My Friend Phil

Phil's swollen purple cock-head was inches in front of my eyes, its distended oval slit filled with clear fluid. I spread the drop of lube around the front of his bell-shaped glans with one fingers as I held the shaft with the other hand. At the same time, I felt Phil's warm fingers clasping my engorged cock, gently stripping the long thick foreskin back from my turgid glans, then covering it again. Phil was perhaps my best friend, who had introduced me to other guys both in our area and in different parts of the country.

He was the unofficial head of our network of guys who enjoy hand jobs and other forms of safe sex, and who live around the country and welcome visitors. Phil was 65, a few years older than I, but in better physical shape. Sometimes I think everybody's in better shape than I am, but the other side of that coin is that I've encountered many guys who envy my cock. I have exactly six inches hard, down a bit from when I was younger and didn't have that fat pad in front of my pubic bone and around the base of my shaft. Most guys I know have roughly the same length, between five and seven inches.

I've never seen a nine-inch cock. Maybe someone out there has one, but I've never seen it. Limp, my cock's about four inches, with a big bulge in the skin at the front. The skin rides smoothly over the bulge and tapers down to a long nipple. Many guys younger than I don't have their foreskins any more, because they were cut at birth, and many of these guys envy my cock. Phil didn't, because he's natural like me, with long thick hood covering a large, bell-shaped glans. Phil and I enjoy playing with each other's cocks, because of the similarity and because of the differences.

Phil's hard-on is about half and inch longer than mine, measured along the top from base to the tip of the glans. Both of us have straight shafts, with a big vein along the right side. When we're skinned back we can see a difference. My purple tip's like a German helmet, with big, wide, flaring ridge that sweeps forward underneath to meet at the front. Phil's tip is lighter purple and bell-shaped, with a ridge that drops down under the shaft, and looks like the rim of a bell. My pee-hole has the shape of a teardrop, while Phil's is oval.

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We began that evening by playing with each other's skins, rolling the nipples between two fingers, pulling on them to stretch the nerve endings, and feeling the heads swell under their coverings. I felt a tickle deep down in my cock-root, and the subtle feeling of drops of lubricant oozing forward through my shaft. Both our foreskins fully cover our heads even with hard-ons, and we slowly stretched them back over the bulging contours of our big tips, enjoying the delicious stretchy feeling as the skin distended.

We were in a sixty-nine position on Phil's king-size bed, as close to each other's cocks as we needed, and we'd had lots of practice at stimulating each other's equipment. With thumb and forefinger, I caressed Phil's ridge through the covering skin as I stretched the hood back in stages, uncovering a little bit at a time to let him feel each nuance of sensation. Phil had already skinned my prick back half-way, and now his index finger was spreading my lube over the front of the head with a light touch. I enjoyed the tangy man-smell of Phil's foreskin and cock-head, wet and shiny, as I stripped it back farther.

The hole at the end of his cock-head was distended, forming an oval, and I stared deeply into it, knowing that I'd never see bottom. I pressed a finger into the thick tube on the underside of his shaft, forcing his lubricant forward. A clear drop filled his oval orifice, and while I held his hood back with one hand, I spread the lubricant over the dome of his glans with one finger of the other. The slippery lubricant had a different odor than the foreskin secretion, and I inhaled deeply, enjoying this dimension of giving Phil's cock pleasure.

We always went slowly, consciously avoiding a mad rush to orgasm, because as experienced jack-off artists, we knew that getting there was half the fun. We'd agreed to avoid coming for a week beforehand, so that we'd have a lot of jizm to shoot. That always made for a hotter and more prolonged orgasm. We'd also found that if we took our time, jacking each other for an hour or more, climax would always be more intense because of the prolonged build-up.

I guess we practiced a form of what people call "edging," but truly we didn't get close to coming until just before the end. We always remained well below the summit, and although I'd read about guys who could bring themselves to the edge and remain there for a long time, I'd never met anyone who did that, and had never seen anyone do it. Phil and I concentrated on making our orgasms more intense by different strokes and techniques. We had different ways of caressing our heads and foreskins, and we even would press a finger into the big tube under the shaft during orgasm to dam up the gushes of cream, the pressure making us howl in ecstasy.

