Date: Mon, 28 Jan 2013 20:34:27 +0000 (GMT)
From: Hasan Khan <hasancutkhan1987@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: City Man Clinic Part 9

This story is a fantasy and contains acts which should not be attempted in
real life. Be safe, be careful. Do send a donation to Nifty so that they
can keep up the good work.

Peter Adebi, my nursing assistant spends more time than perhaps he should
at Stardust, one of the city's more notorious clubs. But where else in town
would you find two back to back glass urinal troughs which enable you to
look not just left and right but opposite and survey a line of cocks
shooting out a night's worth of beers and spirits. Taking a break from the
dance floor Peter recently found himself, legs apart relieving himself
opposite a remarkably handsome half-caste African. The stranger was half
way through his visit when Peter fished out his lengthy circumcised penis
and began to let the stream flow, holding his cock half way down the thick
shaft, giving his opposite number a full view of the neatly cut head and
flaring piss slit. The young man, in his early twenties perhaps, held in
his hand a partly skinned back cock which when he had finished, he began to
milk it, pulling the close fitting skin up and down several times, giving
Peter a full view of the shiny but dark helmet and the pink brown skin
beneath it. Aware of Peter's interest he continued the milking though no
more drops appeared. Now he was skinning himself back to the hilt,
provoking his organ to rise and stiffen, while his eyes fixed ever more
intently on the jet black cock opposite him. With just a curl of the lips
and a flicker of the eyes Peter beckoned to the gorgeous stranger to follow
him.

Minutes later the two were groping each other furiously in a darkened
alcove off the main floor, hands down jeans and lips and tongues tasting
sweaty torsos. Neither had the intention of bringing the other off, both
instinctively knew that one or the other would lead them to the comfort of
a sofa or bed in a bachelor flat before the night was over.

Walking in the cool night air, away from the ear splitting noise of
Stardust's dance floor the two made their introductions in a more
gentlemanly fashion. Peter explained how he had come from Ghana and was
working for me and the young newcomer introduced himself as Daniel Ideye
Sinclair of mixed Nigerian and English parentage, now studying at one of
the local universities.

In the early hours of the morning Peter and his handsome pick up were
wrapped in each other's arms, stretched out on Peter's king sized bed. The
dark black body of one contrasted with the deep coffee cream skin of the
other. In one respect though the genes of west Africa had abundantly
blessed them both. Peter, at five inches flaccid and thicker even then than
many men when erect, could rise to an impossibly girthed eight to nine
inches, enough to split most of his partners apart. Peter's dark almost
black, plum shaped crown topped a shaft discretely scarred just below the
rim of his glans by a circumcision performed in the first weeks of
life. All in all, a magnificent Ghanain rod and sceptre.

His new found friend was just as long in the flaccid state. In fact the
deep brown foreskin which covered the end of his penis seemed to extend its
length in the eye of an appreciative beholder.  The close fitting tube of
skin extended beyond the glans and ended neatly, like a truncated cone,
without creases or folds. Whilst slimmer than Peter's monstrous organ the
young man's cock rose to a respectably thick nine inches when provoked to
erection by Peter's strong fingers running up and down its surface.

Daniel hungered to explore and taste the jet black cock which lay on
Peter's thigh. Leaning over his fingers traced the delicately smooth scar
line, only millimetres below the helmet. Round and round his fingers ran,
first one way and then the other and finally up into the deep groove where
once there had been an infant's frenum. Bringing his head down to the now
engorged black plum he took the whole of it in between his lips with one
gulp. Seth was obviously a master of the art and tongued his way in and out
of Peter's piss slit, he explored every angle of the surface of the
throbbing glans and finally set to tonguing his way around the circumcision
line before opening his throat to swallow inch after inch of the gigantic
African cock.

Releasing himself from Peter's embrace and letting the rampant cock fall
from his mouth Seth once more began to finger the glans and the scar at the
top of the shaft, this time delighting in the total hardness and girth of
the organ at the site where foreskin had been stripped and cut away. Peter
was very conscious of the particular attention being paid to his
circumcision site and all the more so when Daniel's tongue locked itself
into the deep ridge between his helmet and shaft. In return he began to
work on the uncircumcised cock which had stiffened, skinned itself back and
was poking proudly towards him. The scent of African musk from below
Daniel's black prepuce was enough to send him into an ecstasy of
delight. The natural perfume mingled with the aroma of perspiration from a
dark skinned body took him in his mind back to the places of his childhood
and youth, under the African sun.

