Whirlpool By Jack Santoro Jackinnm1@yahoo.com
Bob and I enjoyed soaking in our whirlpool after work. We were both 30, about six feet, medium builds, but Bob was blond, with blue eyes, in contrast to my brown/brown. Shortly after we'd bought our house three years ago we'd had a whirlpool installed. It was on an enclosed patio just outside our bathroom, which made it very convenient, as we could take a shower before getting and rinse off the chlorine after getting out. One special feature we'd had installed was a heavy-duty filtering system, which was very handy for our special application.
This evening we'd met at a pizza shop after work and had shared a large pepperoni pizza, washed down with some Pepsi-Cola, our favorite. Our stomachs satisfied, we immediately stripped down and washed off the day's sweat when we got home, and dunked ourselves in the hot tub. It was large enough for four, which gave us plenty of room.
I reached through the streams of bubbles for Bob's prick, which was drifting in the swirling currents, and began gently squeezing the head through the thick enveloping foreskin. Bob reached for mine, and began tugging on the long foreskin nipple that extended beyond my large, helmet-shaped head.
Apart from compatible personalities, our main similarity and attraction was that we both had the pricks nature had given us, unlike the unfortunate majority of American males who suffer foreskin amputation shortly after birth and are therefore deprived of the many sensitive nerve endings the foreskin contains. As masturbating kids, we'd quickly learned the advantages a natural prick has over the chopped and cropped model, and we'd made the most of it. We enjoyed the greater variety of strokes available to those who still have their foreskins, and over the years we'd known each other we'd refined our techniques to bring each other to intense, mind-shattering orgasms.
Our pricks began to swell under this stimulation, and it didn't take us long to become fully hard. We're well matched, since we both have about six inches, with straight shafts. Gentle tugs and squeezes heightened our excitement, and we were happy to take our time because we knew that a slow and prolonged build-up was the key to attaining more intense orgasms. We both have abundant foreskins, and even erect our helmets are fully covered. Since our pricks start small and double in size, we have long nipples hanging off the end when limp. Bob's hood is a little looser than mine, but I like the feel of the tightness, since it takes only gentle up and down strokes, with no pressure, to stimulate me. "Want me to start skinning you back?" he asked. I nodded and I felt his fingers tighten around the middle of my shaft, exerting traction that brought my foreskin back in slow stages. We both enjoy the stretching of the puckered front end of our foreskins over the big bulge of the helmet. Stretching those exquisitely sensitive nerve endings produces a really erotic sensation without the danger of pushing us over the edge before we're ready. "That feels so good," I sighed as I clasped his prick the same way he was holding mine. I began pulling down on the skin, and could tell by feel that the ring muscle at the end of his foreskin was being widened by the blunt nose of his glans. I felt a responsive throb in his shaft as I tugged, and then I released the tension. Now I pulled back again, a little farther this time, to stretch his hood a little more. Bob was also stretching mine in stages, and right now I felt that the opening of my hood was about the size of a quarter as it slid part-way down my tapering head. I raised my hips a bit, just enough to see that the blunt nose of my purple helmet was pushing through the widening orifice in my thick fleshy sleeve. Bob also raised his hips, and I saw that his shapely helmet was about half-way out of his hood, with the long piss-lips gaping.
"I like the way your hole pouts when you're hard," he told me. "Looks just like a teardrop." As he spoke I noticed that a large drop of clear liquid had parted the lips of his long slit.
"You're juicing," I commented as I pulled his hood all the way up to engulf the head and catch the drop of lubricant. I gave his sheath a slow twist to spread the precious fluid around the glans, and then pulled it back down almost to the flaring rim. Bob sighed as the nerve endings in his foreskin came to full stretch, sending erotic messages down his prick. Another clear drop oozed through his slit, and I placed my palm flat on top of his helmet, gently massaging back and forth, spreading the lips of his meatus to make him sigh again.
"That's really doing it for me," he whispered, and I knew that he was responding well to the stimulation, as he always did. We were very good at stimulating each other, as we knew intimately what the other liked. Actually, our tastes were very similar.
"Are you ready to cream now?" I asked him tenderly.
"Whenever you want, Jack. I'll do you afterward," he replied. We always had our orgasms one after the other, as we'd discovered that coming together deprived us of half the fun. We both enjoyed being fully conscious when we made the other come, so that we could pay full attention to the other's pulsing prick, and the hot jets that spurted out of the end. We also enjoyed hearing the other's groans and grunts, as well as watching the facial expression during climax.
I pulled back harder on Bob's hood, baring the big purple helmet right down to the groove behind the flaring rim, as I continued to rub my palm over the front dome of his glans. Bob continued to hold my prick, but didn't stroke me, as he just concentrated on his own sensations. I saw his body relax, but I knew he wouldn't remain relaxed for long because the excitement would make him tense up as the magic moment approached.