This time, Phil had something else in mind for me. He'd said he wanted to use something he'd tried on his cock last week. He'd bought an electro-sex unit, complete with plug-in cord and a variety of electrodes that fit around his cock, balls, and even into his rectum. He'd raved about it on the phone a few days before, and said he wanted me to test-drive it as well. I'd already had some experience with this type of stimulation because another friend had let me try his last year, and I'd found it produced a really heavy, throbbing orgasm. Phil's idea was different from what my friend had had me try.

Instead of using the electric pulses from the start to make me hard and increase my excitement, Phil would turn on the unit only when I was on the edge of coming, so that I could enjoy the delicate sensations of light stimulation as he slowly teased my cock closer to climax, then experience the full rush of sensation when he used the electrical pulses to boost me into orgasm. Right now, we concentrated on working ourselves up gradually, having agreed that Phil would have his orgasm before mine.

This would leave me free to work on stimulating his cock to orgasm without distraction, and after he'd finished he'd concentrate on mine. I was twisting his foreskin gently around the head, using my full fist, guiding the lubricated skin over the compound curves of his tip, then stroking it back and forth lightly for variety. We'd learned that using light strokes and varying them often provided delightful stimulation because the nerve endings didn't become tired. Rapid hard pumping, on the other hand, required even more speed and pressure near the end because the nerve endings had discharged so often that they were tired and needed even more stimulation.

Now we began long, slow strokes that completely bared our cock-heads, our tight foreskin rings gently squeezing the heads from front domes to rear ridges. I felt the coolness of air on my heated glans as I skinned Phil's cock all the way back, watching the long hood snap back into the deep groove behind his rim. I blew gently on his hot naked tip, knowing this would give his nerve endings a slight jolt that would bring him closer to climax.

Now I pulled forward, watching the skin bunch up as it compressed his ridge, then jump suddenly over the ridge and begin the long down-hill slide towards the end, where it formed a thick pucker in front of the head. I could feel a change in Phil's cock-head, a hardening and swelling. I skinned it back gently once more, and saw the now naked head swell to full size, flaring ridge standing out above the encircling ring of foreskin, and the color of the glans dark purple.

"I think you're ready," I said. Phil let go my cock and lay back on the bed to let me do him the way I wished. I spread a towel over his chest and stomach. Having gushes of semen coat your body is nice, but not when you have to wash it out of your body hair. I pulled his foreskin fully forward and held his cock between my two hands, palms and fingers flattened, and asked; "Ready?" Phil nodded, and I began moving my hands in opposite directions, twisting his loose foreskin over the hard cock-core underneath.

I knew what Phil was feeling because I'd experienced the multiple stimulation of friction on the tender glans, the inner lining, and the feeling of having the nerve endings in the foreskin stretched with each twist. When my friend Stan did this to my cock, it always brought me to a gasping, shuddering climax within seconds, and now I saw Phil begin to approach the brink. I twisted faster, and heard his breathing deepen.

His lips drew back from his teeth, and his stomach muscles began to contract as his balls drew tightly up against his body. His cock felt hot in my hand, partly from the blood flow, but also from the friction, and I went faster. I saw the dome of his dark purple head through the opening in his hood, and a gush of lubricant oozed from the skin and over my fingers. Phil groaned and his eyes closed as I felt the first hard throb in his cock, and watched a long string of white shoot from his tip to land on his chest. I moved my hands back slightly to make sure the front of his cock-head was clear of skin, and kept twisting hard as another jet erupted.

Phil was a shooter, always ejaculating his juice, while I was a dribbler, usually pouring out large jets but without enough force to carry them in a trajectory. Phil's cock throbbed between my fingers as he shot again, this time the jet landing in the area of his belly-button. I felt another heavy throb, and watched another gush fly onto his stomach. Phil was really into it now, crying out in pure joy and he floated on the sensations of orgasm, helpless in my hands, trusting me to produce more delicious sensations in his prick. His legs twitched as another jet shot onto his stomach, and he groaned in delicious agony.

His cock jerked again between my hands, and gushed a thick rope of white fluid that this time fell right back onto the purple head and ran down his shaft onto my fingers. I closed my right hand around his cock, pumping him back and forth through the final throbs, until he cock just drooled thin white fluid and he'd stopped throbbing. Phil took a couple of minutes to recover, as I knew he would from many other sessions with him. I rolled up the cream-soaked towel and carefully wiped his softening cock with paper tissues. I skinned him back to wipe around the ridge, then pulled his ample foreskin forward to cover his tender tip completely. Now Phil raised himself and got the electro-sex unit from the bedside table.

