Date: Mon, 4 Jul 2005 06:31:42 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jack Santoro <jackinnm@yahoo.com>
Subject: Sexual Rebirth, Relationships, 1/1

Sexual Rebirth
By Jackinnm@yahoo.com

Note: Please remember that this story is fiction,
although based on fact. The surgical procedure
described is not exactly the way it happened, and the
experience was much more complicated and painful than
the one described herein. This story is the way it
should have happened, if the plastic surgeon had been
more skilled, and if I'd been luckier.

*****

	One of the most difficult aspects of my life was that
I'd been circumcised as a baby, without being
consulted and certainly against my wishes when I was
old enough to understand what had been done to me. My
father wasn't circumcised, and I wondered why he and
my mother allowed this to be done to me.
	When I became an adult I began researching plastic
surgery to restore the foreskin. This was long before
the various stretching methods became widely known,
and at the time I thought plastic surgery was my only
choice. I did a lot of research and networking, and
finally found a plastic surgeon who had performed
several foreskin restorations. This was how I met
Bill.
	I was in the waiting room that Friday and saw another
man seated across from me. We were both looking at
magazines and wrapped up in our own thoughts, when he
broke the ice. This was fortunate, because I was too
shy to come forward and introduce myself, much less
discuss what I was seeking.
	"Hi, I'm Bill," he said. I looked up at him and saw
that he was about my age, 40, but had blond hair and
green eyes compared to my brown hair and eyes. When I
stood, I saw that he was about the same height, six
feet, but with a slightly thicker build.
	"I'm Jack," I muttered. "I guess you're here for the
same thing I am, plastic surgery." We shook hands and
he sat down next to me. I felt uncomfortable because I
really didn't want to begin discussing my impending
plastic surgery with a stranger.
	"Specifically, foreskin restoration," he answered,
and suddenly he had my undivided attention.
	"Me, too," I whispered, meeting his gaze. His eyes
lit up and he gripped my hand.
	"We've got something in common," he went on. "We
ought to get together, compare notes." I found myself
nodding and then I handed him my business card.
	"My home number and address are on the back," I
explained. "Let's get together after we're through
with the doctor," I continued, my shyness evaporating
with the excitement of the moment. I was face to face
with someone who had gone through the same experiences
I had, and surely felt the same way. It was almost
instant bonding.
	Foreskin restoration seekers, as we'd been labeled,
used to lead a lonely and mostly isolated existence.
We couldn't talk about it to relatives or friends, as
most would not understand. At the time, most people
did not question the American practice of circumcising
baby boys, believing the medical propaganda that it
prevented diseases, promoted hygiene, etc. I and other
seekers felt that we'd be ridiculed if we revealed our
wish to be whole again, as had happened when I'd
mentioned my wish to Dr. O'Hara, a urologist I'd seen
a few years before. He'd ridiculed me for even wanting
my foreskin back, before telling me that it was
impossible.
	The doctor's receptionist called me first, and I met
Dr. Burton for the first time. He was a kindly man of
about 50, and when I'd explained what I wanted he
didn't seem disapproving or judgmental, the way the
urologist had been. He told me to drop my pants and
get up on the table, where he examined my penis.
	"You've got a tight circumcision," he began. "There's
not much slack even when you're flaccid, and your
frenulum has been completely removed."
	"Will that cause a problem?" I asked apprehensively.
	"In a way, yes," he replied. "It won't prevent me
from reconstructing a foreskin to cover your glans,
but it won't be as sensitive as if you'd had more
shaft skin and a frenulum to work with. That skin and
all the nerve endings in it is gone forever. However,
I'm sure you'll find that once your glans is covered
again, and becomes moist, it will become more
sensitive. Right now the tissue is dry and leathery,
and this will go away once it's protected again."
	"When can you do it?" I asked.
	"I can schedule you for surgery next month, say on
the 3rd. You'll go into the hospital the night before,
and you'll stay for a couple of days after the
surgery. If you have medical insurance, it won't pay
for it, so I hope you have enough money. The fees will
be $5,000 for me and about $1,000 a day for the
hospital. That includes the operating room fee."
	"Will there be extra cost for anesthesia?" I asked.
	"Yes, you can count on about $400 for the
anesthesiologist. That's the good part about this. I'm
sure that when you were circumcised you had no
anesthetic, but for this you'll be asleep and won't
feel a thing."
	"Why general? I thought you could do this under
local."
	"If I were only working on your penis, that would be
possible," he replied. "However, the penis will be
only a part of it. First, I'll make a circular
incision about halfway down your shaft and fold the
skin up over your glans. The foreskin is actually two
layers, and I'll be taking some skin from the inside
of your thigh, a relatively hairless part of your
body, for the outer layer. So anesthetizing your penis
would be only part of it. I'd have to inject a large
area of your inner thigh, and that would take a lot of
needle sticks. I've also found that the patient is
much more comfortable if he's asleep. The surgery
usually takes a couple of hours."
	"All right," I said. "Is there anything else I need
to know or do between now and then?"
	"Yes, there is one thing you could do to speed up
results. You can get a head start on regaining
sensitivity in your glans by keeping it covered with a
condom between now and then. You'll also get a slight
increase in sensitivity in the shaft skin. Just make
sure you put a couple of drops of water-based
lubricant inside the condom to provide moisture." I
got up, pulled up my pants, and bid him goodbye.
Outside, Bill looked up at me expectantly.
	"Okay, give me a call when you get out of here. I'm
heading straight home, and we can compare notes this
evening if that's convenient." He nodded and just then
the receptionist called his name.
