Date: Thu, 8 Feb 2018 16:46:48 -0500 From: jon white Subject: The Jacks VI THE JACKS VI She had stopped sucking and was just rubbing the underside of my intensely engorged helmet. "Oh yeah, close now...o..o...Oh, OH...YESSS!" I howled and my boner jerked up from her finger and spurted a clearish mostly precum jet. She was watching with open mouth as my cock jumped and squirted again and again about a foot in the air. When my organ finally became quiet she looked up and said, "Lordy, I think I enjoyed that as much as my orgasm! How about tomorrow night?" She said. But it didn't happen. I woke up the next morning with a very sore throat and a runny nose. I called her and told her I was out of commission for a while and hoped she wasn't going to catch my cold. "OK, but call me every day anyhow," she said. Three days later my sore throat was gone, my nose was still juicy but I felt a lot better. I still didn't want to take a chance of infecting her but The Jacks were meeting that night and I figured my hand wouldn't transmit my bug. And besides, I was horny again. When I got there, early, there were only a half dozen men present. I was halfway undressed when a young nice looking blonde guy came into the dressing area and started to strip. "It's my first time here and I'm not sure of the rules," he said. I told him it was a jacking club and that was about it so pick your dick and have fun. "Well, you have a nice one so could I, uh do it for you?" he said, staring at my woodie. He had a long skinny one with an oversized head so I reached over, took his tool in my hand and towed him over to the table with cookies and a jar of lube. I greased myself up and he said, "Yeah, I like it that way too," so I lubed him up. "Go slow and easy, I want to stick around awhile," he said, and I replied likewise. He had a nice touch, worked my helmet first and I played follow the leader. His eyes were glued to my woody and he had a wide smile. "I like your touch. I look around and see guys beating the meat, literally, and that would turn me off big time," he said. "I couldn't agree more. I just wish I could figure out how to make that time just before I cum, that so called preorgasmic inevitable ejaculation time, longer. I mean make it last a few minutes rather than seconds," I said. "Well, let's work on it," he replied. So we did but he finally announced he was at that magical moment so I stopped stroking and just used a fingertip to tickle his leaky piss slit. He was staring at his cock and his hand on my boner had stopped moving. "Right on the edge....just.....oh.....OH..SHIT!" He yelled and his tool jumped off my finger and began to spurt. He shot about half a dozen squirts before his dancing dick became quiet and the last of his cum oozed out and ran down his organ. "Well, I couldn't make it last long enough, but it sure was nice. So much for a shorter evening than I hoped for. Thanks," he said and left for the changing room. Nice guy, he now had no interest in helping me out. So I looked around and focused on a massage table where five guys were massaging the man on the table with one hand and stroking the cock of the guy standing next to him with the other hand. The massagee had a wide grin and a very hard tool which was obviously enjoying the attention. The man standing next to me was short with a little boner. He had a string of precum hanging from it so I salvaged that and applied it to it's delivery tool. "Nice touch," he said and began to fondle my balls. "Lovely cock, I wish I had one that big," he said, and began to stroke me. Shortly, no pun intended, I felt his organ throb and he exploded. A lot of cum, I mean a whole lot! Not squirts but about ten big gushes. "Gee, I guess I needed that," he said. He let go of my tool and left the table. I was getting needy, my cock was for sure. A new guy took Shorty's place. Looked like a retired pro football player. About 6'5", 250# with a cock that really filled my hand. "Name's Tim," he said. I told him my name was Dan and he sure wasn't Tiny Tim. His touch was surprisingly soft and he could have been a professional dong stroker. The guy being massaged, without a word, shot his wad, not a very big one, thanked everybody, got up and left. The new guy climbing up on the table was nice looking, about 40, maybe thirty pounds overweight with an uncircumcised dong. I reached over and pulled his foreskin back with my first stroke. He had a pointy undersized cockhead. Nobody at the table was talking for a couple of minutes until the man across from me announced he was about to cum. I couldn't see it but I sure could hear it: "aaarrrRRGHHH!" He yelled, and he bent over as though he were in pain. Maybe it was his orgasm or the expertise of the moose jacking me but quickly the pressure in my groin was rising and this time I didn't want to delay my climax any longer. The thought flashed through my head that if I could find a way to prolong this wonderful feeling of inevitable orgasm I could win a Nobel Prize. But I remained silent, just looked down at my leaking boner and it exploded. TO BE CONTINUED "The danger of communication lies in the assumption it has been accomplished." G B Shaw