Another Foreskin Fantasy

It was time for another fantasy, so I got my paper towels and lube and lay back in my recliner. I enjoyed fantasizing about guys I met on the Club Stroke Chat, because some are very congenial people and I'd found them very attractive. This time my fantasy was to be about "Ernest," with whom I'd cyber-jacked after finding out we both had foreskins.

Then came the surprise. He was the same "Ernest" I'd known in freshman high school almost 50 years ago, and now he lived only a couple of miles from me. He'd invited me over, and after I'd arrived we'd disrobed and jumped into his hot tub. For the next half-hour, we talked over old times, students and teachers we'd known, until we felt over-heated, and had to come out of the tub. As we dried ourselves, I noted that the hot water had made our pricks and balls relax as much as they ever would.

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.

We sat on his bed, fingers working each other's cocks, enjoying the mutual exploration. I grasped his hard shaft with my left hand and pushed back his foreskin with my right, watching the wrinkles smooth out and the narrow red head slowly appear. The slit in front was half an inch long, its lips already parted by a large drop of clear fluid. His cock-head tapered back to a thin ridge that was almost flat on the shaft, with almost no groove behind it to hold the foreskin. I inhaled the odor of moist glans and foreskin that wafted up from his prick, holding the hood tightly back to keep it from slipping forward to cover the jewel.. Fully retracted, his hood formed a thick collar that loomed over the base of the glans, ready to engulf it.

I lifted his cock to inspect the underside and saw a thick gee-string connecting his foreskin to the narrow groove under the head. It was thick and tight, pulling his foreskin forward whenever I let go. Ernest skinned my hardening prick back, pushing my thick hood over the flaring ridge until it snapped into the deep groove behind.

"That's nice. Your skin locks behind the ridge. Mine doesn't, because I have a small ridge, and the skin goes forward unless I hold it back." I could see what he meant, because even now, with his prick inflated to full six and a half-inch hardness, the foreskin slid forward to cover the slender tapered red head. I pulled it back again to let me pinch the gee-string, and this made him gasp. Another drop of clear fluid parted the lips of his slit, and I spread the lube in small circles around the slit.

My prick was at full six-inch erection, the big purple helmet shiny in the soft room light. Ernest rolled my hood forward over the flaring ridge, pulling until it covered the bulging helmet and formed a pucker in front. I compared my straight thick shaft with his, which had a slight upward curve that gave it an elegant look. We moved our hips closer, facing each other, until we could touch the ends of our stiff pricks together. His hot slippery glans pressed against mine, and I saw him shudder.

"I need to cum. I really need to cum right now," he said, his hot pleading eyes boring into mine. I could see why, as the pre-cum overflowed from his prick, spilling out the front of his foreskin to run down his shaft. I gently pushed him on to his back, reassuring him: "Don't worry, Ernest, I'm going to make you cum. I'll give you a really hot cum in a minute." I began to roll the end of his foreskin-covered prick between my palms, using the stroke I'd learned years ago, to twist his hood over the head. I knew this would also stretch his tight gee-string, making the nerve endings sing until he exploded in orgasm. I watched his balls tighten against his body as I rolled his prick, feeling the hardness through the skin as I twisted it in opposite directions.

He began gasping, "HAH-HAH-HAH" with each twist, and I knew the sensations were reaching him. His prick was overflowing with lube, and this ran over my hands, making my grip slippery. I stopped for a moment to reach for some tissues to sop up the clear fluid. Ernest looked at me. He opened his mouth to speak just when I yanked his hood back hard, stretching the zillions of receptors in his sensitive tissues, but not a word came. The sudden jolt of sensations from his shaft skin, gee-string, and his cock-head produced a sensory overload that paralyzed his thought process. I saw the head of his prick dipping toward his balls, tugged down by the tightly stretched gee-string.

"Don't worry. I'll start again in just a sec. Just focus on that beautiful prick of yours. I just hope I don't blast off while I'm doing you." Watching and feeling his rise toward orgasm had made me so hot that my prick head was drooling lube onto the sheet. I wiped his overflowing cock and resumed rolling his prick-end, moving my palms in opposite directions, then back, keeping up the maddening twisting motion that was driving him wild.