	Bill arrived at about six, after phoning to confirm
that he was coming. I popped a frozen pizza in the
oven and as it heated we compared notes.
	"Burton seems like a nice guy," he said. "He told me
he'd already done about half a dozen of these, and
felt he had the technique down pat."
	"I didn't know that," I replied. "We just discussed
what he'd be doing to me. He said he'd use skin both
from my penis and the inside of my thigh to build a
new foreskin. It seems pretty easy."
	"He'll be doing the same thing to me. I asked him if
it would leave scars," Bill said. "I'm really
concerned about that. I already have one scar on my
dick, and I don't want a bunch of new ones."
	"What did he say to that?" I asked.
	"He said that any surgery leaves scars. However, he's
a plastic surgeon, and he's going to use very fine
sutures to minimize scarring. Also, some people heal
better than others. As for the scar ring from my
circumcision, he said that it would be constantly
moist and would disappear in a few months. Anyway,
it'll be inside the foreskin at the back."
	"Yeah, the guy who circumcised me did a really cheap
and dirty job," I commented. "I've got a thick brown
scar behind the head." The pizza was ready now, and I
took it out of the oven and sliced it after it had
cooled for a couple of minutes. We didn't say much
while we ate, as we were both hungry. The day had been
emotionally taxing and had drained us both, although
there hadn't been much physical effort. After we'd
finished, we went into the living room to continue the
discussion.
	"When is he going to do you?" Bill asked.
	"On the 3rd," I replied. "How about you?"
	"The next day. I guess we'll be in the hospital about
the same time."
	"Maybe we can be in the same room. They charge less
for semi-private," I ventured.
	"I'd like that," Bill said. "I'll call Burton on
Monday and see if he can arrange it that way."
	"I'd like it too," I said. "At least I'll have a
roommate I can talk with."
	"I feel the same way."
	"I can hardly believe it's real," I said. "All these
years being cut, and now I'll have a prick that's
approximately normal."
	"Yes, I want to be normal too. You can imagine how
this bothered me all my life."
	"You and me both," I added. "The bastard doctor who
clipped me did a really shitty job, even removing my
frenulum."
	"I've still got mine," Bill said.
	"I'm really happy for you," I told him. "Mine looks
like a real butcher job."
	"Since we're here, want to compare? I'd like to see
yours and show you mine." I nodded and began removing
my clothes. Bill began undressing as well. When we'd
piled our clothes on a nearby chair, we sat next to
each other on the couch. His limp penis was larger
than mine.
	"Man, you weren't kidding about that scar," Bill
said. "It's really thick and brown." My scar ring was
about ¼" behind my rim, and very prominent. He traced
it with his finger, and then lifted my penis to
inspect the underside. "He really did remove your
frenulum," he added. I looked at Bill's penis and
commented:
	"Your scar's not as visible as mine, but it's
jagged." I turned his penis over and added: "At least
he left you your frenulum." I ran my fingertip over
his sensitive strip and felt his penis begin to swell.
	"That feels good, but I so wish I had a foreskin to
slide over the head. I've always envied the guys who
still had their skins."
	"I feel the same way. I remember how curious and
envious I was when I first saw an uncut boy jack off.
I was only 12, and his prick was magic for me. He had
a really long thick foreskin, and that moment I
realized what I was really missing."
	"Yes, I felt like a cripple when I saw my first
foreskin," Bill added. Now his penis was hard in my
hand, and I felt his fingers gently squeezing mine.
	"You should be glad about what nature gave you," I
said encouragingly. "You've got a little over six
inches, and the shaft is straight. You've got a nice
mushroom cap, too, just the right size for your
shaft." Now my penis was fully hard and Bill added his
comments:
	"Yours is nice too. It's smaller than mine soft, but
about the same hard size as mine, medium-thick, and
you've got a really nice head on it. I like the way
your rim flares out. Mine doesn't do that. Your hole
looks like a teardrop now that it's pouting."
	"Yours pouts too," I said, "but it's like an oval." I
tightened my grip slightly and moved his shaft skin up
to cover his corona. "You've got more slack than I do.
My shaft skin's really tight when I'm hard."
	"Yes, I see that. You're right. That doctor was a
butcher the way he cut you." Bill's fingers tightened
around my penis, but he was able to move my shaft skin
only very slightly. I spoke:
	"Today, they cut babies with these special clamps.
They seem to do a better job. Back when we were born,
doctors did it freehand and often they cut off too
much."
	"I know what you mean, Jack. I saw the job the doctor
did on my sister's boy. When they bought him home from
the hospital he had this little plastic ring around
the head, with the skin pulled up over it and tied
with a string. The doctor cut off the skin ahead of
the string and the string kept it from bleeding. Next
week the ring fell off by itself, and I saw the head
was still covered halfway with skin."
	"Yeah, ours look almost like they were done with
chain saws," I said.%
0D
	"Especially mine, Jack. My scar's light, but so
jagged I wonder if he used pinking shears."
	"Both our heads are kind of leathery from being dry
so long," I said.
	"All my life," he said. "I was cut at birth. How
about you? I guess the same, right?" he asked.
	"Yeah, when I was just a few days old. The bastard
never asked me what I wanted."
	"Me too. That's what I really resent. That damned
doctor didn't even care what I thought. He just cut
me." A note of anger was in his voice, matching my
tone.
	"They say you never miss what you never had, but
that's a lie," I said emphatically. "I always missed
my foreskin from the time I realized it was gone."
	"I feel exactly the same way you do," he said. "I
never bought into that crap about it being healthier
to be circumcised. The damned doctors just do it for
the money!"
