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Novice

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Novice by Jackinnm@yahoo.com (Jackinnm@yahoo.com)fiction I'd felt horny all morning, and as my heavy-ended cock swung from side to side in my loose clothing, I was acutely aware of it. It was half-hard, although I hadn't touched it except to pee. My neighbor Pat had dropped in for a beer that Saturday afternoon and I welcomed the company. I was feeling a bit lonely, having been divorced for three years, and I felt he also needed companionship. I was 32, and Pat two years younger, also divorced. Neither had a girlfriend at the moment, and I sensed he was as horny as I. Pat was about my height, 6'2", and had brown hair and eyes, as I did, with an amiable smile that lit up the room. We sat at the kitchen table, and as we sipped our beers I noticed that Pat's hand had dropped to his lap under the table. I could easily guess that he was caressing himself through the fabric of his pants, and I understood that, too, as I felt horny and needed release. Although I wasn't touching my prick, I felt it stir inside my clothes, a signal that I was ready for an orgasm. "Lousy living alone," he said. "I'm glad to be free of that mess with my wife, but at night I sleep alone, and of course have no sex." Pat was feeling sorry for himself, and I recognized that symptom as well, the agony of separation and isolation. "Shit, same here, Pat. I sleep alone too, but I know what to do when I get horny. Bet you do too." Pat smiled that beaming smile of his, partly familiarity and partly embarrassment, as I supposed he wasn't totally comfortable talking about self-relief on such a personal level. "Well, I do have my right hand…." His voice trailed off, not completing the thought. I decided to press the point. "But how often do you use it?" I asked. Pat's smile faded somewhat, and I could see he was deciding whether or not to provide a frank answer. He straightened up slightly and said: "Several times a week. Sometimes, like right now, I feel that if I don't do it, I'll explode." His candid admission surprised me slightly, and I decided to reply in kind, seriously and truthfully. "Me too. I have to have relief a few times a week. In fact, I feel like it right now, just like you." Pat's expression changed at his realization of the implications of his admission and of my reply. "Yeah, I feel like doing it right now," he said. "I'd be embarrassed to do it in front of you, though," he said, breaking into a wide grin. "Well, to tell you the truth, it wouldn't bother me at all." I waited for his reaction. "Wouldn't bother you seeing me do it, or you doing it in front of me?" "Neither. I've jacked off with guys as a kid, and even more recently, since my divorce. It can be really pleasant." I knew my words would surprise him, and I wanted to hear what he had to say. "I did that too, as a kid, but not as an adult. I don't think there's anything really wrong with it, I just haven't done it, that's all." His answer was better than I'd dared to hope, and I decided to propose we follow through. "I'd like to see how you do it. I was always curious about how other guys did it to themselves, and I don't mind showing off to you." Now my hand dropped to my lap, and I began to caress the swelling under the cloth. I noticed that his arm was moving slightly, and knew he was strongly tempted as his physical needs began to dominate his consciousness. "Different strokes for different folks," he said, apparently comfortable with the cliché. "I mean, I know different guys do it differently." He shifted in his chair again. "You like to be naked when you stroke it?" I asked, wanting to elicit a direct answer. "I do. How about you?" Now his curiosity was aroused, and I guided him through the last steps to commitment. "Want to try it with me? We can go in the bedroom and get naked, and all the drapes are closed, so nobody's going to see us." Pat stood, hesitatingly, and nodded. I got up and led him through the living room into my bedroom, where I got a couple of towels from the bathroom and began to strip without another word, feeling that he'd follow my example. He did, and as he dropped his clothes I noticed that he was more muscular than I, with a flat tight abdomen, and when he pushed his boxers down I saw that he was uncut, as I was. As my boxers dropped to the floor I saw that his eyes were fixed on my crotch. We each had moderate pubic hair, and our pricks arced down over our balls, still only half hard. My sac was average size but fairly tight, while he had "low hangers" that drooped lower than the end of his penis. His penis was what caught my eye, because it had a large and well-defined head that bulged through the covering skin that formed a pucker at the end. His cock was heavy-ended just like mine. "Your foreskin's longer than mine," he said. "That's what they call a nipple, isn't it?" His comments on the details of my anatomy showed me that he was perhaps as interested in cocks as I was, although his preference hadn't fully surfaced. "Yeah, a nipple," I said as I began to roll my nipple between thumb and forefinger, enjoying the feeling of the big head sliding around inside its fleshy envelope. This stimulation was awakening my cock, and it swelled further with blood. Pat squeezed the head of his cock through its fleshy covering, with the same result. Soon we were standing with cocks pointing toward each other, fully aroused, and Pat was no longer smiling at all. His face had taken on the serious expression of pure lust, and