Foreskin Play With Ronnie

Ronnie was short and chunky, about 5'8" compared to my slender 6'2", blond, and his cock matched his muscular body, a wrinkled, tapering worm with a thick pucker at the end. He was 67, four years older than I, but in better shape than I. Like me, he wore trifocals, but unlike me, he wore a mustache. I'd met him in the Internet chat room, and we'd enjoyed cyber-sex together several times. He lived about 50 miles away from me, but at freeway speeds, this was less than an hour's drive.

We'd decided to get together for some in-person sex, and that hot Saturday morning when he rang my doorbell I rushed to let him in. He was exactly as he'd described himself, and I saw the look of relief on his face when he saw that my self-description had been as accurate as his. I'd been wearing only shorts, and I dropped these after leading Ronnie to the bedroom.

I turned to watch him disrobe, and this show took only about ten seconds as he discarded shirt, shorts, and sandals. His cock looked like a wrinkled, smoothly tapered worm, with a thick pucker at the end. Mine had a distinct widening where the head pushed out the foreskin, which narrowed at the end to form a nipple beyond the glans.

"I like the beautiful bulge at the end of your prick," he commented. "It's just like you said it was." We sat on the bed facing each other, our cocks slightly more than a foot apart.

"We both have lots of foreskin," I replied. I was very happy that our cocks had not felt the bite of the blade. Our foreskins had been the reason we'd taken to each other on the chat and in person, because guys with foreskins know how to handle natural dicks. Some cut guys don't know what to do with a partner's foreskin because theirs had been removed at birth.

Ronnie grasped the end of my foreskin between two fingers and began rolling it, twisting the thick hood over my glans, and I felt my cock begin to respond. I ran one hand along the inside of his thighs, then began tickling the hairs on his low hangers. I watched his scrotum contract, bringing his balls up against his body. Mine were already there, as I have a tight scrotum.

Now I began gently squeezing the thick worm protruding from his sparse blond pubic bush. My fingers felt for the glans through the thick skin, and I gave the ridge a few squeezes. His prick throbbed slightly in my hand as his bulbo-cavernal reflex kicked in with each squeeze of the glans.

The outline of his glans became visible through the thick skin as it expanded, and within about 30 seconds we were both fully hard. I spread a towel between us, as I was sure we'd soon be dribbling. My penis measures an honest six inches, from pubic bone to the end of my glans. If I stretch out the hood, it's a bit more. Ronnie's seemed to be slightly longer than mine, but his hood extended another half inch beyond the end even with a hard-on. I tweaked the end of his foreskin.

"I'm so glad you're here," I said. "Cyber is okay, but feeling your warm fingers wrapped around my prick is heavenly."

"Both our cock-heads are still covered," he commented. "A lot of guys' skins pull back when they get hard."

"You can pull mine back, if you do it in slow stages," I urged. His fingers tightened on my foreskin and slipped it back enough to bare the front dome of my big purple helmet. The fresh, musky aroma of my foreskin and glans filled the air.

"Nice smell," Ronnie said as he pushed my hood forward, then tugged it back a bit farther. More of my purple dome protruded, and Ronnie observed: "Your tip is purple. When you get mine back, you'll see it's red."

"Yours uncovers then," I said. "Should I strip it back fast or slow?"

"Nice and slow," he replied. "It didn't always skin back. When I was in my teens I couldn't get it back at all, even when soft. The school doctor wanted to circumcise my prick, but my father wouldn't let him."

"I'm glad he didn't," I said. "I prefer your prick this way. I began slipping his tight foreskin back slowly, as he had mine. The nose of his red glans appeared, and I saw the slit at the end. A drop of clear fluid parted its lips. I pushed the skin tube forward to cover the head, then pulled it back farther. Ronnie's prick aroma wafted up and I said:

"I love the smell of your cock. It's heavy and musky, very sexy." I pushed his foreskin forward again, then slipped it back farther, almost to the rim of the head. His cock-head was smaller than mine, tapering sharply to a small nose, and I wanted to skin him completely to see his rim. Ronnie was ready to unskin my glans, and I saw the edge of my long thick hood poised on the flaring rim.

"I like the way your rim flares," he said as he gave a final tug that made the foreskin snap down into the deep groove behind my rim. "Makes it look like a helmet."

"I'd like it even better if it were bell-shaped, with the flare continuing all around the rim. I think that's really sexy looking."

"I like yours just the way it is. Look at your slit, shaped like a teardrop. That's sexy." Ronnie pulled back harder on my skin, baring the groove as the thick skin collar slipped farther back along my shaft. "That's the way you masturbate, right? With the skin pulled all the way back?"

"That's what I do when I'm ready to come," I replied. "I like to watch the head swell all the way, without the foreskin or my fingers squeezing it."

"Yeah, you told me about it on the chat. I shot my load reading your description."

As Ronnie spoke, my fingers pulled his shroud all the way back, revealing his flat corona. It had no flare, and it stood about 1/8" above the shaft. I touched his wet tip lightly with one fingertip. Ronnie shuddered, gasping as a drop of clear lube poured from his slit.

"Wow, that feels so sensitive," he urged. "My tip's always been very sensitive. Now slide the skin up and down." I slid his foreskin all the way up, covering the head once more.

"My tip used to be too sensitive to touch directly when I was younger. I'd get off just jiggling the skin over it. Now it's not as sensitive as before, but still pretty tender."

"We all lose sensitivity when we get older," I said. "At our age we can use all the sensitivity we have."