Several years in England had given Peter plenty of practice in pleasuring
the uncircumcised. Using his strong fingers and solid lips Peter worked his
way up and down the nine inch cock well aware of how to give pleasure to
one who still possessed the skin with which nature had covered the shaft
and helmet.

Both were careful for the time being not to bring their pleasure to a
premature end. Having brought one another to the point of leaking milky,
watery juices the couple disentangled for a while and lay body to body
pleasuring one another with light caresses and the occasional pinches on
thick, dark ringed nipples.

Daniel was entranced by the thick circumcised cock which he held in his
hand, running his fingers around the delicate scar. "I love African cut
cock. Yours is gorgeous. Were you cut as a baby or later?"

"As a baby, I really don't remember anything about it. But I believe my
grandfather did it."

"Fascinating, wouldn't a doctor have been more usual."

"Well, yes and no. Lots of babies and children do get circumcised by
doctors or nurses back home but the men my family have been circumcisers
for generations. We call them wanzams in Ghana, men trained to do the
cut. The skill is passed on from father to son."

"Do you know how to do it?"

"Oh yes, I was trained by my father while I was still at nursing school. He
used to take me out with him when he had been asked to go and circumcise in
a family."

"Do tell me more. It sounds quite intriguing. Did you use proper medical
equipment and all that or was it sort of primitive?"

"In the old days, grandfather and his ancestors would have used a slice of
teak wood with a slit in it and a sharp iron knife. He's an expert on what
plants and herbs to use for stopping the bleeding and making the cut heal.
My father taught me how to cut using surgical forceps and a scalpel but we
still used the traditional poultices"

"Your grandfather did a wonderful cut. I love the way your shaft skin goes
all the way up into the grove. I'm not really keen on the circumcisions
that have stripped the skin all the way down the shaft. Do all boys get cut
like you where you come from?"

"More or less. Some of the doctors and hospitals use clamps now imported
from abroad that tend to take off more of the skin. But the wanzam
tradition is to cut off just enough to bare the tip. The skill is not to
stretch the skin too far when you cut it."

"So you've done lots of circumcisions?"

"I did a fair amount in Ghana before I came here after my father had
trained me. I've done a few here for African families. Lots of them prefer
our way of doing it."

"Is it always babies you cut or do you do older kids?"

"Mostly it's babies but sometimes you get a family who decide to leave it
till later, perhaps just before a boy starts school but that's not very
pleasant, `specially when the kid starts screaming and struggling. I never
got used to that back in Ghana. The father and an uncle or cousin holding
the kid legs apart while I tugged at the foreskin trying to skin it back
and separate it before doing the cut in one slice. With a baby you slice it
off and then strip away the inner lining and it's quickly done. But with an
older boy we try to get the inner and outer skin cut in one go, so you have
to make sure it can be skinned back first."

"I think I'm going to cum just listening to you. Can you cut me? I want it
so bad, just like yours. I want to be a proper African with a skinned cock
not a half breed with a white man's pullover."

"You've had too much to drink. You've got a gorgeous cock."

"No I haven't. You don't understand. I should have had it done like you
when I was a baby. It's all rather complicated. I need to tell you
something about myself so that you'll understand."

Daniel's voice trembled a little as he said this, as though he had a
confession to make.

"I suppose two years of African Literature and Linguistics have opened my
eyes to things I never really new about. You see, I really am a bit of a
mixed bag. Mummy was at university reading law when she met my father. He
was from Nigeria, here on an engineering scholarship but more or less
contracted to go home after graduation. From what I have picked up, on the
quiet from one or two members of the family, mummy had a brief fling with
him and nature took its course, so to speak. I believe there was a
frightful scene when Grandpa and Grandma found out what had
happened. Fortunately for mummy, with Grandpa on the university Senate and
Uncle Frederick on one of the Faculty Boards she was able to discreetly
intermit for a while, disappear off to a nursing home somewhere in the
country and then resume her studies. I was packed off to Aunt Julia for a
few of years.

The only reference to my father is my middle name. I think mummy was in
fact quite fond of him and she gave me his name, Ideye, though there was
never any question of marriage. Once mummy was set up in practice and able
to afford a nanny at home I was brought back.  Then after a few years it
was off to school and onto the ladder which took me to university
myself. Poor mummy, she's terribly clever and all that but she's never been
able to talk to me about my father and of course, he was back in Africa
before I was old enough to know about him.