"Your tip's getting harder now, and darker purple," I said. I knew that hearing this would enhance his excitement, as it did for me. "I'm going to pull back harder on your skin." I knew that stretching his foreskin all the way back and stretching his frenulum would add to the physical sensations the same way it added to mine. Actually, our foreskins were so sensitive that we could come just by pulling back on the skin, without bringing it forward to bump or rub the head. The friction on the front dome was just a bonus.
Bob's lips drew back as his orgasm approached, a rictus of hot sexuality. I found myself becoming more excited just watching this, as I was enjoying his mounting sensations vicariously as I worked him up to the peak. I knew his balls were tightening as well.
"Your prick's beautiful," I said as I continued to massage his straining glans and keep his shaft skin and gee-string under tension. "I'm going to enjoy watching you shoot." Bob always shot at least a foot into the air, his powerful ejaculatory muscles pumping hard to eject the hot cream.
"Ooooohhh!" he moaned as the sensations built up in his body. His breathing was ragged as his muscles tightened up and I knew I'd have his load within seconds. He was too far gone to resist, and the multiple sensations I was applying to his prick too powerful to withstand. His shaft felt rock-hard in my encircling fingers, and his helmet was totally engorged, the rim flaring out fully during these last seconds.
His body began trmbling with involuntary spasms as the sensations overwhelmed him, and now I felt a powerful throb in his shaft that told me the first load was on its way. I quickly removed my palm so as not to obstruct the orifice, and watched the hot jet spurting up over a foot in the air, coming down in the swirling bubbles. This was why we had a special filter system on our whirlpool.
Pressing my palm back against his throbbing helmet I gave it a couple more swipes and felt the second hard throb. This time I kept my palm working on his bulging, throbbing front dome, and felt the hit sperm as it flooded my palm. I kept up the friction, realizing that the sensations would be softened by the viscosity of the thick fluid, and dragged his skin downward a bit harder. Bob was in full flight now, crying out helplessly, as I drew the orgasm from his shuddering body. More throbs filled his glans and shaft, and more gushes poured between my palm and his hot tip, until he was totally drained. I let up at the end, because we both knew that our pricks became overly sensitive during orgasm and too much friction would be unpleasant.
Bob sagged down into the hot bubbling water was his body relaxed and I watched the tension drain from his face. His eyes were closed but his hand still grasped my prick. I waited patiently for him to recover from the daze that follows orgasm. His prick lost its rigidity and softened in my hand, and I gently eased the foreskin up over the shrinking head.
"Wow, Jack, that was hot," he said as he opened his eyes. "You really made my tip tingle." I let go his prick and reached down to feel his scrotum sag in the hot water, now that the excitement had left his body. He turned to kiss me on the lips, and I hugged him to me.
"I'm glad it was good for you," I said. "You were pretty loud when you came."
"You're always loud when you get off," he pointed out. "That's how I know you're getting your jollies." I felt his hand squeeze my prick and draw my foreskin down part-way.
"Now just relax while I get you ready," he said as he reached for a bottle of Astroglide we kept on the edge of the whirlpool. "You don't have as much lube as I do and I've got to get you wet and slippery." I raised my hips to bring the end of my prick out of the water, and he poured several drops of the cold lubricant on the front dome of my helmet, quickly spreading it with his palm.
"That feels good," I said. "Your hand is so warm."
"Now I'll lube up the rest of you," he told me as his strong fingers pulled down harder on my skin to uncover the entire helmet. His slippery fingers wrapped around my bulging purple head and lubricated it right down to the flaring rim and I felt my prick throb in response. Still holding my foreskin back, he applied a few more drops of the magic lubricant to my tip and now began massaging the dome with his palm, as I'd done to him. We both loved this action, as we knew it produced very hot orgasms.
"Now I'm going to start the rhythm," he said and I felt him tug my skin down in short jerks. "Your gee-string's shorter than mine and it pulls the head down each time." I felt my glans dipping with each downward pull, which put extra tension on my frenulum and added to the sensations.
"I won't last long," I told him. "I'm already hot from watching you come, and you'll finish me off pretty quickly." I consciously relaxed my body, especially my crotch muscles, to avoid coming too quickly, but I had to maintain some tension to keep my prick out of the bubbling water, and I knew this would hasten my climax.
"Are your balls getting tight yet?" he asked. Normally our scrotums were totally relaxed from the effect of the hot water, but now I felt a tightening as my balls drew up toward my body.
"Yeah, getting there, Bob."
"How's it feel on your tip?" he asked.
