Date: Sat, 7 May 2011 14:12:05 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jack Santoro <jackinnm1@yahoo.com>
Subject: Buddy Sleeve Trio, Part 5

Buddy Sleeve Trio, Part 5
By Jack Santoro
Jackinnm1@yahoo.com


We awoke in each other's arms, our pricks rock-hard from full
bladders. Fred kissed me lightly on the lips, a sign of his tenderness that
I really appreciated. As I was to prepare breakfast, I took the bathroom
first. When I went into the kitchen, it was his turn. I had decided to fix
ham and eggs again, with toast, as we'd had yesterday morning and enjoyed
so much.

When Fred came into the kitchen and sat in one of the chairs at the table I
saw he was as naked as I was. There was no point in dressing when we'd soon
be naked again.

"I like the way your prick swings from side to side when you walk," I told
him. "Heavy-ended pricks swing that way, and you've got a big heavy bulge
inside your foreskin." His flaring rim was clearly outlined through the
skin.

"Yours swings the same way, I've noticed," he replied. "Yours is just as
heavy-ended as mine but without the skin."

"Maybe it's just my personal taste," I said as I poured us some coffee,
"but I think the most attractive pricks are those with big heads."

"It's more than your taste, Jack. All the porn videos Ive seen feature guys
with dicks like ours. The heads are as wide as the shafts or even
bigger. They come in different shapes, but they're all big. It seems to be
a consensus among the porn makers and their audiences."

"I guess you're right," I agreed. "Porn videos show pricks with all types
of heads; helmet, bell, strawberry, but they're all big. It's only in real
life that I've seen guys with little acorn size heads."

"Here, le me put one of these on you," Fred suggested. He held up a couple
of small rubber bands the diameter of our shafts. "After the way we drained
ourselves yesterday we might need a little help maintaining good
erections. Anyway, it feels good." I walked over and stood facing him. He
lifted my prick and slipped one of the rubber bands down to the base. It
felt snug and I realized that it would slightly constrict the veins,
helping any erection I got. He put the other on his shaft, making sure it
was right at the base. Now I served the food and we began eating.

"I liked the way that buddy sleeve felt yesterday," he said.

"I'm not surprised," I replied. "You'll love it today. When Mike and I did
Princeton before, we used a condom so that we wouldn't be creaming all over
the other guy's pubic and leg hairs. Condoms are smooth, and don't have
those pleasure bumps like the buddy sleeve does."

"Oh, yes, they do make a difference," he agreed. While he was speaking I
noticed that my prick felt fuller, and when I looked down I saw it was
half-hard. Fred saw the way I was looking and turned slightly in his chair
so that I saw his prick. It had also swollen.

"This sex talk is getting us hot," he remarked. "That and the rubber
bands."

"It'll help if we drink a lot of coffee, as we did yesterday," I said. "The
caffeine will get us wired and haing full bladders will do a lot for our
erections, as you know." He reached under the table and I felt his squeeze
my glans a couple of times. My cock-root throbbed in response.

"This will help too," he said with a smile. I reached down and twisted his
hood slightly over his glans.

"I bet that helps you too," I told him. I felt his prick swell between my
fingers and realized that I didn't want to do the dishes after we'd
finished. I'd leave them in the sink and rush into the bedroom. It seemed
that we'd thought along parallel lines, for he said:

"I can just imagine you doing the dishes with a hard-on."

"We'd better finish eating," I told him. By now our pricks were almost
completely hard, and I didn't want to waste the food.

"Yeah, we'd better satisfy both our appetites," he agreed. We released each
others' pricks and returned to eating. Our pricks, however, did not go
down, because of the constricting rubber bands and the anticipation of what
awaited us.

We finished eating and while I filled the sink with hot water, we drank the
last of the coffee. After piling the dishes in the sink we headed for the
bedroom. I took a roll of paper towels with us. I spread a towel on the bed
and asked:

"You want to go first, like yesterday?"

"Oh would I," he replied. "I'm so hot and turned on by this." I believed
him. His prick was rigid, and a drop of clear fluid distended the meatus
visible through the slot in his foreskin. I lay on my left side, put four
thicknesses of paper towels between my thighs and squirted some Astroglide
inside the buddy sleeve.

"Here, slip this on and then get your prick between my thighs right under
my balls," I instructed him. He slid the well-lubricated sleeve easily onto
his prick, pushing the foreskin back far enough to lodge behind his high
flaring corona and then lay down behind me. I raised my right thigh and
felt his prick and the sleeve push between my thighs. Now I lowered my
thigh, securing the sleeve and his prick.