	"Yeah, a few extra bucks here, a few extra bucks
there, and soon he's got enough for a Hawaiian
vacation!" Both our pricks were hard, and now I saw
that a drop of clear fluid had filled the oval at the
end of Bill's prick.
	"I wish so much I had skin to slide over the head,
the way I saw the normal guys do it," he said. "Ever
use a condom to jack off? That feels like a foreskin,
I guess." I was only slightly surprised at his words,
because I'd often masturbated with a lubricated
condom, trying to recapture the feeling of a foreskin.
	"Yeah, often," I replied. "It's my favorite way of
doing it."
	"I didn't think ot bring any with me," he said.
	"It doesn't matter. I've got a box of them in the
bedroom. Let's go there now." I got up to lead the
way. In the bedroom I took a couple of condoms and a
tube of water-based lubricant from the bedside table.
	"I use the same lube," Bill said. "I like it because
it rinses off with water, and isn't greasy."
	"I use these Magnum sized condoms. I like the way
they feel loose on my prick, and slide easily the way
a real foreskin would." I tore open one envelope, and
poured some lubricant inside the condom. Bill was
sitting next to me, and without asking I began
unrolling it down over his penis, leaving a little
slack beyond the head for sliding action.
	"I really like the way you're doing that," he said.
As I rolled the ring down to the base of his shaft he
opened the second envelope and lubricated the condom.
I felt his gentle touches as he unrolled it down my
shaft.
	"That feels good, too," I said.
	"You really need the Magnum size," he commented as he
rolled it down the rest of the way. "You need the room
for that big head of yours. See how the rim makes it
bulge on top?"
	"I like the loose feeling. That makes it slide really
easily, and I can always tighten up if I need more
pressure." As I spoke I felt Bill's gentle fingers
begin to slide the condom up and down my glans. I
started working his condom over his mushroom, using
very little pressure until I found out how much he
wanted.
	"That feels nice, Jack," he said. "Just keep doin' it
that way for awhile." I kept up my light stroking,
running my fingers over the contours of his front dome
and rim.  Bill was expertly stroking the condom over
mine, and I felt my prick responding to the
stimulation.
	"Your balls are getting tight," I commented. "Bill's
low hangers were now drawing up against his body, a
sure sign of his mounting excitement.
	"Yours are too, Jack. "I'm glad this is good for
you."
	"It is, Bill. It's really exciting to be doing this
with a guy who feels and thinks like I do, and who's
gonna be getting the same surgery for a new foreskin
next month."
	"Yes, we have a lot in common," Bill added. "We'll
even be sharing the same room."
	"That's a really good part of it. I'll have someone
to talk to. So will you."
	"I'm getting really excited, and I can feel that you
are, too," he said. "I can feel the head getting
bigger and harder too. Your rim's really flaring out
now."
	"Yours is too, Bill. Should I go a little faster?"
	"No, don't do that yet. I want to make you come
first, so I can watch you come. I want to watch your
face and feel your cock throb when you let go."
	"Okay, Bill, and then I'll make you come. Give me a
little more pressure right now." I felt his fingers
tighten around my penis, and he increased his pace,
heightening my excitement.
	"That's it Jack, just let me do the work. You can let
go of my cock, though. I don't want to come until
you're finished." I released Bill's prick, and he
pushed me flat on the bed. "That's it, that's it, just
relax and I'll make your cock shoot. Your balls are
really tight now, and I can see the head's darker
though the rubber."
	"You're makin' my rim tingle," I muttered as Bill's
magic fingers brought me closer to the brink.
	"Yes, and your whole head's gonna be tingling," he
said as he increased the pressure lightly through the
thin latex. I felt the insistent swelling in my prick
as my sensations mounted.
	"Any second," I whispered. "Any second..." Now a hot
tingling filled my entire helmet, and I knew that the
waves of orgasm would overtake me soon. Bill's fingers
gave a sudden twist around my corona, triggering my
orgasm. A hot spark shot through my helmet and down my
shaft, and I felt the thud-thud-thud of my climax
begin. My eyes closed.
	The first jet of hot semen exploded into my urethra,
driving up my prick like hot lava. The burning
sensation reached my glans as the gush of hot cream
erupted from my orifice into the condom, washing over
the head as Bill's fingers massaged it into my tender
tissues. I groaned loudly  and helplessly as the waves
of sensation filled my body. A second hot spasm
gripped my crotch, sending a second load of cream
rushing up my tube. I was crying out, oblivious to the
world outside my body as the entire focus of my
consciousness centered on my throbbing prick.
	I shuddered as the third discharge ripped through me,
again making me groan loudly. The fourth spasm was
weaker, and the last two were more dribbles that
crawled up my prick to ooze from my orifice. I lay
inert for a minute, stunned by the after-shock of my
orgasm, feeling my rampant hard prick subside, until
it lay limp on my stomach, awash in lubricant and my
juices. I reached for Bill's hand, bringing it to my
lips, and kissed it.
	"Man, you really blew a load there," I heard him say.
"I saw your eyes close as your started coming. I
didn't know you did that."
	"My eyes always close when I have a hot come," I
said. "Don't yours?"
	"No, my eyes stay open. Maybe I just don't come as
hard as you do. You really were into it."
	"Now it's your turn," I said. "Now you lie back and
relax, and let me bring you to orgasm." I clasped his
hard prick and began stroking the condom lightly over
his mushroom head, fingers following its contours and
tickling the nerve endings.
	"That's nice," he said as I continued stroking. "Just
run your fingers over my frenulum, and over the front
of the head." I did so, and felt him respond, the head
becoming harder under my fingertips, and he moaned
each time I stroked the taut gee-string under the
head.