"This is the ring electrode," he said as he slipped a thick rubber ring around my half-hard cock, pushing it down to the base. He clipped a lead to a stud on the ring and connected the other end to the black box.

"This ring has electrodes to hit the two dorsal nerves in your cock." He then poured a few drops of olive oil between the ring and my shaft.

"Olive oil is conductive," he added. He then picked up a small cylinder and poured olive oil over it. I was lying on my side and he lifted one ass-check and placed the cylinder in the crack, touching my anus.

"I know you don't like anything up your ass, but it doesn't matter. The current will go through it anyway. He connected another lead to a clip on the cylinder and plugged the other end into the black box.

"Now I'm going to work on your cock just as I always do, but when you start to come I'll turn on the current," he explained, as he pushed me onto my back and spread a towel over my body. Picking up my cock, he gently skinned it back, and I propped my head up with a pillow to watch as my swollen glans came into view. Without the foreskin covering it, the head swelled to full size, and Phil gently tugged on my foreskin, stretching it back along the shaft and running a fingertip along the groove behind the high ridge. That felt very good, and when he pulled harder on the tightly-stretched back foreskin the tension on my gee-string pulled the head down towards my balls.

Hot as I was from the previous stimulation , it didn't take long until I was very hot, approaching the point of no return. Phil's gentle fingers stroked my long hood back and forth, slowly uncovering the big helmet right down to the ridge, then pulling the sleeve forward to cover the head again as drops of lubricant oozed from my orifice to lubricate it. I saw that my cock-head had gotten darker, and I felt a slight ache in the tip, signaling a profound need to come. As Phil continued to stroke, I felt a pleasant tickle begin in my rim. As the skin moved over the tender, sensitive head, the tickle changed to an itch, then to an urgent tingle, telling me that I was on the brink.

"You're almost there," Phil murmured as he skinned my rock-hard cock all the way back, making the glans dip again as he pulled hard on my gee-string. I saw his other hand move toward the black box, and then a heavy thrill ran from my cock deep into my cock-root. Less than a second later, another, stronger electric throb ran from the base of my cock to my anus, contracting all the muscles in its path, and I cried out in surprise as the intense sensations filled my body. I heard myself going "HAH-HAH-HAH" in time with the electric pulses that wracked my lower body, even before starting to come. I was helpless in the grip of the powerful stimulation that dominated my consciousness. Another throb shook me as I felt a hot, burning gush run up my shaft.

I saw my cock jump in his hand as a long jet erupted from the hole toward my face, and I closed my eyes. My legs twitched as my insides convulsed in orgasm, sending another heavy gush out my cock-tip. There was a heavy, rhythmic thud-thud-thud filling my lower body as my muscles contracted in time with the electric pulses. I felt as if my entire insides were being ejected through my cock as pulse after pulse convulsed my body, each one making my cock-root contract.

I heard myself crying out in joyful agony as the electricity pounded my cock-root, and my glans and shaft throbbed in response, shooting more jets. I lay helplessly supine as more throbs filled my cock, and the rapid electric pulses brought forth more jets. I threw my head from side to side, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations, and groaned loudly as each powerful gush erupted from my cock-tip.

Suddenly, the electric pulses stopped, and I felt the last drops dribble from my tip as my sensations faded. Phil had sensed when I'd had enough, and shot my load. I felt him remove the electrode from between my ass-cheeks, then his fingers gently slipped the ring up my softening prick, dragging the foreskin along with it to cover the head as the ring slipped off. I still felt the gentle tickle as the last drops of jizm crawled up my tube to run out under my foreskin when they leaked from my hole. I opened my eyes and watched Phil remove the soaked towel, then gently retract my hood and wipe away the thick coating of cream with a paper tissue. He was very careful, knowing that the head was super-sensitive for a few minutes after orgasm, and even soft facial tissue would feel like sandpaper to my tortured nerve endings.

Now he worked the long hood back over the shrunken head, pulling it in place to cover it completely and form a tight nipple at the end. I saw that his cock was limp and totally skin-covered, like mine, but I could distinguish the subtle difference in the shape of our heads through the covering hoods. Phil gave my nipple one last tug, and my cock twitched in response. I grasped his long foreskin nipple and tugged at it, feeling the responding twitch through the thick skin. Phil turned out the lights and we enjoyed a deep and restful sleep.

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