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Greg

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 14 Apr 2005 0 comments
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by Jackinnm The drive to Springfield, IL was pleasant, and I took a motel room planning to drop in on Greg the next morning. We'd met over the phone years ago when my company had had dealings with his, and we'd found each other pleasant, so that when I proposed stopping in to see him on my trip he eagerly acceded. He'd added that he lived alone. At about 10 A.M., I parked at his condo and rang his bell. Greg was my age, 65, and recently retired. He was about my height, six feet, with thinning white hair like me, but his face was round, not long like mine. His brown eyes, like mine, peered at me from behind trifocals. He greeted me with a smile and led me into his living room, where I noticed a two foot high plastic replica of Michaelangelo's "David" on the credenza. Wondering why he had that particular statue on display, I decided to test my hypothesis. I ran my finger down the small penis and commented: "This is a work of art, smoothly tapering and without any irregularities or scars." "I like it too," Greg replied, "especially the way the skin forms a thick pucker at the end." I felt we were on the same wavelength, so I followed up with a question: "Are you like that?" "Almost," he replied. "How about you?" We were definitely on the same wavelength, and I replied: "Almost. A little bigger, maybe." "I'd like to see it," he said. "I think it's time for a little show-and-tell." When I began stripping my clothes off, he did the same. I noticed that he wore boxer shorts, as I did. "Boxers are nice," I continued. "They're not as confining as jockeys." "I'm glad you like them too," he said as he stepped out of his. A moment later, I was as naked as he. "I see what you meant by `almost.' Yours has a nice bulge at the end," I said. "In fact, I'd call that a real man-size bulge." "Yours has a nice bulge at the end too," Greg said. "Your dick looks a lot like mine, about four inches, counting the skin at the end, but how big does it get?" "It's about six along the top, not counting the foreskin. I always skin back to measure. How about yours?" "Close to six, but my skin goes back a little when I get hard. I guess yours covers the head, doesn't it?" "Yeah, it does, with a little pucker at the end." "I thought so. Your skin has a long nipple at the end right now, but I guess the head fills it up when it swells, like right now it's starting to swell." The anatomical talk was getting us both aroused. "Yours is starting to fill out too," I observed. "We're going to get a chance to compare both soft and hard." "We'll have to do something about these hard dicks," Greg suggested. "I want to tell you up front, though, that I'm into strictly safe sex." "I think we're reading off the same page, Greg. I feel exactly the same way you do." As I finished, Greg reached out to grasp the end of my foreskin between thumb and forefinger, pulling gently to lead me into the bedroom, where we sat on his queen-size bed. I wrapped my fingertips around the bulge at the end of his prick and began rotating the foreskin around the head. It took only seconds for his prick to respond, becoming fully hard. "You're right, you still have a little skin at the end, now that you're getting hard," he said. "That must be really nice for stroking. Seems pretty tight, though." Greg's insistent fingers began working the foreskin up and down the big head in short strokes, adding to my excitement. His foreskin had pulled back slightly as the head had filled out, leaving a dime-sized opening through which I could see the lips of his long slit. "Like that rotating movement?" I asked. Maybe it was a useless question because I saw that his prick was totally engorged from my stimulation. "Love it," he replied. "When you twist my skin like that, it rubs over the head and stretches the nerve endings at the same time. That feels really hot." "If I did it with my palms, you'd really be hot. I'd have your load pretty damn quick." I gave him a brief demonstration, grasping his prick at the end between my open palms and moving my hands in opposite directions a few times. "Oh, I know. I've had that done to me before. That's so hot I can't hold off, and you'd have my load in less than a minute." "That's one nice thing you can do with a foreskin," I observed. "I wouldn't be able to do that if you were cut." "That's why I'm glad I wasn't cut," he said. "That's unusual, here in the Mid-West. Almost every guy's cut here. How did you escape it?" "Yeah, Mid-Westerners are big on conformism," he replied. "They want their boys to look like all the others in the locker room. I think I was lucky. I was born during the Great Depression. My parents were dirt-poor. I guess they just didn't have the money to have me cut. How about you?" "My parents were from Europe, and my father wasn't cut. That's probably why. I was lucky, because about half the kids where I grew up were cut, and I was one of the lucky half that wasn't." As I was speaking, Greg's fingers continued to slide my foreskin up and down, jiggling it and keeping me hard. "I like the way an uncut dick smells," he said. "Do you?" "I love that rich masculine odor," I replied. "We're both producing it right now, I think." "Your skin's pretty long, Jack, and as I said before, it's pretty tight. Does it go all the way back?" "It sure does. I always skin back when I'm in the shower and let it rinse, and of course I skin back to pee. Go ahead. Try it, nice and slow." I felt his fingers