	"You really came fast," he said as I kept caressing
his prick. "You were really excited." I continued to
stroke him, slightly increasing the pressure.
	"Yeah, this experience got me very excited. You got
me really excited, the way you were stroking me." I
snapped my thumb over the ridge on top of his glans
and heard him gasp.
	"Yeah, yeah, keep doin' that," he whispered. I
increased my pace, ensuring that his excitement
increased, and now his scrotum was drawn up tightly
against his body. It had relaxed slightly while he'd
been finishing me off.
	"I want to watch your face when you come," I said,
and his eyes met mine. I saw his jaw clench as waves
of sensation washed over his body, and I picked up the
pace even more.
	"My tip's not very sensitive," he said. "Good thing
you're going faster. Now do it a little harder." I
followed his lead, working my fingertips into the
triangular groove under his glans and snapping my
thumb over the hard ridge on top. I felt the heat of
the friction in my fingers, and knew that his hot
prick was about to explode.
	"AH-AH-AH!" he groaned as I brought him over the top.
His body shuddered hard as he released his sperm, and
I saw the muscles in his jaw and neck tighten. Bill
cried out again as his prick throbbed in my tightly
encircling fingers and spewed another load of cream
into the condom, which was beginning to fill.
	Bill moaned again, just as loudly, as he discharged
his third blast of cream into the latex, and I felt
its warmth through the thin membrane. Bill inhaled
sharply and groaned again as another discharge poured
into the condom. Now his prick wasn't throbbing as
hard, and the last few drops oozed from his tip.
	We lay side by side, our limp pricks on our stomachs,
as we held hands. We were both feeling very relaxed
from our orgasms, and it was a long time before either
of us spoke.
	"I really look forward to doing this again with you,"
I said.
	"Next time, I hope, it'll be with real skin on our
cocks instead of rubber," he replied.
	"Yeah, it'll take us maybe a couple of months to heal
up after the surgery, but I'll really enjoy having
skin over my head," I added.
	"Did the doctor tell you to keep your tip covered
with a condom to increase sensitivity?" he asked.
	"Yes he did," I replied. "I like that idea. I'm gonna
start tonight, in fact. Let's take a shower and then
put on the condoms. I've got the smaller size too, so
that they won't slip off while we're sleeping.
	"That sounds like a good idea," Bill said, and we got
up to take a shower. Inside, we languidly soaped each
other's bodies, carefully removing the condoms so as
not to spill the sticky liquids on our body hairs, and
after we'd dried each other we put on the condoms. I
had a bottle of water-based lubricant and squirted a
couple of drops into each sheath before we rolled them
onto each other's pricks.
	"I'd like you to stay with me tonight," I said. "I
know we're going to be seeing a lot of each other for
the next few months, at least, and I want to get used
to waking up and seeing your face on the pillow in the
morning." Bill leaned forward to plant a dry kiss on
my lips before we returned to the bedroom and got
under the covers.
	Next morning we awoke with piss-hard pricks, and in
the bathroom we removed the condoms before emptying
ourselves. As we were putting the condoms on our
softening pricks, Bill said:
	"I guess we'll have to get used to taking these off
and putting them back on each time we have to go."
	"Maybe not," I replied. "I'm going to buy the nippled
kind, and cut the tips of the nipples off so that I
can pee without removing the condom and still have
complete coverage."
	"Okay, I'll be interested in how that works out. That
seems more practical than taking it off each time."
	"I also might have to put a piece of tape around the
base to keep it from slipping off during the day, or
when I'm in bed. Without a hard-on, it's loose."
	"It's not too loose on me, Jack. You're a `Grower,'
and I'm a `Shower.' Your cock's small, and but both
get to about six inches when we get hard. I had to put
mine on again during the night because it fell off."
	"Mine was almost off when I woke up," I replied.
	"Are you hungry?" Bill asked me. "I'll spring for
breakfast." I realized that the previous evening's
activity had worked off a lot of calories, and I
accepted his offer. We dressed and went out for
breakfast, after which Bill went home.
	We had two more encounters before we went in for
surgery, and each time we met we compared notes on our
progress with the condoms. We saw that on each of us,
the glans was becoming smoother from being kept moist,
but we could not be sure that it was getting more
sensitive.
	Another preoccupation was how our operations would
go. At one point bill asked me:
	"Are you worried about the surgery, Jack?"
	"A bit, I guess. I just hope he does as good a job as
he promised. The only thing I'm sure of at this point
is that I won't feel a thing, because he said he'd use
general anesthesia."
	"He said that to me, too. I won't even feel a needle
stick, because the anesthesiologist uses gas. If he
were doing it with local, he'd be sticking needles in
all over. I'd hate to have needles stuck into my
cock."
	"That's probably the best part of it, the
anesthetic," I said. "Doctors didn't use to give
babies any anesthetic for circumcisions when we were
born. I'm sure it hurt like hell. We just don't
remember it."
	"Oh, I'm sure the damned doctor who did me didn't
give a crap. He just did it," Bill said. "Today a few
doctors give babies anesthesia before they cut them."
	The evening of the 2nd I checked into the hospital
and was shown to a semi-private room. The nurse gave
me a tranquilizer pill, and soon I was sleeping. Next
morning, Doctor Burton paid me a visit.
	"You'll be going into the operating room in a few
minutes. Do you feel okay?" I was actually tingling
with anticipation, impatient to have a new hood on my
penis.
	"I really can hardly wait, Doctor. I've been wanting
this all my life. I just want to be normal again."