"That's for sure," Ronnie replied. "There are guys in their 60s who just can't do anything anymore. You and I are lucky our pricks still work. I think having foreskin keeps the head sensitive." While speaking, Ronnie's hand had been insistently moving my foreskin over the bulging head in long, sensual strokes. I'd been fondling and squeezing his tip through the thick hood.

"I think you just might be ready to go," I suggested. "Want me to make you come the way you described on the chat?"

"Yeah, make me come in my hood," he said. "I always like the feel of my hot cream spreading over the head." I grasped the end of his foreskin between thumb and forefinger of my left hand, and with my right I twisted the skin behind it left and right over his glans.

"Did you ever watch yourself shoot?" I asked.

"Yeah, a few times, years ago. I like to watch my foreskin swell when the juice fills it, though."

"You a shooter or a dribbler?" I asked.

"Mine always shoots out," he replied. "How about you?"

"When I do myself, I usually dribble. When another guy's hand is on my prick, I often shoot the first couple of jets. At least, that's what they tell me. My eyes usually close when I'm about to come."

"Well, this time I'll tell you what happens. I can't wait to watch that big helmet of yours turn dark purple and shoot its load." Ronnie's breathing had deepened as we'd spoken, and now my fingers felt his glans harden through the enveloping skin.

"You're close, Ronnie," I said. "Want to lie back?"

"No, I'll sit and watch it happen," he replied. I tightened my grip on the end of his foreskin to make sure there were no leaks as I kept twisting the skin over his engorged tip.

"Just remember, you don't have to keep stroking once my orgasm starts. It'll go by itself. Just keep the end of the skin closed." He added. "OH-OH-OH," I heard Ronnie grunt as his sensations built up, bringing him closer to the moment of release. He stared intently at his prick, watching me stimulate it. We couldn't see it, but I was sure the head had turned darker color under the hood.

I felt the first pulse in his glans, and his foreskin jerked between my fingers as Ronnie shot his first load. His cry of joyful agony filled the air as the sensations of orgasm overwhelmed him. His prick throbbed again and as I'd removed my hand I saw the foreskin begin to distend with his juice. I felt every pulse through the end of his foreskin as his prick jerked with the jets of orgasm, and the foreskin bulged to twice normal diameter around the head. Ronnie groaned in ecstasy, his stomach muscles quivering, as the heavy sensations ran their course through his body.

When his penis had stopped throbbing I reached for a wad of tissues because I knew he'd have a lot of juice seeping from the end of his foreskin. I held the tissues under the end of his prick as I slowly released the end of his hood. A gush of white cream emerged, and I estimated that he'd shot at least two tablespoons of cream. The characteristic chlorine odor filled the air. His prick began to soften, and I carefully wiped the puckered end, leaving the head covered because I knew his tip would be too sensitive to wipe right after orgasm.

"Now it's your turn," he said, as he pushed me back flat on the bed. He'd let go of my penis while I was building him up to orgasm, but mine was still hard from the excitement of watching him come. Ronnie spread the towel over my stomach and resumed stroking my hood back and forth over the head.

I relaxed every muscle in my body, as the sensations absorbed my attention. I felt a tickle begin in the rim of my cock-head as Ronnie snapped my foreskin back and forth over it. The tickle gradually filled the entire head and became hypnotic because my mind focused on the sensation, ignoring everything else. My breathing deepened and my awareness of the world outside me receded as the delicious tickle in my cock-head captured all my attention. The tickle changed to a hot tingle, and I began to cry out with the intensity of the sensations. I heard myself going:

"AH-AH-HAHHH" as the hot tingle filling my glans became stronger. My eyes closed.

"Your tip's getting darker," I heard Ronnie say in the distance. "You're close now." I felt his fingers peeling back my hood all the way, tugging hard to stretch the nerve endings, and this sent hot sparks of sensation stabbing into my prick. My fully engorged glans ached for release.

"My tip's tingling," I whispered, barely able to get the words out as I felt Ronnie's fingers push my foreskin forward to bump my ridge lightly. He pulled my foreskin back again, stretching the nerve endings and making me moan louder. I felt my crotch muscles tighten as orgasm rushed to me, and I cried out helplessly. I felt a drop of liquid crawling up my tube, lubricating the way for the geyser to come.

I saw bright lights before my eyes as the world exploded and the heavy pounding of orgasm began in my cock-root. My entire mind was in my throbbing prick as the first hot jet burned its way up my tube. I heard my anguished cries of joy distantly as another spasm gripped my cock-root, sending another gush up my penis. I felt Ronnie's fingers pushing and pulling on my tightly stretched hood, making my nerve endings vibrate. I don't know how many spasms wracked my cock-root before it was all over.

My breathing returned to normal, and I opened my eyes to see Ronnie looking down at me.

%2 2Man, that was a sight," he said. "I watched your tip get dark purple, and the ridge really flared out when I skinned you back. Then you started shooting, really shooting, and I felt your cock throbbing in my hand as it drained itself. If I hadn't already come, just watching and feeling your prick shoot would have pushed me over the edge."

The throbs in my prick had subsided, but I saw that an occasional drop would seep out of the opening my my softening glans. Ronnie pushed my foreskin forward to envelope the tip, and this milked more white drops from my prick. They fell onto the towel, joining the pools of cream cooling in the air.

"I think you shot ten inches, those first jets," he continued. "Then you slowed down, and at the end your tip was just dribbling."

"Thanks," I said softly. "That was terrific." Ronnie wiped off my penis, and we snuggled together to sleep, resting for what was to be a weekend of hot sex.

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written by jackinnm