I welcomed this because I was feeling the same way. I noticed that Pat's erect prick was somewhat longer than my six inches, but about the same comfortable thickness. We had neither "beer cans" nor "needle dicks," but slightly thicker than average cocks. "Does your skin go back all the way?" His question didn't surprise me, as other guys with shorter foreskins and some with no foreskins had asked me the same thing. My hood covered the helmet completely, even with full erection, while Pat's had begun to retract off the moist, sensitive head, leaving a dime-sized opening through which his half-inch slit was visible. I sat on the bed before replying. "Want to try it and see?" I suggested, pointing at my stiff prick. "Oh, no, I've never touched another guy's cock before, only my own. Even when we jacked as kids, we only did ourselves, never each other." "Okay, I'll show you," I said as I began exerting traction on my foreskin, baring the front dome of my big purple head. The lips of my slit pout with erection, and Pat was able to see the teardrop shaped opening through which I'd soon be gushing my cream. "Can you get it back over the ridge?" he continued. "Your skin looks pretty tight." Pat had placed his thumb on top of his foreskin at the corona and his index finger underneath his head, and was slowly revealing his sensitive wet glans for me. The fleshy hood slid back to ride over his flaring rim and lodged behind it, filling the deep groove. "Sure. Look." I slowly pulled back on my foreskin, enjoying the delicious sensation as it stretched over the expanding contours of my helmet. I saw that Pat's eyes were fixed on it as the orifice stretched to ride over my ridge, then snapped down behind it, filling the groove with a thick fleshy collar larger than the corona. "Nice head on your cock," he said. "It's a lot like mine." Pat now added a couple more fingers to his grip and began sliding his foreskin forward and back over the swollen glans, covering it almost to the end before retracting it fully again. I enjoyed the sight, as I knew the feeling of warm foreskin stimulating the tender head, with all its sensitive nerve endings. "Watch this," I said as I pushed my long hood all the way forward to engulf my glans and form a thick pucker at the end before I peeled it back completely. "Yeah, you have enough skin to get a longer stroke than me." He sat next to me, and I felt his thigh touch mine, sending a slight shiver through my body. I didn't comment on this contact, and Pat didn't move away. I saw that the lips of his slit had parted and a drop of clear fluid filled the gap between them. He slid his hood forward again to pick up the drop and spread it over his red tip. "You get more lube than me," I said. "I have to use K-Y or baby oil most times I jack off, just to lubricate the skin." He pulled his hood back all the way, then pushed it forward, which milked another drop that appeared to fill his slit. I took a bottle of baby oil from the bedside table and poured several drops on my glans, working it in with long strokes of my foreskin. "I like to stroke all over the head until I'm ready to come," he said as he demonstrated for me. "That sliding feeling really gets me hot, but when I get close I just work the skin over the rim. That gives me a real tingly feeling in my rim, and that makes me blast off." "I sometimes twist the skin up over the head." I twisted my foreskin on the up stroke to show him. "Then when I get close, I like to skin back all the way to see the head get darker purple, and watch it swell once it's out of the foreskin." I kept stroking my hood in long slow strokes, restraining the impatience that made me want to pump my prick hard. "We're both doing it slow," he said. "You find it's hotter when you take your time? I always get a hotter orgasm when I have a long build-up." Pat kept sliding his skin over the head, now well lubricated by his endless supply of clear fluid. "Each time you skin back the head dips. I guess the tension on your gee-string feels good, doesn't it?" I watched as he slowly skinned it back, and the front of his glans dipped down towards his balls. His warm thigh was still against mine, and it was clear that we both enjoyed the contact. "Yeah, but yours doesn't dip much." "I've got less gee-string than you do, I guess." I'd noticed the thick fleshy strand connecting the foreskin to the groove under his head whenever he'd skinned back fully. Now I saw that his sac had drawn up tightly to his body. "You're getting close, aren't you? "Yeah, I am." His strokes had picked up, and he wasn't pushing the foreskin as far forward as he'd been doing. Pat was just pumping his hood over the rim, compressing the nerve endings as the supple skin slid back and forth. "Here, shift around, so that you shoot on this towel," I suggested. Pat slid around and now the towel was between his spread thighs, and his rhythm was faster. His eyes glazed over, alternating between watching his prick and mine. I know the sight of my stroking was enhancing his excitement. I kept the same slow pace on my foreskin, not wanting to come until I'd watched his orgasm. I laced my free hand on his thigh, and Pat didn't object or move away. "Close, close…." He muttered through clenched teeth. His glossy red head had turned darker with excitement, and I knew he'd be releasing his sperm any second. "Go for it, Pat, I want to watch you come." Now the lube was flowing from his slit, running down to wet his fingers. His face contorted, and his jaw dropped. His breathing was heavy, gasping, and I could