"I'll do my best for you," he said. He smiled as he
left the room, and within minutes a nurse wheeled me
into the operating room on a gurney. I shifted myself
to the operating table, and as soon as I'd arranged
myself the anesthesiologist placed a mask over my face
and told me to breathe deeply. I did, and soon felt
the effects of the gas, making me woozy, and my last
thought as I slipped into a chemical coma was that I'd
wake up with a new penis.
I awoke in my room, slowly becoming aware of my
surroundings. I turned my head and saw Bill sitting in
a chair next to my bed.
"I checked in a little early so that I'd be here when
you woke up. I'll go down to the cafeteria and get
something to eat later before I undress and get into
bed. How are you feeling?"
"A bit weak," I replied. "That gas really took the
starch out of me. I can't wait to see the results."
Bill lifted the sheet to look, and I lifted my head.
"There's not much to see," he said, confirming what I
saw. "Your cock's wrapped in gauze, and so is a patch
of your right thigh where he took the skin."
	"I'm not surprised," I said. "I just wonder how long
he'll leave the bandages on." I reached for Bill's
hand and clasped it, feeling him return the pressure.
	"A few days," Bill said desultorily. "You feel any
pain in your penis?"
	"No, not at all," I replied. "I guess that's because
when he cut the skin loose he also cut the nerves. I
wonder if I'll get any feeling back in my new foreskin
or if it's gonna be numb the rest of my life?"
	"I asked him about that," Bill replied. "He said the
new foreskin will be numb for months, but that
probably you'd get some feeling back, but no
guarantees. You'll be able to jack off with it in
about a month or so."
	"I really look forward to that," I said. An idea
struck me. "Would you like to share my first
masturbation with my new foreskin? The very first
time, I mean. You should be healed about the same
time, so we could do each other like we did that night
we met." His eyes lit up as he replied:
	"Sure, I'd love to do that, share a first orgasm with
a foreskin with you." I moved my leg under the sheet
and winced.
	"My penis doesn't hurt at all, but my leg where he
took the skin is sore, like a bad burn."
	"Is it really bad? Want me to call the nurse? Maybe
she can give you an injection or a pain pill."
	"Oh, no, Bill. It's not that bad. I can stand it.
Anyway, are you going to get yourself some dinner
before getting into bed?"
	"Oh, yes, I'll have to do that. I don't think they'll
give me any breakfast tomorrow morning."
	"You're right," I said. "They didn't feed me this
morning, and the only food I'll have today is what
they bring me for dinner."
	"Okay, then, I'll go down to the hospital cafeteria
and see you in an hour or two." He left just as the
nurse brought my tray through the door. The food was
mediocre, but I wasn't really disappointed. I realized
that if you're looking for elegant dining, there are
three places to avoid: airlines, prisons, and
hospitals.
	Bill returned after I'd finished eating and he
undressed and put on the required hospital gown.
	"Are you apprehensive now?" I asked.
	"Of course, a little bit," he replied. "I think the
doc did a good job on you, but now I'll be going under
the knife, and it's my first time at this, so I am a
little antsy about it." At that moment the nurse came
in with a pill for each of us and soon we were asleep.
	Next morning I awoke before Bill, and went into the
attached bathroom to urinate. Fortunately, I sat down,
because the urine splattered as it came out of the end
of my new foreskin. I dabbed at it with a wad of
toilet paper and returned to bed. Bill was now awake.
	"They'll be taking me in soon," he said. "Wish me
luck."
	"I do, but luck has nothing to do with it. Doctor
Burton's pretty sharp, and I think he'll do a good job
on you too." The nurse brought in my breakfast and a
minute later wheeled Bill out of the room.
	I read a book until lunchtime, when a nurse wheeled
Bill back in. He was still unconscious, and I ate
while he slept. I didn't want to turn on the TV,
partly because most daytime TV is junk, but mainly to
avoid disturbing him. Doctor Burton came in after
lunch to examine my penis. He lifted it and
scrutinized the sutures at the end of the new hood.
	"It looks pretty good," he pronounced. "I won't be
able to see the rest of it until I remove the bandage,
and we won't be doing that for a few more days. Any
problem urinating?" I explained the splattering I'd
experienced, and he continued:
	"That's perfectly normal. When you're healed, you'll
be able to retract your foreskin to expose the meatus,
and you won't splatter anymore, but for now don't even
try to retract it because you don't want to disturb
the sutures. I used to put in a catheter after the
surgery, but I found it wasn't necessary as long as
the patient didn't try to retract his new foreskin.
Urine is sterile, anyway."
	"Did Bill's surgery go okay?" I asked.
	"Oh, yes, very well, in fact. It was easier working
on him because his penis is larger and he wasn't
circumcised as tightly as you. I had more to work
with. He still had his frenulum too. You don't, and
unfortunately I can't recreate the frenulum." I winced
at this, and he went on:
	"Don't worry too much about it. You'll end up a
thousand percent better than you were. Your glans will
become more sensitive, and you'll find that very
gratifying. All my other patients did. "I'll be back
tomorrow to check on Bill and you, but I think
everything will be all right." He left, and about an
hour later Bill came out of the anesthetic.
	"How did it go?" I asked him. He was still groggy,
but his thinking and speech were clear, and he said:
	"I think pretty much like yours. They took me into
the operating room, the anesthesiologist put the mask
on my face, and I was out. I don't feel any pain right
now." He reached under the sheet and added: "It's a
bit sore on the inside of my leg, where they took the
skin, but apart from that I'm okay."
	"We've got a lot to look forward to," I said to
encourage him.
	"I know we do. It's going to seem a long time until
we're both healed."
	The next morning Doctor Burton popped in and gave our
operations a once-over.