Now his "HAH-HAH-HAH" was louder, and his head began to rock from side to side. I watched his eyes close as I stepped up the pace, twisting harder and faster, driving him to the explosion. His cock was rock-hard between my palms, and his face turned red as he neared the abyss. I felt the powerful pulse in his prick as Ernest yelled: "HHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" and exploded in orgasm. A hot white jet shot upward from his straining prick to fall back onto his stomach. His hips thrust upward as his rigid cock throbbed again, sending another white torrent upward.

The jets exploded through his foreskin as I felt his hot prick pulse underneath, and Ernest cried out in pure joy at the intense sensations that filled him. Now his hips thrust upward again, and his foreskin rolled back between my palms, forcing his naked, blood-red tip through my fingers. The sudden shock of my rough skin against his tender glans made him scream in agonized ecstasy as his prick pulsed again. I saw the jet shoot from his slit, parting the lips as it gushed out to arc in the air. I twisted a fist around his now bared tip, knowing that the sensations would be almost unbearable, and watch his body shudder wildly.

He shot two more jets, then relaxed. I stopped stroking him, lightly clasping his cock to feel the fading pulses of a dying orgasm. Miraculously, I hadn't shot off during this scene, but was ready for orgasm, because my hot hard helmet was dark purple and drooling lube through its teardrop shaped orifice.

Ernest opened his eyes, stared at me for a second, and then eased himself up to kiss me on the forehead. He then kissed me on each cheek, and said: "Your turn. I want to make you cum the way you did me." I let him push me down on the bed, and watched him steady my shaft with his left hand as his right picked up some of the cream from his abdomen. His cream mixed with my pre-cum as he began stroking my swollen helmet with his fingertips.

"I hope your tip's as tender as mine," he said.

"Mine's really sensitive, and I can hardly stand it when someone does this to me." I nodded, and he continued stroking me, fingertips lightly dancing over the contours of my shiny purple helmet. One finger traced small circles around my hole.

"You've got a beautiful slit," he said.

"Looks like a teardrop now that the head's all swollen." His fingers swept down my head to the ridge, worked around it, then into the deep groove behind. His left fist pulled back hard on my shaft to clear the roll of foreskin from my groove, leaving the way clear for him to touch me in places that had rarely been touched before. His hot fingertips caressed my groove, and the sensitive back face of my ridge, hitting the tiny buds that housed the sensitive receptors.

I was flat on my back, utterly helpless in his hands, and I felt the express-train rush toward orgasm begin. My breathing was ragged, and I heard myself going "AH-HAH-HAH" as sensations drove deep into my swollen helmet. I tried to relax, but the drive to orgasm was relentless, and I felt my body tense, then begin to shudder as the sensations became uncontrollable. My eyes closed involuntarily, and my prick felt so swollen that it seemed about to burst. The head's hot and hard now, really swollen," he said.

"The color's darker purple, too." Ernest's fingers stroked my sensitive head, sweeping around the ridge, then caressing the broad upper surface before descending to the triangular groove under the head. He pressed a fingertip into my hot spot, then wrapped his fingers around the slippery head and twisted hard. My crotch convulsed, and a cry of agonized bliss escaped my lips and the heavy pounding of orgasm began. I felt the first burning hot jet shoot up my prick, burning the tender lining as it went.

The fluid made a sharp tickling sensation as it rounded the upward curve inside the helmet, then gushed from my teardrop. My eyes were closed, so I didn't see it shoot. There was no time to think about it, anyway, because the next convulsion overwhelmed me, and another hot gush erupted. Ernest's rough fingers ruthlessly twisted around the sensitive head of my cock, torturing the nerve endings, as I cried out helplessly.

My prick pulsed again and again, mindlessly dedicated to spewing out load after load, while I was a mere passenger on the wild ride. I cried out "Ernie, Ernie," as the last convulsions contracted my cock-root. I felt Ernest stop stroking me, and enjoyed the slow drool of hot semen as the residue crawled up my tube to roll out the hole and down my shaft. My body relaxed, and I felt blissful and fulfilled. Now fully awake and aware, I saw the paper towels I'd laid on my stomach wet with cum, as I'd shot another hot, fulfilling load during my fantasy.

written by jackinnm

Tags locker room  all tags

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