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Doppleganger By jackinnm@yahoo.com Some years ago the checkout lady at a supermarket looked at me with surprise in her eyes. "Why you were just here," she said. "Huh?" I reacted, totally baffled. "You just came through my line five minutes ago." "No, it wasn't me," I replied. "But you were dressed differently," she continued. "No, it wasn't me," I repeated. "Then it was someone who looks just like you. I guess it wasn't you, because he had on different clothes," she explained. That was the first clue I had that I had a double somewhere. I'd heard of "doppelgangers," look-alikes, but had never thought I might have one. Recently at a party, a man named Jake came up to me. "When Alice and I came in, we thought we knew you. You look just like our friend Carl." He went on to explain that they'd known Carl for years, and that I was his exact double. I told him that I was sure I didn't have a twin, because I'd been an only child, and that I'd seen my birth certificate, so I knew I hadn't been adopted. I knew that some twins who were orphaned became adopted by different sets of parents, neither twin aware he'd had a sibling. After several minutes of discussion, during which I found out that Carl came from the mid-west and worked in insurance, I wrote my name and number on my pad, tore off the sheet, and gave it to Jake, asking that he pass it on to Carl. I was eager to hear from Carl, who looked enough like me to be my twin. A few weeks later I answered the phone and a voice said: "This is Carl, a friend of Jake's. He told me you look like you might be my twin." "Yeah, thanks for calling, really. I'd love to meet you and see how much alike we really are." Carl invited me to his house, and a couple of days later I rang his bell. When he opened the door it was almost like looking at a mirror image of myself. Except for the clothing, he looked exactly the way I do, from thinning white hair to wire-rimmed trifocals, the square jaw, and the same physique. We had the same deep-set brown eyes and the same low-tenor voice. He ushered me in, offered me a Pepsi, and we sat down to talk. Carl, too, had been an only child. He had been born in Nebraska, while I hailed from New York. I told him I'd been born in 1938, and he said he'd been born in 1937. My parents had been French and Italian, while his had been German. When I mentioned that I'd seen my birth certificate, he said he had a copy of his as well, and believed that he had been his parent's biological child. This seemed to establish that we were not related, and certainly not twins separated at birth. Our lives had been different, as well. Although neither of us had been in the armed services, Carl had been a Boy Scout. He'd gone into insurance, while my field was computer engineering. We'd both been married and divorced, and while Carl had had two children, I'd had none. Carl was retired, but I was not. We stared at each other, fascinated, as we exchanged data. We were both 6'2", and weighed about 210 lb. We compared hands, and found that we both had large hands with long fingers. We both wore size 12 shoes. When we stood, we saw that his eyes were slightly higher than mine, because he wore cowboy boots and I had on running shoes. "Let's weigh ourselves, to see how close we are," he suggested, leading me into the bathroom where the scale was. Our weights differed as well, probably because I was wearing heavier clothing and had a cell phone and camera on me. "Maybe we'd better strip down, take off everything, to see how close a match we are," I said. He looked at me curiously for a moment, then replied: "Well, why not? No point in being shy with each other. We probably look exactly alike under our clothes." We began stripping down, and soon were standing naked, facing each other. I felt no discomfort at being naked in front of a guy I'd just met, and it appeared he felt the same as I. This time, our eyes were exactly at the same level, and when we stepped onto the scale, our weights were within two pounds. We had exactly the same physique, with the same roll of middle-aged fat around our waists. There was a trace of an appendectomy scar on my abdomen, while he had none. Dropping my eyes farther, I noted that Carl's prick looked exactly like mine, with a long foreskin forming a nipple ahead of the bulbous glans. Under our cocks, we had the same tight scrotums. "You had your appendix out," Carl remarked, "but neither of us got circumcised." "Good thing for that," I replied. "I like being natural. Lots of guys didn't have a choice." "Well, they weren't cutting everybody back when we were born," he said. "I'm glad I still have my skin. Old Doc Simpson didn't believe in circumcision." "Mine's long and tight, like yours, but slides easily," I said. "I skin back when I have to pee." "Speaking of pee," I have to go right now, Carl said. "Mind if I do it in front of you? No reason to be modest, I think." "I have to go too," I said. Carl moved over to stand in front of the sink and motioned me to join him. I stood next to him, very aware that my left thigh was pressed against his right one. "I pee in the sink because it saves water that way. No point flushing the toilet for maybe a pint of pee." He grasped his penis and drew the foreskin