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Comparing Restored Foreskins

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Comparing Restored Foreskins
Because I'd always resented having been circumcised at birth, I sought a way to regain my foreskin. This was before stretching, J-Tape, and other non-surgical means, so in 1982 I had a foreskin restoration by plastic surgery. This recovered my glans and I began to regain some precious sensitivity. I realized this in a non-sexual context one night when I turned over in bed. My penis pressed against the bed sheet and the foreskin pulled back to expose part of the glans. I experienced a strange and novel feeling of tenderness in my glans, which I'd never felt during the years it had been dry and rubbing against underwear and bed sheets.
About five years later, I got in touch with another guy a few years younger than I who had had a dorsal slit instead of a complete circumcision as I had. He had restored his foreskin by stretching the hood back into shape and having a urologist stitch the edges of the slit together. Thus, he had a completely natural, fully-functioning foreskin, which protected his glans, and he, too regained sensitivity.
We met once to compare notes, show and tell, when he was on a business trip to my city. In his hotel room, we showed each other what we had, and studied the contrasts between his penis and mine. More precisely, the contrasts between foreskins, because our pricks were remarkably similar. We each had about six inches in length, somewhat thicker than average, and we each had a large, purple, plum-shaped glans with a thick flaring rim that stood out above the shaft. Nature had not short-changed us.
He skinned his hood back in the bathroom to urinate, and showed me a glans coated with smegma, which he said he'd purposely accumulated for a week to show me. I suggested he rinse it off. I also skinned back to pee, but for one of the few times in my life was pee-shy, and could not urinate with him watching. I still don't know why. Actually, this was the first time either of us had met another foreskin restoree face to face.
As we spoke about our pricks and what we had done with them, the sensations we had experienced, etc., I became aware that I was somewhat aroused. So was Mike, because he suddenly stood up, unzipped and pulled out his prick, which had a large drop of clear lubricant filling the opening of his foreskin. We quickly agreed we needed relief, and got undressed.
We decided that we'd jack each other off, him first, so that we could enjoy the moments to the fullest. While not having simultaneous orgasms meant we missed sharing the magic moment, we stood to gain a lot by doing each other in sequence. As I stroked him, he could let himself go and enjoy every sensation without the distraction of having to take care of me. I, in turn, enjoyed his sensations vicariously, because I felt every pulse in his prick as I caressed it, and I knew what he was feeling when he finally exploded. I also knew my turn would be next.
As I stroked his prick, I noticed that mine remained only half-hard, and in one way this was satisfactory, because it meant that I would not shoot off prematurely. Mike lay on his back, a small towel on his stomach, his legs spread slightly, and I half-sat beside him stroking his foreskin back and forth, sometimes varying the pace, and sometimes twisting it slightly. I noticed that his prick secreted copious lubrication, which ran down his glans, overflowed his foreskin, and wet my fingers, making them slippery. I repeated wiped my hand on his towel.
After perhaps half an hour, he approached orgasm, and we both prepared for the spectacle. I felt his glans swell through the enveloping hood, and on the back stroke I saw that the color had deepened. His eyes screwed shut, I saw his body tense, and he grit his teeth just before his prick pulsed in my hand.
I stroked back hard, uncovering his glossy glans as it shot again, a thick white jet erupting from the long slit. Now I pulled the thick hood up over the head, compressing the rim and making him shoot again. Mike was growling and woofing, lost in sensation, and writhing in joyful agony as I pumped his prick to bring more jets. After at least a dozen jets, the flow had slowed to a dribble, and he began coming back to the real world.
He got up to wash his prick, and I lay back, placing a towel on my abdomen. He sat beside me, eager to return the favor and watch the orgasm his hand was about to force from me. I was already aroused, and it took only a few minutes to bring me to the edge. My prick did not secrete lube as heavily as his had, and I had just enough to lubricate my foreskin and prevent chafing. Mike's hot hand stroked my prick lovingly, and I lay back to enjoy the delicious feeling.
I thought that it was very nice to receive the same erotic stroking that had brought Mike to a groaning, gasping eruption only minutes before. He knew just how to handle my prick--how long a stroke to use, how tightly to hold it, and the rhythm that gave me the best sensations. Our pricks were alike enough for us to know intuitively how best to please the other.
I told him I was close, and he replied that he'd noticed it already because my glans had gone into its final swelling, and turned darker purple. As usual, my world closed in on me, and I was aware mainly of the sensations in my cock. I felt Mike speed up his stroking, to bring my rush faster.
The tickle in my glans turned to a hot tingle, and then the world exploded. I felt the involuntary muscles in my cock-root convulse and a jet of hot lava burned its way up my urethra. Lost in the free-fall of orgasm, I was aware only of the sensations in my prick as I groaned in agonized ecstasy.
I felt the hot jet take a slight upward turn at the end, where my urethra turns up through the glans, then it slammed through the lips of my cock-hole. Although I wasn't watching this because my eyes were shut tightly, I know from other orgasms that my tear-drop shaped opening distended to a circle as the white fluid forced its way through. Mike's hand pumped me relentlessly, pulling another contraction from my cock-root. Another burning gush shot into my urethra, scalding its walls as it rushed to the tip, to shoot high in the air before falling back on my prick and Mike's encircling fingers. I was lost and dissolving in mindless sensation.
"Man, you're really cummin," I dimly heard him say as another jet erupted forcefully from my meatus. Then I felt him do something to me that I had not to him--he skinned me back sharply, denuding my glans back to the groove behind the rim, and wrapped his thumb and forefinger around the base of my glans. He twisted sharply, sending lightning bolts of sensation down my prick,and I gasped in surprise and agonized joy.
My prick shot a few more jets before reverting to slow dribbles, but I was too intensely involved with my orgasm to count them. I slowly came off the high, and watched him gently wipe off my prick, removing the excess juice from the head, then slipping my foreskin forward to cover it once more. I got up and headed for the bathroom to rinse my prick.
That was one of the most intense mutual experiences I've had in my life. I haven't had more than perhaps half a dozen mutual masturbations with another guy, but this one stood out without doubt.



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