Prep School was wonderful. I enjoyed every minute. You know how eight to
thirteen year old boys are, no shame and all innocence. We grew up in an
intimate little community and given that we were a rather mixed bag, the
English dominating but a fair sprinkling of Africans and Asians there was
delightful acceptance of colours, shapes and sizes. I might add not just of
general physique but of the more intimate regions! Each continent has its
roundheads and cavaliers so I never thought much about that and I didn't
see that much change in that respect when I went off to senior
school. Things just got bigger and hairier. There were a couple of Nigerian
boys in my dorm, very dark and handsome, and sure enough they had been seen
to, so they said, as babies. I knew that that was not really the done thing
in England and anyway, I was quite happy with my own equipment as nature
had given me.

I remember a Housemaster giving us "the talk" most of which was about
avoiding dirty business and salacious talk, though I think looking back he
was rather late for that. There were just a couple of remarks about the
"plumbing" and the fact that some boys may have had a little operation to
remove the skin from the end of their organs and that the rest of us should
pay attention to bathing ourselves properly. It was all rather vague and
for him, I suppose, an awkward annual chore.

Adolescent fumblings apart I was really quite inexperienced till I went off
to university. I knew I liked boys and men more than girls but had no real
experience of either. Freshers Week changed all that and I've not looked
back since. But this thing is starting to get to me. We've read east and
west African lit day in day out and I'm beginning to get a feel for the
life my father must have known before he came to study in England, and of
course what he went back to. Do you know there are whole societies which
define themselves in relation to circumcision: relationships between
generations, clans, brothers and cousins are all seen in the light of the
knife? It's not just the pains and trials of the primitives out in the bush
it's a whole question of identity and belonging. Well of course you do,
having grown up where you did. I suppose it's not too different from what
my father what have known.

I've been thinking for months now that I want go through with it. A sort of
token of respect for my father and that half of my identity. I've been
brought up so terribly English that I've hardly ever thought of myself as
African. And yet at least half of me is. I think the cut would be a sort of
confirmation of the fact. I would carry the mark with me and I'd be sure
that one part of me was linked to daddy's culture and tradition.

Do you think I should? Or am I getting carried away with some sort of
craziness?"

"No, I understand what you mean. At home an uncircumcised boy would be
ridiculed as wet and half female. The cut makes him dry and a man. No woman
would want to have him and his foreskin would always be a source of shame."

"Can you do it for me?"

Peter laughed. "Well yes, but not now! If you really want then come to the
clinic and we can sort you out there. It won't take long but you won't be
doing this for a while afterwards." With which, Peter pulled Daniel closer
to him and began to masturbate the heavy tube of flesh which was dripping
milky fluid once more from the deep piss slit. Reaching to the side Peter
found the tube of Stallion lubrication and smeared Seth's now rampant rod
with the cool fluid before working a quantity around his own ass hole.

Tunring himself over, stretching his legs and raising his dark buttocks to
Daniel, Peter gave himself to the Nigerian. The gigantic mushroom pierced
the waiting hole and began to thrust its way upwards into the heat of
Peter's chute. The student was an accomplished lover pumping and thrusting
his cock deep into the Ghanaian's body. The love making was accomplished in
every possible position lasting longer than Daniel could ever
recall. Conscious more than ever of his foreskin riding up and down his
shaft as he plunged his way in and out of Peter's ass he became lost in the
fantasy of being very soon circumcised by the man around whom his arms
gripped.

When at last Daniel began to pump his copious fluids into Peter's body, he
cried out, collapsing against the jet black flesh of his lover, his own
copper brown skin perspiring and gleaming in the soft light of the
bedroom.....

A week later, Daniel appeared at City Man Clinic, to meet, as he said, his
destiny. Peter had already discussed his case with me and we had decided
that in the circumstances Peter himself should perform the circumcision and
I would be on hand to deal with any complications or stitching, if that
should be required. Daniel had made it clear that he wanted to be cut as
low as possible near to the glans, as was Peter. The Gomco method was
obviously not appropriate. Peter would perform an old fashioned forceps
circumcision and try to get the cut as low and tight as possible.

Daniel insisted that he did not want to be anaesthetised for the procedure,
that he wanted an authentic experience of initiation in his African
heritage. So after swabbing him down with antiseptics I stood at the top of
the operating table and leaned over ready to hold him firmly. Peter very
carefully marked a pen line millimetres below the glans on the outside of
the black foreskin and then pulled it up tight ahead of the glans, locking
it into a pair of steel forceps.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this without the painkillers?"

"Certainly. The pain will only be brief. I hope." Daniel smiled nervously
as he looked up at me and then with determination on his face raised his
head towards Peter, ready to watch the severing of his foreskin. I pressed
down on Daniel's shoulders. Peter pulled on the edge of the prepuce and
with one very rapid slice excised the dark brown length of flesh.