back half-way, enough to expose the front of his glossy purple glans. I did the same, baring the rounded front dome of my cock-head, which looked exactly like his. We let our streams flow, and Carl turned on the tap, flushing the yellow liquid down the drain. I noticed that the lips of our slits parted with our streams in exactly the same way. When we'd drained ourselves, we milked down our pricks and replaced our hoods fully over the heads. Carl spoke again: "Maybe we do the same things, too. In the shower, if I have to pee, I often hold the end shut and make the foreskin balloon out." He demonstrated, pinching the foreskin nipple between two fingers. His other hand grasped the end of mine, exerting light pressure. "Like this," he said. There was a moment of heavy silence while he waited for my reaction. I grasped his penis right behind his two fingers and gave his bulb a quick squeeze. "I do the same thing," I said, looking into his eyes. "I also enjoy squeezing the head." I gave his cock-head another squeeze and saw his eyes flicker slightly as the bulbo-cavernal reflex kicked in, making his cock-root throb. "I can see why," Carl said. "That feels really good." As he spoke, he began tugging on my hood, stretching it out and stimulating the buried nerve endings. My prick began to swell. "I wonder if our erections are the same size," I mused, continuing to squeeze Carl's cock-head rhythmically. His prick began to engorge, like mine. "Mine's six inches exactly," he said. "I never measured the circumference, but I know it's a bit thicker than average." We'd shifted positions while speaking, and now we were face to face, our pricks seeming to reach for each other across the gap. "Mine too, thick like yours," I said. "Looks like both of us have big heads." "Seems like it," he replied. "Let's skin them back to compare." By now, our cocks were at full attention, standing proudly between us, and I began pushing back slowly on his foreskin. The head gradually appeared, first the big round front dome, then the broad body, and finally I had his hood stretched tightly over his rim. Carl reciprocated, and now our tips were mostly exposed, glossy, purple, and wet. He touched my wet tip with a finger, making the head throb, then brought it to his nose. "I love that smell," he said. "I think we even smell alike." Carl's fingers pushed my hood fully back off the ridge, and it snapped down into the deep groove behind it, forming a thick fleshy collar. "I think your tip looks exactly like mine," I said as I pushed his foreskin back into the groove, noting the high flaring ridge that I'd just bared exactly matched mine. "Yours is pretty clean," I added. "So is yours," Carl replied. "I don't have much secretion under my foreskin. You don't seem to either." "No, but I like having it well lubricated. Feels more comfortable that way. That's why I use a couple of drops of Astroglide after I take a shower and dry off." The eyes of our cocks stared at each other. "Look, our pee-holes are the same," he said in wonder and satisfaction. I saw what he meant, as the lips of our slits had pouted as our tips had swelled, and now both formed teardrop shaped orifices. "We both have straight shafts, both have that big vein on the right, and it looks like we both have exactly six inches." As I spoke, I worked his hood forward over the ridge, feeling its folds caress the sensitive tissue there. Carl bent slightly to inspect my cock more closely. "Funny, your ridge's back face has the same little bumps mine does. I think those are nerve endings, because they're very sensitive. Here, pull my skin back again and see." I pushed his foreskin into the fully retracted position, and saw that indeed he had the same nerve-studded kind of corona as on my glans. I rubbed my fingertip around his ridge, tracing its outline as I spoke: "Just my opinion, but I think a flaring ridge looks very sexy." I smelled my finger, inhaling his delicious man-smell. "Yeah, that's a gift of nature," he replied. "It looks nice, and feels nice, especially what you're doing." His fingers began slowly sliding my foreskin back and forth in sensual excursions along my turgid glans. My fingertip ran down to the underside of Carl's purple glans, pressing into the hot spot. His body shuddered, and he sighed deeply. "I haven't often messed around with guys, but this is really enjoyable, doing it with my twin. Not only do we look alike, but our cocks seem to be twins too. They call that `doppelganger' in German." "Sounds like `double,' " I replied. "Yep, that's what it means." Carl moved forward slightly, pressing the big purple head of his cock against mine. The round front domes slid against each other, the smooth friction exciting us both. "I wonder if there's room for my big twin under my foreskin," I said. "Might be. When I was 20, I did this with my cousin, who was about my age, but cut. He'd been born in Chicago, and a lot of big-city kids got cut, even back then. He'd told me how he'd always resented having the skin snipped off his cock without his consent, and he wondered what it would feel like to have skin." "You satisfied his curiosity, then?" "Oh, yeah! He was my favorite cousin, and there was nothing I wouldn't do for him. I pulled my hood over his head, and he was surprised it stretched