tighten on my prick as he began sliding my hood back to bare the head slowly. "I skin back to pee too. That avoids splattering. Now I'm going to skin you back nice and slow. I know how good it feels when the tight skin stretches over the big head. Let's watch it stretch." His fingers jiggled my foreskin back, in little sensual movements that tensed it, and then relaxed it as he pushed it forward again. Each time he pulled it back farther, until the edge of my foreskin was poised on the rim of my big bulging tip. "Feels very nice," I said. "My tight skin feels really good when it slides over the head." "I know it does. It looks nice too. You've got a big helmet type head, like me. The difference is that your pee slit opens up. Now it looks like a teardrop shape. Mine stays shut." His fingers continued to pull back on my foreskin until the final increment that made it snap down into the groove behind my rim. Meanwhile, I worked his foreskin up and down, slowly and sensually, gradually stretching it as I slid it back over the increasing diameter of the helmet. "Your helmet's purple, like mine," I observed. "I like that color. Now I'm going to skin it back all the way." I gave his hood a final tug to bring it back behind his rim, where it remained. "See? Both our skins stay back like collars, Jack, because we both have big rims. I like that. A big rim's sexy, especially when it flares the way ours do." "What do you want to do?" I asked. "You said `safe sex' but what do you like?" I kept my hold on his stiff prick, my fingertips encircling the tight collar behind his rim. "Well, I love a good hand job. Nothing feels as good to me as a hot guy's fingers around my dick. That always gives me a really hot come. How about you? You like hand jobs?" I felt his fingers squeezing and jiggling my thick foreskin collar suggestively as he spoke. "I love a hand job, Greg. That always brings me off. One thing, though; I like it when one comes first, and then the other. That way we can each watch each other get off." "I know what you mean," he said as his fingers tightened slightly and slid my foreskin forward. "I like to feel a hot guy's dick throb in my hand, and watch him spurt." I began sliding his foreskin up the head as far as it would go, and then bringing it back down to lodge behind the rim. "You like long strokes?" I asked. "Just tell me what turns you on." I kept pulling his foreskin up and down the head, now made more slippery by the clear seepage from his slit. "I love those long strokes, just the way you're doing it. I guess you do too, with that long skin of yours. Mine doesn't quite cover the head when I'm really hard." He was right. Each time I stroked him forward, the hood left a dime-sized opening that kept his long slit bare. Greg was able to pull mine up far enough to cover the big front dome completely. "I do, Greg. You're doing it just right for me." I sighed with desire as his skillful fingers poured sensations into my prick. "I see you don't lube as much as I do. Here, let me give you some lube." He reached over to the bedside table to pick up a small plastic bottle of Astroglide, and then skinned me back far enough to expose the rounded end of my helmet. As he poured several drops on my tip and worked them in with my foreskin, he said: "I like this stuff. It's not oily, and rinses off with water." "I know. I've got a bottle of it in my bag. I also like it because it makes the head feel warm." "It does that to me too. That's why I use it, mainly, because I've got a lot of natural lube." He poured several drops onto his big tip as I held the foreskin back. Now I brought the hood up his helmet to spread the viscous liquid evenly over the bulging tip. I reversed course, sliding the foreskin back until it cleared his rim, and then brought it up again to cover most of the purple helmet. "Does that feel good, when the foreskin bumps over the rim?" I asked. "Oh, yeah, it really does. What about you? Do you like it when I peel the skin all the way back and make it bump over your rim when I go forward?" "You bet it does, Greg. That's what's really nice about having a lot of skin. Don't grip it too tight and squeeze out the blood, though. My rim's more sensitive when it's filled with blood." "Mine works the same way. Just slide it without squeezing too much. My rim's more sensitive when it really flares out." We continued stroking each other's pricks slowly and lovingly, each caress adding to our excitement. "I noticed your balls are getting tighter. At first, they were loose, but now the sac's shrinking." "Well, Jack, I guess I've got low hangers. Yours have been tight from the start, like your skin." "Yeah, I've always had tight balls. It still feels good, though. Just keep doing what you're doing." His fingers continued to slide my foreskin up and down the head in long slow strokes, first baring the tip and then bringing the fleshy sleeve up to engulf it completely. While sliding his foreskin, I began tickling the hairs on his sac to enhance his excitement. He sighed deeply at the combined sensations. "Your tip start to tingle when you get close?" he asked. "Yes it does. That's when I know I'll be blasting off soon. How's yours doing?" "I'm getting a tickling feeling right in the rim. That fells really good. You're stroking mine just right." "It looks like you're getting close. The head's turning darker purple now." "Yeah, and it's getting a tickling feeling all through the head. Keep it up, and you'll have me shooting." I kept caressing his hard prick, knowing that I was fueling his fire and bringing him closer to the moment of truth. Now I cupped his balls, pressing my fingertips into the tender flesh behind them. We shifted positions so that we now faced each other, our spread legs intertwined, our pricks aimed at each other's bodies. "I'm going to get some Kleenex. Looks like you're going to need it any second." Greg's legs had begun to tremble slightly, and his breathing was faster now. 