, Tim. I can see your balls are tight against your body, and your tip's very dark." I pulled my foreskin forward and wrapped my prick with a Kleenex to catch the drips.
"Okay, I'm gonna start again, nice and slow."
"Good, Tim. I'm gonna be right here for you, watching you all the way." As I spoke, Tim began stroking his shaft, bringing his lubricated fingers up to caress the bloated glans at the top of each slow stroke. I moved my chair closer to his.
"I'm so turned on from watching you shoot that I'll be ready to pop in a minute," he said.
"Let me help you when you come," I offered. "I know it feels much better with another guy's fingers on your prick. You proved that to me just a couple of minutes ago."
"Oh, yeah, I want you to push me over the edge," he replied.
"How close are you?" I asked. "You look pretty hot. Your balls are tight, your tip's dark and swollen, and I see you leaked a drop of lube."
"Not long, not long..." He answered. "Half a minute, maybe." His fingers continued to run up and down his shaft and swollen tip, bringing him closer to the brink. When he got to the bottom of the stroke the tension on his gee-string pulled down the front of his glans.
"Suppose you do like I did," I suggested. "Just stroke up to your rim. That way, without the pressure of your fingers, your head'll expand all the way, and get more sensitive. Just work around your scar and the skin ahead of it, but keep pulling down hard on the back-stroke. That must make the head feel good because it's stretching your nerve endings."
"Oh, my helmet always gets pulled down when I pull back hard on the skin," he said.
"Yeah, I noticed that earlier. Keep on doing that and I'll stroke your helmet when you're at the edge," I said. Tim continued to work his prick, and I watched the front of his shapely helmet dip each time he pulled back on his shaft skin.
"Gettin' there," he whispered as I watched the tension build in his body. His legs were spread out and his stomach muscles tightened in preparation for the explosive release. Now his eyes closed and his jaw clenched. His strokes became harder, yanking down the shaft skin each time, as his beautiful tip reached its final swelling and began dribbling lubricant.
"Aaaahhhhh!" he moaned as the sensations reached a crescendo. I placed my fingertips on the front dome of his straining helmet, spreading the slippery tears from its weeping eye, and felt the hard throb hammer against my fingertips as he began convulsing in climax.
"HAAAHHH!" he cried out as the first jet shot from his slit into my palm. I grasped the hand encircling his shaft and pulled down hard to tug on his frenulum as my fingertips danced over the rounded front of his glans, and I felt the second hard throb as he released another torrent of white cream.
Tim's chest was heaving as the fury of his orgasm wracked his body, and he moaned again as the third jet spurted from his straining helmet. I twisted my fingertips around the purple dome to make him shoot again, and was rewarded by another hot discharge. I smelled the chlorine odor of his fluid as it dripped from my palm down onto the swollen head and shaft.
He continued moaning as his spasms weakened and the peak of the orgasm faded. I felt a few minor throbs in his tip and then he became still, eyes still closed as he sat dazed by the hot frenzy that had gripped him. I removed my hands and watched his prick soften as his breathing slowed. Then I wrapped a Kleenex around the shrinking helmet and waited for him to recover.
"Man, that was terrific," he said as his eyelids fluttered open. "I really needed relief and you gave it to me." I began milking his urethra, from back to front, soaking the tissue.
"You did the same for me," I said.
"Oh, Jack, it was so nice doing it for each other," he said. We looked at each other for a minute, appreciating the intimacy, and then he spoke again:
"Feeling your fingertips rubbing the front of my helmet while my gee-string was stretched tight was absolutely the best. That just sent me flying." He gazed into my eyes as he said this.
"I was so glad to do it for you," I replied. "It was a hot vicarious thrill for me to feel your big helmet throbbing." Tim blew me a kiss and said:
"We haven't eaten since you arrived. You hungry?"
"No, not really," I replied. "I'm just so relaxed right now I can't even think of food."
"I feel the same way," he said. "Maybe we ought to have more wine and then sleep." He reached for the bottle and refilled our glasses.
"We can eat in the morning," I proposed. "We'll go out and I'll spring for breakfast."
"That's a plan," he said. "Now where do you want to sleep? I've got an extra bedroom, or you can sleep with me."
"Where do you think?" I asked with a grin. He rose and led me by the hand to the big queen-size bed. We lay down, and Tim pulled the sheet up to cover us. I felt his fingers clasping my penis.
"I'd like to hold on to your cock," he said. "You mind?"
"No, I love it. You won't mind if I hold yours?" I slid my hand down his body to clasp his warm penis. He turned toward me and we fell asleep in each other's arms.
End of Part 1