that far. His cock had a big head, just like mine, I mean ours." "How did he react?" I asked, both curious and excited by this revelation. "He blew his load in just a few seconds," said Carl. "Having my skin over his cut head was such a turn-on he lost control, and I felt him shoot his load into my hood. He was so turned-on that his knees buckled when he began to shoot, and I had to hold him up to keep him from collapsing." "What did you do then?" I asked, becoming more excited as Carl continued his narrative. "I pushed him up against the counter, we were doing this in the bathroom, and then I unloaded too. I think if our holes had been lined up I would have shot my load right down his tube." Carl began sliding my hood forward until the orifice was poised at the front of his glans, then continued, pushing it over the front of his. I grasped the edges of my hood, stretching it out until it formed a deep tunnel, and slid it the rest of the way to engulf his glans. I heard him gasp. "Wow! That feels so good, being joined to you this way. Maybe we'd better go in the bedroom. I know my knees would buckle if I unloaded into your skin right now." He led me, walking sideways slowly and carefully, to the big queen size bed, and we managed to lie down facing each other without breaking the contact. "Here, let me help," I said as I grasped his foreskin, which was still rolled back behind his rim, and pulled it towards me by the edges. The stretchy wet hood slid over his foreskin-covered head, then up onto mine, a double envelopment. "That's so sexy," Carl muttered through gritted teeth. "Now we're really joined together. "I feel the same way you do," I replied. "This is a really hot turn-on for me." My fingers began massaging both cock-heads through the double layer of skin, and I saw Carl's eyes begin to close. "I'm close, so close," he whispered. "Do your eyes always close when you're about to come?" I asked. "Oh, yeah, especially when I'm excited like now. You?" "Mine too," I replied, massaging the foreskin-covered bulbs. "I think I'm ready to pop too. If you come first, I'll follow you in a second." I felt his big helmet throbbing through the skin and against mine, and I knew he was seconds away from climax, when he'd release his hot fluid into our hoods. "Now," he murmured as his hips began to buck slightly. His entire body tensed, and I felt a hard throb against my tip, followed by a hot gush as his first jet poured into my hood. Carl howled, crying out helplessly as the biological storm overwhelmed him, and another hot jet swirled around my aching glans, triggering my release. I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore, and my awareness of the outside world faded quickly as my mind focused only on our joined pricks. "OOOHHHHHH," I cried out, as the intense pounding of orgasm began deep inside me. A hot jet shot up my tube, burning like lava, sending me into an orgastic frenzy. My engorged cock throbbed hard, then throbbed again as another heavy jet gushed up my urethra, joining his fluid as it gushed from my hole. My fingers felt the ballooning of our combined foreskins as they filled with hot cum, and my pounding glans was awash in juice, floating in the liquid fire that filled our hoods. I felt Carl's fingers join mine, wrapping around our cocks, as we ejaculated again and again, lost in the free-fall of release. I lost track of time, aware only of Carl's hot cock spitting its load against mine, in counterpoint to my jets. An eternity later, my spasms faded, and I began to be aware of Carl in front of me, and as my eyes opened I saw him studying my face. His orgasm had ended seconds before mine, and as he recovered he watched me avidly. "I love to watch a man's face as he comes," he explained. "You were really into it." As he spoke, I felt his cock begin to soften, and Carl rolled his foreskin back off mine. We slowly pulled apart, my foreskin sliding back from his tip, lubricated by our heavy viscous streams. A heavy gush of white cream flowed onto the bed as our cocks separated, and Carl grabbed a towel to sop up our mixed juices. "I wonder if we have the same taste in drinks?" he asked. "I'm partial to Martinis, gin, four to one mixture." He saw my face light up as I answered: "That's exactly what I drink. Want me to make them?" "Hey, you're my guest. I'll make them. Let's go into the kitchen." I followed him, and sat in one of his excellent overstuffed kitchen chairs, equipped with casters, as Carl fixed our drinks. "What do you like in yours? Olives? Onions? On the rocks?" "Olives, of course. With an onion, it's a Gibson," I replied. "On the rocks, too, the way you're fixing yours." "Some like both olives and onions," he said as he speared a couple of olives with a toothpick and dropped them into my drink. "Then it's a Garden Salad," I said as I accepted the drink from his hand. He sat down opposite me and lifted his glass in a toast. We took a deep sip of the icy liquid, and I saw him smiling at me. "It's amazing," he began, "how alike we are. We're not at all related, yet we seem to like the same things. You like pizza?" "Oh, yes I do," I replied. Pepperoni, mushrooms, and anchovies. You?" "Amazing. I like my pizza exactly that way too." He lifted his glass and took another sip, and I followed