	"Things are going well," he said. "There's no sign of
inflammation or infection, and the sutures are holding
perfectly. I think I told you I'd be using very fine
sutures to minimize scarring, and right now it looks
like you're both healing well."
	"Thanks, doc," I said, and Bill nodded agreement.
	A few days later I was discharged from the hospital
after the doctor had performed a final examination,
removing the bandage and saying that my penis was
healing very well. The scars I saw were very fine, and
he assured me that the redness would fade over the
next couple of weeks.
	"Keep a condom on it from now on," he advised. "I've
found that scars heal better if they're kept moist.
Come to see me at the office next week, when I'll
remove any sutures that haven't already dissolved." I
got dressed and bid Bill goodbye, saying that I'd come
by the next day to drive him home.
	I got there the following day as Doctor Burton was
removing Bill's bandage. His penis looked very much
like mine, with a long foreskin tapering sensually
over the head and coming to a pucker in front. There
was a scar ring about two inches behind the head and a
straight scar up the underside where the doctor had
stitched the bottom of the skin graft. A line of fine
sutures followed the scar lines and around the end of
his foreskin where the inner and outer layers came
together, just as on my penis.
	"Well, Bill, you're ready to go," the doctor said.
"Let me take a look at yours while you're here, he
said, turning to me. I unzipped and showed it to him.
	"Hey, that's very nice. It looks better than
yesterday, and still no sign of inflammation. I'd say
you're healing perfectly." With this he left, and bill
got dressed. He signed out when the nurse brought him
the papers, and she took him downstairs and to the
front door in a wheelchair. I had pulled my car around
and he got in beside me.
	"Well, it's over," he breathed. He'd obviously been
under some tension, and I understood this, as I'd been
anxious about having someone take a knife to my penis
for the second time in my life.
	"I'll tell you what, Bill," I began. "I want you to
stay with me the next few days. Neither of us should
be alone right now." He turned to me and smiled.
	"That's nice of you, Jack, really nice. I know I'll
really enjoy staying with you."
	On the way home I stopped at a Chinese Restaurant and
ordered some take-out. Once home, we dug into it with
gusto, enjoying its marked contrast with the hospital
fare. Bill ate with even greater enthusiasm than I, as
I'd had dinner at a steak house the previous evening.
	"I can't believe it's over," he said over the table.
	"It's not over, Bill," I warned. "We still have a few
weeks to go before we're healed."
	"Well, you know what I mean. I mean the surgery is
over, and now it's just a matter of time. I don't
think we'll have any problems from now on."
	Well, Bill, the main problem I'll have is going to be
thinking about what it's going to be like after we're
all healed. I'm thinking of sex. You know that."
	"I do know that. I've been thinking the same thing
all this time. I'd better stop because if I get a
hard-on, I might pull the stitches. You, too."
	"Okay, let's stop thinking about sex. I'll fix us a
couple of drinks and we can watch a tape or read." We
got up and I threw the empty containers into the
trash. Next I put together glasses of bourbon on the
rocks, and we went into the living room, where we
watched a videotape of "Dirty Harry," a film we both
enjoyed, until we got sleepy and retired. I felt very
comfortable with Bill next to me in bed.
	Next morning we got up and went into the bathroom to
empty our bladders. I stood in front of the sink and
removed the condom, saying:
	"I'm gonna try skinning back a little bit. I think I
can do it just enough to clear the slit without
tearing it open." I carefully pulled back on my new
hood, watching the opening stretching against the
glans, until it opened enough so that I could see the
slit. I relaxed my sphincter as Bill watched my neat
clean stream arc into the sink.
	"I think I'll wait until tomorrow or the next day
before doing that. You had a day more than I did to
heal." He sat down on the toilet.
	After we'd showered and put on the condoms, I
prepared breakfast. We ate the scrambled eggs, hash
browns, and bacon eagerly, and then got dressed.
	"I'm going back to work Monday," I said. "How about
you?"
	"Monday for me too," he replied. "I'd told my boss I
was out to have a hernia fixed. What did you tell
yours?"
	"I didn't tell him anything specific, but I'll use
the hernia story in case anyone asks. I know I can't
tell anyone what I really had done."
	"Anyone but me," he laughed. "It's really a bitch
that we have to keep this under cover. People just
wouldn't understand."
	"Yeah, that burns my ass too. All we want is to be
like nature made us, and most people would think we're
freaks or crazy, or both."
	"That really pisses me off, too. At least we can
understand each other. I feel exactly the same way you
do." I reached across the table for his hand.
	"I appreciate that, Bill. I think sharing this
experience really bonded us." He gave my hand a
squeeze.
	"I know it has," he replied. "In one sense, we're
closer than brothers.
	"Yes, that's a nice way to think of you; as my
brother."
	"Remember what Shakespeare wrote in `Henry the
Fifth,' or Sixth, or whatever:
`We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.
For he who sheds his blood with me shall be my
brother.'"
	"I know what you mean," I said as tears came to my
eyes. "We're blood brothers."
	"Exactly," he said as he leaned across the table to
kiss me. I was filled with a very warm feeling towards
Bill, and he obviously felt the same about me.
	That weekend we went to see a museum, and drove to a
picnic area miles out of town, filling the time,
keeping relaxed, and learning more about each other. I
found out that like me, Bill had been married and
divorced, with no children. Unlike me, he'd had a
brother. I'd been an only child.
	"Does your brother feel the same way you do about
this?" I asked. Bill knew that "this" was, for he
answered:
	"No, he doesn't give it much thought. He just accepts
that he's been circumcised and doesn't worry about the
loss of sensitivity. He's five years younger, so I
guess it hasn't begun bothering him yet. He also seems
to be happily married."
	"Does he have any kids?"