'Yeah, Jack, I'm close. You're doing a terrific job." I released his balls and grabbed a wad of Kleenex from the box next to the bed. "Want me to finish you off the way I do myself?" I asked. "I skin back when I'm close, and that lets the head swell all the way without my foreskin and fingers squeezing it. Then I bump my foreskin against the rim." "Do that! That sounds interesting. I think it'll feel really good with your fingers doing it to me." Greg's eyes now closed, and I stripped his foreskin back fully, forming a fleshy collar behind his rim. I began to bump it lightly against the swollen ridge, which was turning even darker purple. "Stop doing me, Greg. Just concentrate on your own pleasure." Greg released my prick and put both hands on my shoulders, bracing himself for the coming storm. "Feels so good�." He muttered. I felt the tension in his body, as he was gripping my shoulders tightly and his legs were trembling hard now. His jaw clenched and he began to maon. "Your tip's really dark purple," I observed as I continued to bump his rim with the fleshy ring, and on the back stroke I pulled his skin hard to stretch the many nerve endings within. Clear viscous fluid steadily seeped from his long slit, evidence of his arousal. "Ahhhhh," he moaned as the sensations bit into his prick head. I stared fixedly at the head of his cock, admiring its beauty as it was fully engorged, the surface wet and glossy. I pulled back harder on his retracted foreskin, adding to his sensations as the skin slid back smoothly along the shaft to leave the head and neck totally bare. "Just relax and let it happen," I urged as I brought the skin forward against the hard swollen rim. I felt a hard throb beneath my fingers and heard his agonized yelp a split second before a thick gush erupted from his slit. The rope of white liquid shot into the wad of tissues I held in front of the throbbing head, and I yanked back hard on his skin to give him another jolt of sensations. His prick spit again as I pulled the skin forward to engulf most of the head, riding smoothly over the many tender nerve endings. I felt the hardness of the head through the skin as it pulsed against my fingers and spurted again. I smelled the chlorine odor as his semen hit the air. Greg yelped again in pure joy as another spasm wracked his body, and I felt his fingers tighten on my shoulders as another heavy gush erupted from his straining prick. His jets were soaking the tissues, and I pressed the sodden paper up against the front of the dark purple head as he shot again. His legs jerked hard against mine as his entire body responded to the heavy stimulation and the thrills of orgasm shooting through his nervous system. Now I felt his pulses weaken as he'd shot most of his load. I stopped stroking his foreskin in case the head had become too sensitive, and kept it stretched tautly back as his orgasm dribbled away and the last drops seeped from his slit. When he became still, I shifted my grip and began milking his prick, forcing the residue forward and catching it in the wet tissues. Greg slumped against me, totally spent, stunned by the violence of his climax and the nervous letdown that followed. I held him to me, feeling his heartbeat slowing as he relaxed and descended into a semi-stupor. Finally he opened his eyes. "That was great," he began. "That was a hell of a ride." He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I always enjoyed the tender moments after orgasm, and it was obvious he did as well. "It was great watching you come, and feeling you come. You said you enjoyed feeling a guy's prick between your fingers and watching him shoot. I enjoyed feeling and watching you." Greg's prick had softened, and the foreskin now enveloped the big head because I'd pulled it forward after I'd finished removing the excess cream from his tip. "Your dick's still hard," he commented. "You didn't get soft at all while I was having my orgasm." My shaft was erect, the thick foreskin extending over the head to form a pucker at the end, concealing the swollen purple helmet. "Yours was so hard while you were shooting," I said. "It throbbed so hard inside the foreskin." Greg's fingers found my prick and began peeling back the thick fleshy covering to expose the round front dome. "Your slit's still puckered, like a teardrop shape," he said. His fingertip ran lightly over the roundness of the dome of my helmet, sending a thrill down my shaft. "The lips of your slit really pouted when you were coming," I added. "Each time you shot, the stream spread the lips of your slit." "I can't wait to see your beautiful dick come. I'm going to give you a really hot come." He began sliding my foreskin up and down the head again, covering the front dome and then bringing it back to almost uncover the ridge. The sliding friction excited me, and my breathing became heavier. "That feels so good�.." I whispered. I watched, fascinated, as he exposed my big purple head and covered it again, sweeping the foreskin up in a swift fluid motion. ""Get back against the headboard now and let me work on your dick." I slid back until I was sitting against the headboard, with a pillow behind me that greg had thoughtfully placed. "Now you just relax," he continued, "and I'll bring