suit, feeling the icy liquid burn its way down my gullet. Then I realized we were still naked, and that a drop of cream was seeping from the end of my foreskin. I didn't want to wet Carl's chair, so I grabbed for a napkin, and when Carl saw what I was doing, he took a napkin as well, placing it under the nipple of his foreskin. "I guess we'll work up appetites in a while, he said. "Then I'll send out for a pizza. There's a small mom and pop shop that delivers, and they make far better pizzas than any of the big chains." "Sounds good," I said. "I'm particular about my pizza like you, and don't like the chains either." I took another pull at my drink, emptying it, and Carl grabbed my glass and fixed us each another, as he'd finished his as well. As we sipped our second round, my hand went absently to my crotch. "I like to cook, too," he said. I replied that I, too, enjoyed cooking. "I'm into French and German cooking," he said. "I'm into French and Italian cooking, but really love German food too, especially sauerbraten and wienerschnitzel." "Those are my favorites," he exclaimed with a big smile. Suddenly, I realized that the revelations of our many similarities were having a profound effect on me, not only emotional, but also physical. I was getting hard again. "Uh, Carl," I began. "I know. I'm that way too," he said. I then saw that his left hand was in his lap. "This conversation's got me horny, even though it wasn't about sex," I said as I drained my glass. "You too?" "Better believe it," Carl replied as he stood, and I saw his cock sticking straight out, the foreskin stretched tightly over the bulging helmet, closed at the end with a tight pucker, exactly like mine. "I think it's the intimacy, or the strong likeness between us, or something, but I'm getting horny again. Just like you." He gulped down the rest of his drink, grasped my hand and led me back into the bedroom. "What now?" I asked, unsure of myself. "Go ahead, relieve yourself. I want to watch you jack that beautiful prick. Then I'll do myself." He pushed me flat on the bed and placed a couple of pillows behind my head. "Need any help?" he asked, grasping the end of my foreskin and pulling it out. My prick jerked at his touch. "Thanks, but you just sit back and enjoy the show." I began stroking my foreskin up and down, baring the big purple helmet to the rim, then engulfing it fully. "Can I help just a little bit?" he asked as he cupped my balls. "I just love your touch," I said. Go ahead and help all you want." I reached for his hardness and began working the foreskin slowly, careful not to bring him too close to the brink. "That feels wonderful," he said, sighing deeply. "I'm not trying to make you cum," I explained. "It's just that touching your prick excites me." "Touching you excites me too." Carl smiled as he gently kneaded my tight scrotum, the sensations adding to my excitement. He swiveled around to almost a "69" position, laying his head on my left hip and placing his groin where I could easily reach it with my left hand, as I was playing with his cock. I was trying to hold back, wanting to prolong the moment, but the memory of our docking and the sight and feel of him next to me fueled my fire, and I felt my excitement rising uncontrollably. Although I was stroking myself slowly, I felt myself approaching the brink. As I always do when I get close, I now drew my prepuce back all the way, making it snap down into the deep groove behind my corona. This was to let the glans swell fully, free from my tight foreskin and the pressure of my fingers. I saw Carl's eyes widen as he watched my glistening cock-head expand and turn darker purple. "When you start coming, I'll palm your tip," he said. I knew what he meant, that he'd place the palm of his hand over the front of my glans to give me extra friction. I pulled back hard on my skin, stretching the many nerve endings inside, moaning as the sensations filled my prick. I began to move the thick fleshy collar, bumping the flaring ridge lightly. We both watched as the teardrop at the end of my glans began to seep clear fluid, the precursor of the hot jets to follow. I felt a tightening in my cock-root, and my eyes began to close. Bumping my ridge produced a tickling feeling, and as my excitement rose the tickle changed to a hot tingle. The liquid seeping from my glans, aching for release, coated it and flowed down onto my fingers. Suddenly a hot spark filled my glans and shot down my shaft, and I cried out helplessly as the heavy pounding of orgasm began in my cock-root. My hips bucked, and I grunted heavily as the first hot jet shot up my urethra, burning its way and filling my prick with sensation. Suddenly, I felt a roughness against the front of my glans, and I knew it was Carl's palm rubbing the sensitive tissue, lubricated by my emissions. My hot tip throbbed with the delicious agony of the friction, and my cock-root pulsed again as I surrendered to the stimulations. I don't remember when my hand dropped away from Carl's prick, but he told me later that if I'd continued touching him, he'd have lost it right then. My state of altered consciousness continued for an indefinite time, then my orgasm dissipated and I opened my eyes again. Carl was smiling down at me. "Man, that was something!" he said. "I