"Pretty intense," I answered. I was breathing deeply now, trying to remain relaxed, but it wasn't working. My breaths became shallower and more rapid, and I felt the tension building up in my body.
"I'm feeling your tip getting harder," he observed.
"Each time you pull the skin down I feel a throb deep inside." The combination of tugs on my gee-string and glans and the delicious friction against my front dome were irresistible, and I was rapidly approaching the point of no return. Now I was breathing in gasps, and moaning between breaths. I looked at my prick and saw that my helmet had turned dark purple, especially the corona.
"Yeah, I can feel those throbs in your shaft," Bob remarked. "It won't be long now."
"My tip's tingling," were my last words before the advancing excitement made me speechless, able only to groan and grunt. I grunted with each downward jerk on the skin as I felt the head dip down toward my toes. Now I began thrusting my hips up to meet each downward tug of his fingers, unable to resist because I was helpless in his hands. His palm compressed the front dome of my glans as he massaged it side to side, and I felt the tingle center around the pouting lips of my orifice.
"You're ready," he announced. "Just let it happen, buddy." Suddenly his fingers wrapped around my helmet and he gave it a sharp twist, hitting the sensitive, flaring rim, and I cried out as I felt the heavy pounding of orgasm begin deep inside me.
The first hot stream seemed to sear my urethra as it bubbled up through my prick, emerging through the widely spread lips of my slit and through Bob's fingers. My eyes were closed but I know I didn't shoot high, just a couple of inches. I grunted hard as my hips thrust up again and another hot gush poured into my tube to begin its race up my prick. The hot tingle in my tip pervaded my entire prick, traveling down in waves of pleasure and then spreading inside my body. I was caught up in the free-fall of my orgasm, and responding mindlessly to my sensations.
Another spasm wracked my body as another hot discharge burned its way up my prick, and I cried out again, louder than before because this third one seemed more intense. Another wrenching spasm followed, but not as intense, although I was still grunting hard. After another couple of convulsions in my prick-root, I felt only mild contraction, and I knew that, while I was still unloading, the cream was only oozing out the end of my prick.
I yelped because suddenly my tip became super-sensitive, and Bob stopped rubbing my front dome. He still maintained tension on my skin because I could tolerate that and it would keep the last of my orgasm going until I was drained.
"That was hot," I heard Bob say as I began to relax and my prick lost its hardness. I sank back into the water and let the trance-like state overwhelm my consciousness. Time passed, and the only thing I was aware of was Bob's strong but gentle fingers easing my foreskin up over my soft glans.
"I've got to pee," Bob told me. "We'd better get out of the tub." My bladder was sending me signals too, and I said:
"Me, too. The filtration system removes sperm, but not liquids like urine." We didn't want to be floating in our own urine. We got out and went into the bathroom, standing side by side in front of the sink. Bob and I skinned, back so that we'd have neat streams and not risk splattering. I consciously relaxed my sphincter and watched my yellow stream begin, flushing out the residue of my sperm. Bob's stream began a second after mine, and they mixed in the bottom of the sink. After we'd finished, we milked our pricks and pushed the foreskins down to cover the helmets and protect them from drying out. We were sitting in the kitchen, just stating on a couple of bottles of beer, when the phone rang. Bob arose and picked up.
"Okay, that's good. See you in a few," I heard him say before he hung up. "That was Eric," he said to me. "He wants to come over." Eric was a sometimes sex partner and very personable. He was abut our age, and we always enjoyed spending an evening with him.
It was only a few minutes later that Eric arrived. We led him to the kitchen and asked if he wanted a beer.
"No, not really," he answered. "Did you guys get your rocks off this evening?"
"We just did about half an hour ago," I said. "Why don't you join us and we'll help you. We're totally drained." Eric removed his clothes, piling them on a chair, and we all went out to the whirlpool. I turned on the lights, knowing that the blinds were down and no curious neighbor could see inside.
Unlike us, Eric had been circumcised at birth, and had a thick brown circular Gomco Clamp scar on his shaft. The big purple-pink helmet with its boldly flaring rim was swinging in full view as he walked. We immersed ourselves, Eric between us, and Bob turned on the pump to generate a cloud of bubbles that massaged our bodies as we relaxed in the hot water
"We'll both help you get off," Bob told him. Don't worry about us. We're through for the night." I reached down and felt Eric's scrotum. It had been moderately tight when he'd disrobed but now was dropping down as his cremaster muscles relaxed with the heat. He closed his eyes as I tickled his scrotal hairs.