you to climax. Want me to do it the way you did to me?" "I'd like that a lot," I said. "It really worked for you, and it always works for me." "Okay, but first I'll palm your dick a little." He placed his palms on the top and bottom sides of my prick at the end and began moving them in opposite directions, twisting my foreskin around the head. A wave of thrills swept through my prick as the nerve endings stretched, enhancing my excitement. "Ooooohhhhhhhhhhhh, that feels good," I said as I felt my body tense with the hot stabs of sensation that pierced my prick. "I don't want you to come this way," he said as he released my prick and grasped it with the fingers of his right hand, stripping back the thick hood to bare the big purple helmet. "I've got your tip skinned back now, and I'm going to work on its rim." I felt his fingers slide my foreskin forward until it bumped the rim, and then pull it back until it was taut along my shaft. The delicious stretchy feeling filled my nerve endings, driving my passion to a greater height, and I felt the tension fill my body. "I'm not going to tell you to relax. I know you can't. Just let things happen now, and feel the thrills." His fingers continued working their magic on my prick, bringing the foreskin back until it strained, and then pushing it forward to bump against the many nerve endings in my rim. "Your rim's got a lot of those little bumps," he continued. "I know they're very sensitive because each time I hit them your dick throbs." He continued the thrilling action on my prick, and I felt myself drawing closer to the magic moment. "Your tip's gotten very dark," he said as he kept drawing my foreskin back hard and bumping it against my rim on the forward stroke. "It's really shiny now. You're going to shoot any second." My eyes closed involuntarily despite the exciting view of his fingers stroking my prick, and I felt a tickle begin in my rim. "It's tickling�." I trailed off as I felt my body tense under the insistent stimulation. "It's going to tingle soon," he replied, and I felt the hot tingle begin in my rim and fill my helmet. Now my glans ached for release, tingling and beginning to throb. He yanked the skin back hard once more and this triggered my orgasm. A hot thrill ran from my tip down the shaft, filling my cock-root with its urgency, and I responded with a heavy spasm that propelled my first gush into my tube. The hot lava shot up my prick, burning the walls of my tube as it raced to the tip, and I cried out in helpless agony as it burst from my throbbing head. "Go for it!" I heard in the distance as the mind-numbing shocks of orgasm filled my body. I was totally focused on the thrilling sensations that had overwhelmed me, unaware of the outside world, as another hot spasm filled my prick and another gush burned its way to the end. I felt Greg's hot fingers whipping my foreskin up and down my throbbing tip, the friction sending hot thrills down my shaft and bringing up more liquid gushes. I heard myself crying out, helplessly, joyfully, as my prick throbbed uncontrollably and sent more cargoes of cream hurtling from my tip. I felt an unfamiliar scraping sensation against the front dome of my helmet, and my numbed mind realized that Greg must have pressed a wad of Kleenex against it to catch my discharges. My prick pulsed again, and I felt myself writhing helplessly as another wave of sensations hammered my nervous system. The peak of my orgasm passed, and as my cock-root expelled its last waves of cream, my awareness of things outside me began to return. I heard Greg's voice: "Man, you're sure shooting a lot of juice. You shot more than me, already." I was still trembling from the shock waves of orgasm as he said, this, and still too numb to reply. "Now I'm going to milk you, buddy. I don't think you're going to shoot again." I felt his finger press into my tube behind my balls, pushing forward to drive the contents up towards my prick. Then I felt his fingertip digging into the underside of my shaft, propelling the last drops of fluid towards the end. The drops crawling up my tube tickled slightly, and at the same time I felt light pressure against the front of my dome as Greg dabbed at it with tissues, absorbing the seeping drops. I slumped back against the pillow, eyes still closed, and I felt myself sinking into the daze that follows the heavy pounding of orgasm. My heartbeat slowed and my breathing returned to normal. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw Grteg smiling at me as he drew my foreskin fully forward to encase my helmet. "Man, that was a sight!" he said. "Your big tip was so purple and swollen, and your whole dick throbbed in my hand when you were shooting. Did you hear yourself yelling? You were really into it." He gave my softening prick a firm squeeze with his last words. "Wow! What hit me?" was all I could say at the moment. "That really was a "Big O," he affirmed. "You blasted off and shot a lot of cream. I felt your dick throbbing with every blast." "Thanks to you," I said gratefully. "I couldn't have done it without you." This was true. Feeling Greg's warm fingers squeezing and stroking my prick had enhanced my pleasure. "Well, you really drained your balls. I wondered if you'd every stop coming. All that white stuff shooting out of your purple tip�.." I felt myself becoming more and more relaxed as he spoke. "I hope you feel as good as I do," I said. "Oh, sure, I do," he affirmed. "I'm glad you came here today. This really brightened up my day for me and I think it did the same for you." "Bet your life, Greg," I said as we slipped off into sleep.