really enjoyed watching and feeling you unload." He was rolling up the cum-soaked towel and pulling my hood forward to protect my now shrinking head. Holding my prick between two fingers placed right behind the skin-covered ridge, he dabbed at the thick wet pucker in front. I noticed his prick was still fully hard. "Now it's your turn," I said, pushing him flat. He had another towel in his hand, which he spread over his chest and stomach. His penis was flat against his abdomen, and I picked it up by the thick foreskin. His fingers closed around mine, reminding me that he wanted to bring himself to climax, and I sat back to cup his balls with my other hand. He began sliding the foreskin up and down the engorged head, slowly and lovingly, and each time he bared the twin lobes under his glans, I pressed a finger hard into the triangular groove to hit his frenulum. Each press of my fingertip made him gasp, and the pace of his stroking quickened as his excitement mounted. I wanted to watch and feel him come, My impatience obvious as I saw his glans swell more fully and turn darker purple. Now he'd skinned it back completely, and was running his fingertips around the naked, flaring rim, concentrating on the back face where the spiculae of sensation studded the surface. I continued pressing my fingertip into the underside of his helmet, and watched his eyes close and his face contort as the combined sensations overwhelmed him. Carl's body shuddered, he let out a loud "OOOHHHH," and tumbled into the free-fall of orgasm as I felt his glans pulse against my fingertip. My other hand, cupping his balls, had its fingertips pressed into the sensitive tissue behind his scrotum, and felt the pulse of the first ejaculation first. The dark purple glans throbbed hard as the first jet erupted, shooting five inches into the air. Carl was crying out helplessly, totally submerged in waves of sensation, fingertips dancing over his hot hard glans. I felt another hard pulse behind his balls, and another jet shot from his teardrop shaped orifice. Carl howled again, his body shuddering as more hot jets gushed from his engorged glans, but not as high this time. Now his emissions were just heavy dribbles that stretched the lips of his hole, and they flowed down over his fingers. When he'd calmed completely, I began rolling up the towel. I pushed his foreskin forward over the precious head, and dabbed at the thick pucker to get the last drops, as he'd done to me. I pressed a fingertip under his balls, probing for the urethra so that I could milk the last drops from him. I ran my fingertip in successive stages, up the bottom of his softening prick, until the last drop had seeped from between his cock-lips. "I really enjoyed that, Carl." I leaned down to kiss him tenderly on the forehead, then on the lips. "How long did our orgasms last?" he asked. "Any idea?" "Oh, no," I replied. "When I was coming, it felt like eternity. When you came, I was too caught up watching the action to count. However, some years ago I was curious about that. Up to then, I'd thought my orgasm lasted maybe five, ten seconds. I set up my camcorder to record a jack-off session. You can imagine my surprise when I played it back." "What happened?" he asked. "I'd put the counter on the screen and run the tape slow-motion. From the first jet to the last drop, it was 43 seconds." "That long?" Carl commented. "Yeah, that long. I'd found that my time-sense really got distorted when I came, and time seemed to compress. Anyway, I'm only semi-conscious during orgasm. Does that happen to you?" "Yeah, you saw what happened. I was laying there, totally out of it, just wrapped up in my sensations, hardly even aware that you were right next to me." I felt a profound sense of satisfaction hearing this, because I was happy and proud to have contributed to Carl's pleasure. "When I begin to come, I withdraw into myself. I'm less aware of what's happening outside my body, because my mind if totally focused on my cock," I said. "That's a lot like what happens to you, I think." "Yeah, you were lying there, totally helpless in my hands," Carl added. "You were crying out, gasping, writhing, shooting, and all that goes with it." "I'm glad you saw it." "I'm really glad I did, and I'm glad you were here to see me," Carl said. Our conversation petered out, and sank into the deep sleep of total fulfillment. We never did eat a pizza that night. Next morning we awoke, noticing each other's erections. "Let's get cleaned up," Carl suggested. "Since we can't both sit on the pot, you go first, then I'll go while you're taking your shower." I followed his suggestion, and after we'd finished we returned to the bedroom, dressed, and went out to breakfast. Then I found we had another similarity in our tastes in food, as we both ordered biscuits and gravy. We drove back to his house and stripped down once in the bedroom. It was a foregone and unstated conclusion that we were going to continue our sexual explorations. My prick was still soft when Carl crouched next to me on the bed. Picking it up with two fingers, he bent his head and I felt his tongue lap the edges of my foreskin. My prick began to swell, but long before it attained full hardness, I felt his tongue slipping into my hood, probing my slit. "OOOHHHH," I