"Okay," I told him. "Start pumping at you own pace." I felt his prick start
to slide in and out of the sleeve and his arm came over my body as he
grasped my prick.

"You want me to lube you up so that we can come together?" he asked?

"No, just keep me hard," I told him. "After you come I want to do it to you
and feel what it's like using the sleeve."

"Those pleasure buds inside are doing a real number on my cock," Fred told
me. He was thrusting slowly, relishing every stroke. Now I tightened my
thigh muscles slightly.

"WOW! That was sensational!" he said. "That squeeze really gave my cock a
thrill. Those little studs just squeezed my rim and made me throb." I knew
a squeeze would give him a heightened sensation because Mike and I had
experienced the same squeeze effect when we'd done Princeton with condoms.

"Well, Fred, just keep going slowly and make it last," I advised
him. "Those pleasure buds produce powerful sensations and I'd like you to
enjoy them before you blast off into orgasm." I'd felt him pick up the pace
after I'd squeezed his prick, and was concerned that with his foreskin and
sensitive glans, he'd come uncontrollably.

"I know, Jack. Getting there is half the fun."

"Just keep up a steady rhythm and you'll really enjoy the ride," I told
him. "You'll be coming soon enough, so don't rush it." As I spoke I felt
his finger squeezing my glans to maintain my arousal. The rubber band
constricting the base if my penis ensured that I was rock-hard and I
enjoyed the gentle sensation of my cock-root throbbing with every squeeze
he gave me.

"You've got a nice cock, Jack, and I want you to enjoy the experience too."

"I really am enjoying it, Fred. You're making my cock-root throb, I feel
you thrusting between my thighs, and when you start coming I'll feel your
prick throbbing hard down there." Fred was making his experience last and
milking it for every sensation. His thrusts were slow and as long as the
buddy sleeve allowed, so that he received the maximum number of studs
riding over his flaring glans with each stroke.

"You're not doing badly yourself, Jack. Your balls just tightened up, which
means you're one step closer to coming." I was unable to see his penis or
scrotum, and so had to judge his stage of excitement from his breathing. So
far it had remained pretty steady.

"Still enjoying the way those little pleasure buds are working over your
helmet?" I asked.

"Oh, they're really hot around my tip, Jack. They're hot all over my shaft
too. I'm getting harder even without trying or going faster." I realized
that it was quite likely that, even maintaining a steady rhythm, the hot
friction of the studs would draw the orgasm from his body.

"Just keep at it," I advised. "Slow and steady does it." As I spoke I heard
his breathing become more ragged. Now he'd stopped squeezing my helmet and
was grasping my prick in a firm grip.

"How you doing?" I asked.

"I think I'm slipping over the edge," he said in an agonized voice. His
thrusts were now faster, and I guessed that his big tip was turning dark
purple and losing its sponginess. This would increase the effects of the
studs on his nerve endings.

"If you're ready, go for it," I urged. He'd begun grunting and was now
thrusting faster, driving his prick between my thighs in hard plunges that
slapped his abdomen against my buttocks.

"HUNH! HUNH! HUNH!" was what I was hearing now, the music of the last
plateau before orgasm. His straining body was tightening up and I placed my
fingertips between my thighs, pressing against the underside of the sleeve
to excite his gee-string.

Fred cried out helplessly as he slammed against my body, and I knew he'd
been overtaken by the irresistible force of his orgasm. His body strained
in hot frenzy as he shot his loads into the sleeve. Feeling his tension
spread to my body as well, I appreciated the mind-numbing ecstasy he was
undergoing, the sublime feeling of the inner explosion and the pumping of
hot juice through his throbbing prick. I wasn't about to join him in
coming, but I vicariously experienced his sweet sensations. I looked down
past his fist gripping my prick and saw some of Fred's white cream dripping
out of the end of the buddy sleeve onto the paper towels, filling the air
with the odor of Clorox.

He wasn't struggling as hard now: his orgasm had relented. He was still
breathing hard but not grunting as loudly. His thrusts became less
forceful, less deep, as his orgasm subsided. He let go of my prick and
hugged me hard, pressing his face against my back. After a minute I felt a
wetness against the back of my thigh as his softening prick had slipped out
of the sleeve and fallen against me.

It took only seconds for Fred to recover and he pulled the buddy sleeve
from between my thighs and slid it on to my prick without adding
lubricant. The warm man-juice he'd poured into it was more than
enough. Then he placed a wad of paper towels between his thighs and lay
down in front of me, lifting his right thigh so that I might place my
sleeve-covered prick between them. Then he lowered his thigh, clasping my
prick tightly. I began to thrust, but very slowly.