	"Yes, he's got one boy, and yes, he had him
circumcised. I told him he shouldn't have it done but
it was like talking to a wall."
	"That's a damned shame, Bill. "I found most people
are that way. I've got friends who had kids, and they
never listened to me when I told them they shouldn't
have them clipped. The only ones I know who didn't
have their sons circumcised were those who had already
decided against it before I mentioned it."
	The following week we went in to Doctor Burton's
office together and the doctor had us both in the
examination room to remove whatever sutures hadn't
dissolved, which was most of them. I was first, and he
had me lie on the table after I'd dropped my pants.
The doctor carefully removed the condom and inspected
my penis.
	"You've healed well, I see. I'll just snip these
sutures and pull them out. It shouldn't hurt at all,
but you will feel a pulling sensation." I heard the
clicking sound of the fine scissors he was using, and
did feel a pulling sensation as he removed each
suture. It was tedious work because he'd used a lot of
sutures, as they were so fine. Bill watched with great
interest, because he was next. When he'd finished he
slipped the condom back over my penis and I stood up.
	"Okay, you're all done, Jack," said the doctor. "Just
leave the condom on for a couple more weeks until all
the redness disappears, and then you'll be fully
healed."
	"What about sex?" I asked.
	"You'll be ready for sex in a couple of weeks. It's
better to be careful than to risk irritating tissue
that's still healing." He turned to Bill, who was
already dropping his pants in anticipation.
	"Okay, your turn. Let's see how you're doing." Bill
had removed his condom, and now lay on the table. I
saw that his penis looked very much like mine, the new
hood bulging over the large glans and narrowing to a
neat pucker in front, with only a couple of red lines
showing where he'd been cut and stitched.
	"This is nice, really nice," the doctor remarked as
he began removing the sutures. Each suture left a tiny
red dot at the two pints it had penetrated the skin,
and the doctor assured him that the little dots would
be gone in a couple of days. The red lines would take
longer.
	"Now don't even try to retract your foreskins, either
of you, until the redness is fully gone. I can't
emphasize this too strongly. You don't want to risk
irritating tissue that's still healing. That would
only delay things. Believe me, it's worth the wait.
Meanwhile, keep the condoms on for at least two more
weeks." The doctor had been working as he'd spoken,
and now was almost finished.
	"Bill looks pretty good," I said as he removed the
last stitch.
	"You both look pretty good," the doctor replied.
"I've been refining my technique as I've gone along,
and you two are the 14th and 15th patients,
respectively. These are the best two foreskin
restorations I've performed."
	"You mean the next guys you do are going to get
better jobs than we did?" Bill asked.
	"Yes, that's so," the doctor laughed. "Of course, if
you'd wanted really superb restorations, you could
have waited a couple of years, when I would have had
even more practice at doing them."
	"No, I'm glad we had them done now," I said. "We
waited long enough to be whole again, and two more
years would have been hard." Bill nodded assent as I
spoke, and the doctor knew that I was speaking for us
both. Bill put the condom back over his penis and we
left after shaking hands with the doctor and thanking
him for what he'd done.
	"Hell, he got paid a lot for his work," Bill
commented as we walked out to my car. "Eight thousand
dollars each is a lot of money."
	"Yeah, but it costs nothing to be polite," I replied.
"Anyway, it's a good thing we're able to afford it.
Lots of cut guys who don't have that kind of money are
stuck with being cut for the rest of their lives."
Neither of us had any idea how wrong I was, as
restoration by stretching was still over the horizon.
	The days passed quickly, as we had our work to fill
the time, and two weeks later Bill came over on a
Friday afternoon. It had been five weeks since our
surgeries, and we were eager to compare and to try out
our new penises. I was already naked when he came in
the door and he stripped more quickly than I'd thought
possible.
	"I can still see the scars," he said as he removed
his condom. Mine was already off, and I'd rinsed the
lubricant from my penis and dried it before he'd
arrived.
	"So can I, but only because I know they're there and
I'm looking for them. I'd say he did a pretty good job
keeping the scars thin and almost invisible." We stood
facing each other, eyes fixed on each other's crotch.
	"Well, he's a plastic surgeon, not a butcher," Bill
said. "After all, that's what we paid him for." He
reached out for my penis, clasping it gently. I
grasped his with thumb and forefinger on either side
of the foreskin-covered glans.
	"Have you retracted your foreskin yet?" I asked.
	"No, you?"
	"I haven't either," I said. "I'd like you to be the
first to retract my new foreskin," I relied, my voice
husky. Bill began pushing back gently on my new hood
until the bulky front dome of my helmet appeared,
swelling rapidly.
	"Go ahead, you do mine too," he whispered. I pushed
his foreskin back towards his body, and stopped when
half of his mushroom was in view. I noticed a thin
film of white creamy-looking substance coating his
glans.
	"Man, that feels nice," I said. "The feeling of my
own foreskin sliding over my tip is just great, just
heavenly." Bill pushed my foreskin back the rest of
the way until it snapped down into the deep groove
behind my now fully swollen helmet.
	"Do you have any sensation in your foreskin?" he
asked.
	"No, not really, only in the inside layer. The
outside skin's pretty numb." I pushed his foreskin
back all the way, feeling the hood slide more easily
now that the core of his prick offered resistance,
until I'd totally bared his purplish-pink mushroom.
"How's the sensation in yours?" I continued.
	"Pretty much like yours, Jack. The outer layer had
all the nerves cut, and I don't feel a thing. The
inner skin's still attached, and I can feel something
there."
	"My main sensation's in my glans," I said. "How does
yours feel?"