moaned. "That's just what I like." He raised his head. "I just had to taste you," he said. I squirmed into a "69" position with him, grasping his prick with two fingers at the crown of the foreskin-covered head. I slipped my tongue inside the hood, tickling his slit as he'd done to mine. I felt his tongue probing deeper, caressing my swollen corona as the thickness of his tongue stretched the nerve endings in my foreskin. I did the same to him, then pushed his foreskin back with my lips until the shiny purple helmet was gloriously exposed. I think the glans is the most attractive part of a man's prick. "That is beautiful, just beautiful," I whispered. I saw that his teardrop shaped orifice had filled with clear fluid, and I licked it away with my tongue-tip, savoring its tasty slipperiness. Carl peeled my foreskin back with two fingers, uncovering the head right down to the ridge, and running his tongue around the sensitive nerve endings of the back-face. I shuddered in delight. "That really reached you, didn't it?" he asked. His other hand cupped my balls. "Your tongue feels so warm against my prick," I replied. "You really know how to make it feel good. Carl's response was to engulf my tip completely, lip-locking behind my flaring ridge. I did the same to him, my tongue-tip probing his meatus, then tracing small circles around it. "Let me do you first," he suggested. "That way, I can concentrate on what I'm doing." "Yeah, you're right. I might get carried away and bite you," I said after releasing his trapped tip. My fingers still encircled his hot hard shaft, gently sliding the skin up and down. "Just don't make me cum," he warned. "I want to have my eyes open to watch you when you shoot your load." His lips caressed my flaring corona, and I felt the rough surface of his tongue on the broad upper surface of my glans. "I'm so full of coffee that I'd be hard even if you weren't sucking me," I said. "I find a full bladder heightens my sensations, don't you?" Carl removed his mouth from my prick long enough to say: "Me too. I don't think we'll be able to hold off for long." He then resumed lapping at my naked glans, carefully caressing every surface and enhancing my arousal. I felt my tip swell even more, reaching the plateau just before orgasm. I saw his cock-head, inches in front of my eyes, turn darker purple because my caressing fingers were exciting him too. "I'm almost there," I whispered. "You'll have my load in just a few seconds." Now his lips engulfed my glans completely, locking into the deep groove behind the head as he stretched my foreskin tightly back. The nerve endings in my foreskin tingled, and I felt the tingle spread to the swollen rim. When the fingers of his other hand dug into the tissue behind my balls, pressing into the urethra, my cock throbbed in response. "OOHHHHH," I groaned as Carl skillfully fueled my excitement. My engorged cock-head was aching for release, and I moaned again as a hot buzzing tingle filled it. My eyes closed as I felt myself slipping over the brink. "Now I'll make you come," he said as he momentarily removed his mouth. His fingers pushed my foreskin up over the head of my cock, then snapped it back hard as his lips again engulfed my glans. He pushed my skin up as he withdrew his lips, then drew the foreskin back to let his lips slide down the length of my turgid glans. The doubled stimulation sent me over the brink, and I howled in agonized ecstasy as my cock-root throbbed hard. I felt the sharp tickle as my first jet poured into my tube, rushing towards the tip. The fluid burned like hot lava, and I cried out helplessly, lost in sensation as I creamed into his waiting mouth. Jet after burning jet shot from my hot tortured tip as Carl drained me, sucking avidly to draw the hot fluid from my throbbing prick. It felt as if my entire being was gushing out through my engorged cock, and I was dying in stages as my consciousness waned. My entire world was in my cock as his hot lips and encircling fingers filled my glans with sensation, and I felt utterly helpless as I gushed again and again. My tip became very sensitive, and Carl must have sensed this, because he stopped. When my frenzied gushes faded, and I began to regain full consciousness, I heard his voice: "Man, you really blew a load that time. Your cock was throbbing so hard in my mouth I thought it was going to burst." His fingers tenderly pulled my hood up over the head as I began to relax. "You really had me going," I said. "That was so hot I almost fainted." Carl was wiping the end of my foreskin with a towel while milking the residue from my softening prick. "Want to rest for awhile?" he asked. On the contrary, I wasn't about to lie back and relax because that orgasm hadn't sedated me: it had energized me, and I wanted to do to his beautiful prick what he'd done to mine. I pushed him flat on the bed and grasped his turgid staff between two fingers. "Now it's your turn," I said. "I'm going to drain the cream from your cock and swallow it all." I pulled his foreskin back as my lips engulfed his hot shapely purple helmet. I felt his cock-head throb against my lips as his body responded, and I pulled my lips away to pump his long thick foreskin all the way up to envelop his head and form a thick pucker at the end. Now I