Daniel's whole body tensed and he let out a deep gasp before suddenly
starting to breath deeply and rapidly as the shock spread through his
groin. Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead, as he clasped his
hands tightly beside him. It was only when Peter opened the forceps and the
wounded red flesh began to slip back down over the glans that Daniel let
out a low moan, which betrayed the agony that he must have felt at that
moment. When the skin came to rest, retracted to it new position Peter
swabbed at the oozing edge and I held on tight to Daniel's upper torso,
knowing that every touch of the gauze must have been excruciating for the
young man. The bleeding was slight enough to avoid suturing the wound and
we settled for an application of tissue glue before bandaging the end of
Daniel's penis in several layers of gauze.

Peter took it upon himself to get Daniel home and promised to visit him
daily until the wound showed definite signs of healing...............

Two months later, Peter invited me and Daniel for a post-op celebration at
his apartment. Daniel was dressed in the tightest flesh hugging jeans and
perhaps it was just my imagination, but I felt that I could see already the
flaring head of his circumcised penis through the light blue material. With
one arm around his shoulder and the other resting on the inside of his
thigh I pulled myself closer to him and worked my fingers towards the
tightly packed groin.

Daniel anticipated my movements and began to undo the belt, buttons and zip
of his jeans. Slipping them down, he thrust his groin towards me, though
the prize was still enclosed in the thinnest silk briefs. Running my hand
over the surface of the great bulge I felt the heat radiating from the
hidden shaft. Unable to control my impatience I slipped the black silk
downwards and freed his penis from confinement.

Standing back for a moment I contemplated the newly circumcised penis in
its still flaccid state. The faintest ring of pink flesh separated the
glans from the dark brown shaft. Peter had judged the cut perfectly
according to Daniels wishes. In a few months the cock would look as if it
had been born without a foreskin. Like Peter he would have a solid shaft of
dark flesh, with the most discreet scar hidden below the edge of the crown.

Going down on my knees I took the warm flesh between my lips and explored
its now permanently exposed glans. My tongue buried itself into the deep
piss slit and flicked at the remains of the frenum. Slowly and surely the
organ began to swell and fill my mouth, pushing its way towards my
throat. Hours of experiment with Peter had enabled me to swallow
unimaginable lengths of thick black cock but Daniel's girth but me to the
final test and I wondered what it would be like to be impaled by the rectum
on the gigantic Nigerian pole.

I did not have long to wait. Daniel was as anxious as me to move from the
hors' d'oeuvre to the main course. With the frenzy of new lovers we
stripped each other bare and Peter willingly played the role of maitre d'
anointing Daniel's rigid cock with Stallion lube before greasing my
quivering asshole. Daniel's circumcision scar had now widened and a bright
reddish pink ring circled the top of his shaft, glistening with lube. I
leaned forward, holding onto Peter, ready for Daniel to make his triumphant
entry into me.

Rubbing his flaring helmet against my asshole he slowly stretched it apart
and began to slip himself into my rectum. Despite the lube I felt as if I
would be torn apart by the rock hard organ. Once the crown was well inside
me Daniel pushed himself ever further into my chute and I held on tightly
to Peter, waiting for the moment when Daniel would begin to thrust in and
out of my tightening hole. I did not have long to wait. Freed of his
foreskin Daniel for the first time had the experience of jerking himself in
and out of another male, relying solely on the friction of glans and shaft
skin to give him pleasure.

Deeper and deeper he plunged himself into me, ripping himself out to the
hilt before burying his cock into the deepest recesses of my body. Having
gone for eight weeks without any relief it was not surprising that Daniel
should very soon be on the point of releasing his pent up fluids. He must
have felt that he was on the verge for he grabbed me tightly around the
waist and pulled my ass into his groin as he began to jerk in and out of me
with increased vigour. In a few moments I felt his already impossibly
swollen shaft throb against the tender tissues of my rectum and then the
flood began. Wave after wave of thick African cream filled my rectum and
Daniel moaned deeply with the pleasure of release. His glans and shaft,
unconstrained by fleshy foreskin, pulsated inside me, bringing him new and
exquisite pleasures.......

Peter and I have a close circle of friends and Daniel became one of their
number. Within a few months the pink flesh of his discreet circumcision
scar began to darken. By the year's end, it was as deeply coloured as the
skin of his shaft and like Peter's, one would never believe that his penis
had ever been encumbered by surplus skin.



If you enjoyed the story and have your own circumcision fantasies or
experiences to share write to me at hasancutkhan1987@yahoo.com

Jeremy