John obviously knew what I needed--he pushed the trash in his wheeled bin down with one of his massive arms, glanced at me with another smile then leaned against my desk. He started talking about how much he enjoyed working in our building and how much he enjoyed his job. I was a little less nervous; I figured he was just a talkative, sweet guy that loves to chat but as he went on about how much he liked his work one thing occurred to me: in the five minutes he was telling me about his job, John managed to tell me four times that he worked by himself. I picked up on this and asked him if he didn't get lonely at night. He fixed me with his gaze and replied, "Lonely? Not really but some nights I wish I had a buddy around to help me out..."
Executive Overtime
Billy And The Colonel's Closet
He made me sit on the bed. "Ever suck a guy, Billy?" I nodded, but it had been a much smaller guy, a long time ago! "Suck me, Billy..." he ordered. I hooked my thumbs in the waist band of his briefs, and lowered them to reveal one of the nicest un-cut cocks I had ever seen. He moved closer. I kissed his hardness. It jumped! I was happy to be able to please him. My own cock had found it's love-tunnel in the layers of quilted nylon in the suits I was wearing. The Colonel pushed me down on the bed and mounted me. He was dragging his penis all over the flight suit pants and parka. He started to undress me. "This will be a lot of fun, if you have all the stuff on that I left out for you!" So THAT'S what the pile of flight gear and quilted nylon undies was there for, as bait!
Blacks Can Moan
I didn't want to start a fight, I mean he was already a bit too angry, but we hadn't had one in awhile, so if we were going to let our feelings out at any time, now would be the time. So I kept the heat on. "Wow. Well when I'm in my bedroom, which happens to be next to the shower, I can hear you beating off! You fucking bang your hands...or arms, or whatever the fuck you bang, against the wall and I hear it when he masturbate. How you masturbate in that shower, I don't know...but you do. I hear your moans, and I hear the beatings on the wall, so don't give me this bullshit" I was pissed.
Edging With My Dick
After Jim's death in a traffic accident when I was 25, I found another sex partner, Bob, whose prick, like mine, also had escaped the scalpel because his parents had been appalled at the results of their first son's circumcision. Bob had a nice thin foreskin covering his plump, rounded cock-head right to the end, forming a tight pucker. His erection also measured a little over six inches, but his foreskin would retract to bare his beautiful purple glans and he would jack himself by pulling his hood up over the head. All I had to do for a quick jack was jiggle my long foreskin, and soon white jets would sluice out the opening at the end. We both have big, sensitive tips, fully formed, with attractive flaring ridges.
Evening With Charlie
"Sometimes, I put on a condom, close my eyes, and pretend it's a foreskin, but I always know it isn't." Now we were only a couple of feet apart, and Charlie reached for my prick, grasping it by the nipple. He rolled it back and forth between his fingers, and the tickling feeling this produced in my glans gave me a full erection. His cock was swelling too, even though I hadn't yet touched it. We lay on the bed in a "69" position, which gave us a full view of each other's equipment. We each had slightly less than seven inches, which would change in later years as fat pads built up over our pubic bones. He grasped my prick in his fist, steadying it while he inspected it closely.
Condom Docking Between Old Friends
A large drop of pre-cum leaked from the hole, and I let it flow down between head and foreskin instead of spreading it over the glans with my fingertip. Jim was pumping my hood up and down, apparently fascinated by the ease with which it moved over the lubricated surface. He seemed to enjoy tugging it back all the way, making it snap into the deep groove behind my flaring ridge, then pulling it forward all the way to form a nipple in front of the head again. We continued stroking each other, slowing because we didn't want to blow our loads prematurely, but after an hour Jim said; "I've just gotta cum now. I can't stand it any more."
Another Foreskin Fantasy
My balls hung down lower than usual, but still fairly tight against my body. Ernest had real "low-hangers," at least two inches below the end of his prick. Our cocks were of different shapes. I saw Ernest's eyes fix on my swinging shaft, and the prominent outline of my big helmet that showed through the thick covering. Ernest's prick was as I remembered it from the locker room, a tapered worm, uninterrupted by any glans outline, ending in a tight pucker. It taped somewhat from a thick base, a smooth white worm that I wanted to caress to watch the reaction. Ernest reached out to roll the nipple of my foreskin between two fingers. I took the puckered end of his worm between two fingers and stretched it out, pulling until I could barely see his ridge through the thinning sleeve.
Another Circle Jerk
Al was always fascinated by foreskin action, watching us avidly as we slid our hoods over our pricks. Mike always came first, because his prick-head was very sensitive. Limp, he'd be able to pull his hood back over the small soft head for washing, but when hard the swollen glans was too big to slide through the tight ring of foreskin. Mike really enjoyed his sessions, using long forward strokes of his ample foreskin, and because he had very low-hanging balls, they'd bob violently when he got near the end and was stroking hard. One of us would always cup his balls to avoid their moving too much and causing him discomfort.
Clark
"Go ahead and start stripping down. I've got to get a few towels and some lube, and I'll be there in a minute." We went into the room he showed us, and we saw a king-size bed in the center. We began shedding our clothes, and were naked in just a minute, the time it took Clark to come in. Bob's about 5'7", well built because he works out regularly, while I'm about 6'2" and have a definite roll of middle-aged flab. Bob's 53, and I'm 62.
Finger Job
With each maddening caress, another hot urge to pee swept over me, but no urine came, only drops of pre-come. I was gratified and enchanted by the delicious sensations, which I'd never before experienced. Danny had said that this type of stroking did exactly the same to him. He'd explained to me that our cock-heads were always protected under our hoods, and were exposed only while peeing and for washing. Even when masturbating, we usually stroked our smooth foreskins over the sensitive tips. This is why the ridged skin of our fingertips was so stimulating, requiring only light caresses to bring on a powerful climax. However, we had to keep the touches light, almost teasing, for maximum sensations.
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