snapped his hood all the way back hard, stretching its nerve endings as he'd done to mie, and engulfing his hot hard glans with my lips. My tongue-tip played with the hole, then I withdrew and pushed his hood back onto the head. "That's…that's… soooo hot!" he exclaimed as the sensations reached him, and I snapped his hood back again to bare the head for my lips. I pushed back hard, feeling the tissues tighten under my lips as they closed around his tightly drawn back foreskin, and my tongue tickled the hot spot under the head. I moved my head back, sudying the hard purple glans as I pushed the thick fleshy collar over it, then drew his foreskin back once more the bare the beautiful head for my waiting lips. I felt his hot hard glans throb against my encircling lips and a hot gush filled my mouth. I heard him cry out, filling the room with an agonized howl as he shot his thick gush. His hips bucked, and I rolled onto his legs as I pulled my lips back and bumped the ridge with his foreskin. His cock throbbed again and his body struggled against mine as the full force of orgasm whipped him. Now I was draining him, and he gushed again, the hot jet pouring into the back of my throat, forcing me to swallow urgently. I sucked his swollen tip hard, making him shoot again. His cock thrust into my mouth, spilling another hot gush into the back of my throat, and I heard him sobbing helplessly as the rush of sensations overwhelmed him. Now I pressed a finger into the underside of his cock at the base, blocking further ejaculations and making the pressure build up inside. Carl cried out and shot again, this time making his tube swell with the pressure. His cock throbbed again and he screamed as his urethra swelled. Now I released the pressure, sucking his glans to provoke another stream, and a steady gush poured into my mouth. He was helpless in my hands as I drained him completely, and in another few seconds I'd exhausted him. I stopped because I knew his tip must also have become super-sensitive like mine at this point. "OOOOHHHHH," he moaned softly as he began to relax. I pulled his foreskin up to cover the super-sensitive glans, and dabbed at the thick pucker with a towel to capture the residue as it dripped from his foreskin. My fingertip milked his softening cock, forcing out the drops that had been trapped in his urethra, and I wiped them away with the towel as they seeped from the thick foreskin pucker. "I was watching your big tip swelling and turning darker as you got close," I said. "It's really beautiful, with those sexy curves that I adore." "Yours is the same as mine in every way," he replied. "I think I could stare at it all day. When you get hard, I love to skin it back so I can see the big purple head." "You love to taste it too, I noticed. Just like I love to taste yours." "Yes, yours tastes and smells so nice," Carl said. "I'm so glad we both still have our skins. They're really fun to play with." "They keep our tips moist and protected, nice and sensitive," I said. "Ever try wearing your skin back? I know it'll lock behind your big rim even without a hard-on, like mine does." "I tried that once, didn't like it," I replied. " I didn't do that again, especially because I want to keep my tip protected, the way nature designed it." We dozed off, fully satisfied. Waking up a couple of hours later, we were both hard. I saw that the big bulge in Carl's foreskin distended the hood tightly, almost stretching the pucker at the end. Mine was the same way. Obviously, we were either piss-hard or ready to go again, probably both. "Gotta pee," he said, "but I can't with a full hard-on. "Same here. I have to get it down a bit before I can release it. Maybe we can do a bit of exercise to get them down." We both got up, on opposite sides of the bed. Carl looked at me and began jogging in place next to the bed. His prick bobbed up and down, and gradually began to soften. I copied him, and soon my prick had lost its extreme hardness, and I followed him into the bathroom. He turned and grasped my foreskin as I moved next to him in front of the sink. "Here, I'll skin yours back and aim it, and you do the same to mine." His fingers firmly slid my hood back half-way off the head. "Okay, I'll do yours." I slipped his foreskin back, partly revealing the precious head. "Ready?" I asked. His answer was to let his yellow stream flow in an arc into the sink, where it flowed down the drain. As he had mine aimed into the sink, I consciously relaxed my sphincter and within seconds my stream was mixing with his. He finished first, and I carefully milked his prick to extract the last drops before sliding his foreskin forward to cover the glans. I felt his fingers pinching off my urethra, stopping my flow. "Wow, I just love handling your penis," he said. "It works exactly like mine. I bet you're feeling a hot tickle inside your tube right now." When I nodded he continued: "I often do that to myself. It gives me a thrill without getting me hard. I'll do it for a quick thrill in the men's room, or other times when I have to pee." "I've done it a few times myself," I replied. "I guess we not only look alike, but we enjoy the same things, even how we handle our pricks." Now I felt his fingers slacken their grip and my flow resumed. When the last trickle