"I'm going to go slowly," I told him. "I don't want to blow my load too
quickly."

"Right," he said. "Make it last. Enjoy the ride." I reached over him to
grasp his now soft prick and remove the rubber band. Then I began milking
the residue out of it by running my index finger up his urethra. The drops
fell out of his meatus onto the wad of paper towels I'd had between my
thighs, and when the last drop emerged I slipped his foreskin forward to
cover and protect the precious head.

"I can feel every pleasure bud because I'm going so slowly," I told him.

"I know," he replied. "I did too at the start. I felt each row sliding over
my corona, rubbing and compressing the nerve endings."

"Your prick's more sensitive than mine so it must have felt really good to
you," I said.

"You're right," he replied. "It wasn't easy going slowly. I wanted it to
last, but my cock-head could take only so much."

"I wish I could have watched your prick while you were doing that," I
said. "You've got a really nice prick, with a straight shaft and big helmet
head."

"Yours and Mike's are the same, only you don't have skin," he added. "I
really like the big helmet heads you have. Your hole gapes when you get
hard. I've hardly ever seen that on a guy."

"Yeah, my hole pouts. When it's soft, though, it's just a slit, exactly
like yours." The conversation, combined with the constricting rubber band
and the slow, sensual effect of the sleeve's pleasure buds, was bringing me
closer to the critical point. Now I felt a different pressure on my prick
and realized that Fred had put his fingers between his thighs to press on
the sleeve.

"Feel that?" he asked. "I'm pressing lightly on the end of the sleeve to
give you a little friction on the front of your head. You'll feel the
effect in a few seconds." I was already feeling it: a tickle in my front
dome, a promise of more pleasure if I thrust harder. I picked up my pace.

"That feels good," I told him. "I'm getting a lot of sensation in my tip."

"You're thrusting harder and faster," he informed me. "This is going to
make you come soon. The harder you thrust, the harder you'll want to." He
was right. I was thrusting harder than before, and wanted to give it more
energy because of the delicious sensations in my helmet.

"Yeah, Fred, I'm in the home stretch. I can feel it. I won't last much
longer." Now I was pumping my prick hard between his thighs, chasing that
sensation with the front dome of my helmet.

"You'll be tingling soon," he said. "Then I'll feel your prick throbbing
and you'll be blowing your load."

"I'm tingling now," I said, my last words as my eyes closed and I began to
withdraw into myself.

"I'm glad your tip's tingling," he told me. "Just go for it, let yourself
go and blow that load." His voice was very faint as my awareness of the
world outside my body dimmed and my consciousness was filled with the
blooming sensations in my prick. The tingle in my helmet was more intense
now and I was pumping full speed to produce the sensations. The pleasure
buds rubbed over my hardened corona, and compressed the nerve endings to
make my entire body shudder as the tingling in my glans exploded, shooting
down my shaft.

"HAH-HAH-HAH," I yelped as my cock-root contracted and a hot hard jet of
cream poured into my urethra. My breathing was ragged and my body jerked in
orgasmic spasms as another gush of sperm rushed up my tube, giving me a
delicious burning feeling right up to my orifice. I cried out again,
helpless in the mind-bending throes of orgasm, pumping my hips to bring
forth more jets.

I heard Fred say something in the distance, but couldn't understand him as
I was so focused on the pleasure the hot jets were giving me. My prick
throbbed hard with each expulsion, and I cried out again, relishing the
delightful agony of my orgasm.

The next jet was less intense, and the one following that was a leisurely
gush that flowed up my urethra and dribbled from my orifice. My orgasm was
fading, and my body began to relax. Now my contractions were minor, and
only a few drops remained in my urethra because I'd drained myself. My
prick began to soften and I pulled out of the buddy sleeve. Fred turned
around, wadding the paper towels into a tight ball, and I felt him slip the
rubber band from my shaft before I opened my eyes.

I was always slow to recover from orgasm, and it wasn't until another
minute or two had passed that I was fully conscious again. Fred gave me a
tender kiss on the lips and I opened my eyes. I saw and felt him milking my
prick, finger pressing into the underside of my shaft to force the residue
out the tip.

"You really had a hot one," he said. "I know that because I had the same
thing just before you. It really drained me."

"Yeah, it was hot," I replied. I hugged him tightly and we fell into a deep
sleep.

The End