"Aaaahhh, that feels good," Eric said. I moved my hand up to squeeze his prick and felt Bob's hand working down to cup Eric's balls. Eric's prick was swelling, and I gently slid his shaft-skin up to bump against his rim. He hadn't been circumcised tightly like some unlucky guys, and had some slack skin that allowed for growth. He also still had his frenulum, and both Bob and I knew how sensitive that was, with its concentrated cluster of nerve endings.
Now Eric's prick was fully swollen, and my fingers traced the contours of his glans, from the big blunt nose, down the tapering sides, and to the flaring corona that stood out from the shaft. Like us, Eric had a straight shaft and overall his erection was about six inches.
"I can feel his balls tightening," Bob observed.
"His prick's hard too," I added. "He's really eager tonight."
"Oooohhhh, your hands feel so good on me," he said as we continued to fondle his genitals. I kept stroking his shaft skin, paying special attention to his thick gee-string which filled the triangular groove under the head with each forward stroke. I knew that rubbing and compressing the nerve endings in that area really heightened his pleasure, especially combined with bumping the skin against his big thick rim.
"Raise your hips a little," Bob urged him. "I want to get your cock out of the water so I can use my palm on the front of the head." We'd often done this together, and we knew that it was as exciting for Eric as it was for us. Eric's prick emerged from the bubbles and Bob squirted a spoonful of Astroglide into his right palm and began rubbing the dome of Eric's helmet. His left hand again dipped into the water to cup his balls. I was still holding Eric's shaft with my right hand, holding it upright as I continued to stroke his shaft-skin.
"I want to hold your cocks," Eric said as he reached to either side to grasp our pricks. "Feeling those foreskins makes me so hot." He was kneading our pricks, probably envious of our natural equipment. He'd told us several times in the past that he wished his prick were like ours.
"That feels so hot," Eric whispered as Bob and I continued to stimulate him in several different ways. We knew that although Eric's prick wasn't as sensitive as ours we'd quickly bring on his orgasm because we were working in tandem to get him hot.
"His shaft's rock-hard," I commented to Bob. "How's the head doing?" I was massaging Eric's nipples with my left hand as I spoke, because we knew that he was nipple-sensitive.
"The head's harder now," Bob reported. "He's really going to cream when he gets off."
"You bet I will," Eric confirmed. "That hot action on my tip's really doing it to me." Bob lifted his hand for a moment and I saw that Eric's engorged helmet had turned from pinkish-purple to a darker shade. Bob's palm came down on the front dome again and began a twisting motion. Some lubricant had flowed down the head, lubricating my fingers, and I took advantage of this to begin a twisting motion against his thick flaring corona.
"Ooooohhhh," Eric exclaimed. "That's really sending me." I dropped my left hand from his nipples to clasp the base of his shaft, pulling down hard on the skin to tense his frenulum. I saw his big tip dip down slightly, pulled down by the gee-string, as Eric moaned again, louder this time. His breathing was becoming labored as his excitement rose, and I felt the tension building in his body.
"His balls are really tight now," Bob told me. Eric's body was tightening up, and we saw the tension in his face as his jaw clenched. He was grunting hard now, and we knew we had him very close to the edge.
"Just let go, Eric, and let us make you come," Bob urged. "We're both here for you and you're going to drain your tanks tonight." Now Eric's body was trembling as his eyes clamped shut, the way mine do when I'm ready to come. His grunts became higher-pitched, and I knew he was on the edge, within a second of losing his sperm.
Eric cried out as his body shuddered hard, and I felt his shaft throb hard between my encircling fingers. A second later I saw the flow of white cream emerging from between his helmet and Bob's palm. I twisted my fingers around his rim to give him another hard jolt of sensation. Eric took a deep, gasping breath and then his hips bucked as he thrust his prick hard against Bob's palm and shot another copious gush that flowed down his glans to lubricate my tightly encircling fingers. I gave his corona another hard twist and he gasped again, helpless in our hands, as he thrust upward again. The cream flowed freely down his prick and floated away in the water as he continued to release his hot streams.
His throbs were weaker now, although he continued to cry out with each spasm, a sure sign that he was nearing "empty." Bob and I kept working on him to give him every possible sensation before it was all over. Finally, we heard him sigh and felt him start to relax. He collapsed into the water, surrounded by droplets of sperm that the pump and filter would soon remove. I hugged him to me, holding him tightly, and Bob snuggled up to his other side to give him comfort and security as he came down off his high. When Eric revived enough to speak, it was merely to whisper
"Thanks, guys." We helped him out of the whirlpool and into the bathroom because we were sure he'd want to pee to flush out his pipes. I held his prick aimed into the sink and half a minute later we saw the yellow stream begin. When he'd finished I milked his shaft and used a bit of toilet paper to dab away the last drops. Then we went off to our big king-size bed for a good night's sleep.
The end