see the tension that was filling his body. "HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" he grunted as orgasm was upon him. His prick spit a long white jet onto the towel as he stroked it furiously, caught up in the frenzy of orgasm. Unlike me, his eyes didn't close when he came, but were fixed avidly on his gushing cock. His hot grunts filled the room. His beautiful prick jetted again and again, then when the jets became weaker, I saw his hand slow its stroking until he'd pulled his foreskin all the way back as the last small spurt came from his slit. "Man, I needed that," he said. I nodded to acknowledge that he'd dropped a heavy load. "I needed to watch you. It was real inspiration. Watching made me hotter." "Now let's see you come," he urged. I began stroking faster, feeling the delicious friction in my glans and the exciting tightness as my encircling fingers and foreskin compressed my rim. I was close, and now skinned back all the way, stretching my shaft skin tightly and bumping my rim. "Watch the head get darker," I muttered as tension filled my body. A strong tickle in my rim told me I was ready, and when it changed to a hot tingle, I knew I was committed. The hot throbbing began in my cock root, and I cried out as my eyes closed. Burning jets shot their way up my tube, sending me into frenzy, and I stroked the foreskin fully over the head, reveling in the sweet sensations. My prick throbbed as my fist flew over it, and I was lost in agonizing ecstasy. "That was hot," he said when I'd finished. "I really enjoyed that show." "Thanks for putting the towel in front of me," I said. "I got so carried away that I completely forgot," I said as I milked the last drops from my prick and wiped the head and hood gently. "Now let me get us a couple of beers. We need them." I went to the kitchen and returned with two beers, passing one to Pat and thirstily drinking the other. "That's the first time I saw an adult man jack himself. You were really exciting." Pat was fondling his prick without any effort to hide it as he spoke, and I saw it begin to swell again. "You're getting horny again," I said. "I'm glad I turned you on so much. You turned me on, you know." "Man, just watching you was such a turn-on, and I can still see your hot prick in front of my eyes as you came." His fingers were slipping his foreskin back and forth over the red helmet. "Then go for it again," I urged. "I'm glad you're not shy in front of me. I want to see you come again." "OOOHHHH…" Pat moaned. "I need it so bad, I'm so hot now….." His eyes stared into mine with what I thought was a pleading look, and I followed up on it. "Maybe you need a little help," I suggested. I reached out to cup his balls, already contracting against his body, and Pat shuddered at the contact. I worked my hand to the base of his shaft, then slid it farther, displacing his hand as my fingers closed around his cock. There was no resistance as I clasped his hard prick and began to slide the skin back and forth. "AAAAAHHHHH…., that feels so good," he said without hesitation as I began to stroke him in the way I'd watched him do. "You need another guy's hand around your cock to make you come hot and hard," I said. "Just relax and let me do the work." "I get the hottest orgasms when I pump," he said as he rolled onto his side, his prick over the towel. I knew what he meant, and I clasped his prick harder, holding my hand steady to let him thrust into my fist. Pat responded and began to thrust. Pat's pulsing prick pumped through my palm and clasping, encircling fingers. The big red helmet slid through the supple skin, lunging forward to bare itself with each thrust as the taut gee-string pulled it down by the front to make it dip towards his balls. His hips bucked as he abandoned himself to the joy of ramming into my fist. I felt the heat of his cock, enhanced by the friction of flesh against flesh. His breathing was heavy now, and his tip was dark red. His pace picked up, until he was pumping mindlessly into my fist, and I felt the hard throbs as his orgasm let loose. He cried out louder than he had before, in helpless agony as his life juice shot forcefully from his slit. His frenzied thrusts filled my hand as his big tip shot through it to emerge naked to spit another load. His glans retreated inside his foreskin and my encircling fingers, then he rammed forward again. I watched, enraptured by the sight and feel of his second orgasm in a few minutes. I was happy to be able to help him enjoy another, happy to hold his throbbing cock as it spat its juices. I wasn't afraid of stroking him too much, as he was doing all the thrusting and I knew he'd stop when the head became too sensitive. After a few more dribbles of sperm, he relented, and finally stopped, his hard prick encased in my fist, the head covered by foreskin. Now it began to soften, and I wiped the ooze from the end of his foreskin with the towel. "Want to skin back to wipe the head? I know it's pretty sensitive right now, and wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable." Pat took the towel from me gratefully and I watched him pull the fleshy covering back from the shrinking red head. He dabbed at the orifice, then skinned back totally to bare the ridge and groove, which he wiped lightly with a corner of the towel. Finally, he pushed his prepuce forward to encase the head. We lay side by side, not speaking. Our thighs touched, and then I felt Pat reach for my hand. He squeezed it firmly just before we fell asleep.

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