had seeped from the end of my glans, Carl began milking my shaft to force the residue out of my tube. He dabbed the end with a piece of toilet paper before sliding my foreskin to its original position. "There's another thing I'd like to try. Maybe you've heard of it. It's called `Princeton,' and it's a lot of fun." I'd heard of it, and had done it a few times. "I'd love that," I said. "Which one of us takes it between the legs?" "Let's flip a coin," Carl suggested. We did, and I got to slide my prick between his thighs. Carl pulled a condom from the bedside table and I poured some Astroglide into it to provide lubrication. The condom was to prevent hair burns and to keep my sperm from going into his pubic hairs, where it would be hard to remove. Carl rolled the condom over the head of my hard penis after I'd pulled the skin all the way back to lock it behind the ridge, then lay on the bed on his left side. I eased in behind him as he lifted his leg, and my prick slid between his thighs, right under his perineum. The engorged head pressed against his balls. Carl spread a towel in front of his stomach to catch his discharge, and I wrapped my fingers around his shaft. "Ready?" he asked. I began thrusting, slowly and deliberately, as I pulled his long foreskin completely off the big purple helmet, now fully engorged. I felt the delicious sensation as my penis slid back and forth inside the condom. Carl had tightened his thigh muscles to squeeze my prick, and the friction was deep and satisfying. I pushed his snug foreskin up over his swollen head, making him gasp at the sharpness of the sensations. I slid my left arm under his waist to hold him close to me as I moved. "How does that feel for you?" I asked. I kept sliding his hood in time with my thrusts, hoping we'd keep pace and come to climax together. "Nice, very nice. I just love to feel your fingers around my prick," he said. I felt the contours of his swollen glans through the skin as I moved it, and I kept my thumb over his flaring corona because I knew this produced heavy sensations that would drive him over the edge. My index finger pressed into the hot spot under his glans to sharpen the sensations, as I knew my orgasm would soon arrive. "I can tell it won't be long before you blast off," I said as I kept massaging the thick foreskin over the swollen head. I snapped my thumb a couple of times over his corona, forcibly sliding the skin back and forth over this crown of nerve endings, feeling his body tense in response. I felt his hand slide between his thighs under my prick, a fingertip caressing the underside of my glans as it slid back and forth. I pulled back hard on Carl's skin, tightening it under the head and stretching the nerve endings to make him gasp. Although I was consciously trying to keep my crotch muscles relaxed to delay orgasm, Carl wasn't going to let me. His insistent fingers pressed hard into the hot spot under the head, making my crotch muscles spasm each time I thrust. I knew he'd make me come soon, and I knew that the orgasm would overwhelm me, turning me into a thrusting, gasping automaton. I pulled his foreskin forward again, twisting it as I covered his glans. I felt his glans swell and harden even more through the skin, and I knew he was right there, ready to pop. "Any second…" he muttered as the full force of the sensations reached him. My fingers on his penis and the tip of my prick bumping against his balls were an irresistible combination, and I felt his body begin to tense against mine. While I was still able to think consciously, I imagined how it felt for him, a turgid penis thrusting between his thighs and warm fingers snapping his tight foreskin back and forth over his sensitive tip. Then I felt the involuntary tightening in my crotch muscles, the precursor of the waves of orgasm that would soon overwhelm me, and I began to let go. "Me too….." were my last works as my hips slammed hard against his buttocks, my body responding automatically to the sharp sensations in my swollen prick. A hot fire seemed to engulf my glans, then spread quickly down to my cock-root, and I was lost. I dimly heard myself crying out; "HAH-AH-AH-AH…" as tumbled wildly off the edge. The first hot burning jet rushed up my urethra, pouring out into the condom and engulfing my glans. My fist tightened around Carl's prick, and I felt his hardness begin to throb as he joined me. I heard his loud agonized cries fill the room as his first jet pulsed up his penis, but I didn't see it gush from his tip because my eyes were screwed shut. I felt his body strain against mine, driven by the hot heavy waves of orgasm, and I cried out in tortured ecstasy as my hot prick throbbed between his thighs. We were semi-conscious, aware only of our physical needs and our heavy jets gushing from our pricks as we shared the orgasm. We were truly joined in sexual passion, and shuddering against each other, our conscious minds on "HOLD," until we had drained ourselves. Then we began to relax, our breathing slowing and our rock-hard erections beginning to soften. I held on to the condom as I pulled my prick from between his thighs, and he turned around to face me. He gave me a tender kiss on the lips, and we drifted into sleep.

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