	"I think it's more sensitive, and I certainly felt
the pressure of your fingers through the skin as you
slid the hood back." We were now fully hard, our tips
swollen and angry, mine a bit deeper purple than his.
	"One big change, though, is that both our tips look
so glossy and smooth now. Remember how dry and
leathery they looked?" he asked.
	"I really do. Anyway, I think we've both got a lot to
be thankful for, and we ought to celebrate."
	"I know exactly what you mean by `celebrate' and I
think it's a good idea. I want you to be the first to
stroke my new foreskin so that I get an orgasm."
	"And you do me after I've made you drop your load," I
said as I began stroking his new foreskin in long,
sensual strokes over his swollen hardness.
	"Damn, that feels so good," he said as I pushed him
gently down on a kitchen chair and grabbed some paper
towels.
	"Any preference where we do it?" I asked as I
continued stroking his prick, marveling at the beauty
of a foreskin gliding over the swollen glans.
	"No, as long as it's your hand doing it," he replied.
As I continued to stroke his prick gently, the white
coating began to curdle in small clumps as it dried. I
poured a couple of drops of baby oil on his glans to
maintain the lubrication and avoid irritating it.
	"You've got smegma," I commented.
	"Yes, and I noticed that yours doesn't seem to
produce any smegma. I think that's because of the way
the doctor who circumcised you cut you. He didn't
leave you any inner layer, and that's what produces
the cheese."
	"Yeah, I think you're right. Anyway, it means I won't
have to clean it as much as you will. Still, I wish I
had smegma. It's more natural." Bill leaned over to
sniff my penis.
	"Maybe you're producing a little," he said. "I can
smell your cock, and it's definitely got that
masculine odor."
	"Let me smell yours," I said as I leaned over to
inhale the fragrance emanating from his prick.
	"How is it?" he asked.
	"I like it, really like it," I replied. "Damn, you're
lucky not to have been butchered the way I was." I
tugged Bill's foreskin all the way back, and the
tension on his frenulum made the front of the head dip
slightly.
	"Ooooohhh, that feels good," he grunted, the
sharpness of the sensation shocking him.
	"I'm glad you've still got your gee-string," I said
as I gave his foreskin another gentle tug down to
tense his frenulum again. A large drop of clear fluid
filled his oval orifice as his scrotum tightened
against his body. Bill was gasping now, overwhelmed by
the new and different sensations he was feeling in his
prick. His tip got darker, and I knew that his
excitement was reaching its peak.
	"I'm gonna come," he whispered as I pulled his
foreskin up over the hard, swollen head.
	"I know, Bill. Your tip's darker, and I can feel how
hard it is through the skin." I pulled his foreskin
all the way down in a long, sweeping motion to bare
the purple mushroom completely and make it dip again
as I put tension on his frenulum. His hips bucked and
he grunted loudly as a long stream of white cream
erupted from his straining tip. His legs shot straight
out, responding to the massive stimulation, and I felt
his prick throb again as he shot another thick stream
onto the kitchen floor.
	Bill was moaning helplessly as I stroked his foreskin
up over the swollen knob, giving him the sensations
for which he'd longed all of his life. I felt the
powerful throbs through the covering skin as his prick
erupted again, sending a jet arcing into the air in a
trajectory that ended on the kitchen floor. Now I
wasn't even trying to catch his cream in the paper
towels, as I was all caught up in pleasuring his
prick. I felt another throb and watched yet another
jet slam through the lips of his slit as he moaned
again. His eyes had been fixed on his prick but now
they were shut.
	I sensed that his orgasm was coming to an end and I
eased up on my strokes, as I knew that the glans
becomes more sensitive at the end of the orgasm.
Bill's prick was now dribbling, and the throbs were
softer and weaker. Bill took a deep breath and his
body relaxed as I drew his foreskin fully forward to
protect the precious head and watched his penis begin
to soften. Fluid still dribbled from the end, wetting
the pucker of his foreskin, and I dabbed at it gently
to catch each drop.
	Bill sat stunned by the force of his orgasm, and I
busied myself wiping his fluids from the kitchen
tiles. I wanted to let him enjoy the blissful
afterglow as long as necessary, and waited patiently
until he'd recovered enough to speak:
	"Wow, that was wonderful. It's hard to believe that
you stroked me with my own foreskin. That felt better
than any orgasm I remember."
	"I loved doing it to you, Bill. I loved watching you
get high on the sensations, and the way your prick
swelled as I was stroking your foreskin. The big
mushroom head got all dark and hard just before it
started throbbing and shooting."
	"Those throbs went all through my body," he said. "I
felt them right down to my toes."
	"I felt them through your foreskin," I said. "I felt
the ridge of your big mushroom throbbing too. Your
shaft was throbbing, and you were moaning while you
were shooting."
	"Oh, I was really out of it, you know. All I knew was
those wonderful sensations in my cock, and your warm
hand around it."
	"That was quite a show," I said. "How does your prick
feel now, sore or anything?"
	"No, not at all. It was kinda sensitive right after I
came, but now with the skin pulled down over the head,
it feels just fine. Yours is soft, though."
	"Yeah, I guess my excitement faded after you came. I
cleaned up the spilled cream while waiting for you to
come to."
	"Well, we'll have to get you pumped up again. I want
to stroke your skin and make your cock shoot like you
did mine." He reached for my penis and began squeezing
the head, and we watched it engorge quickly to full
hardness.
	"I love the feel of your hand on my prick," I said as
Bill slipped my foreskin up and down the swollen
helmet, sending hot sparks of sensation stabbing
deeply into my glans.
	"I think you're gonna come fast," he said as he
continued his deliberate but firm strokes on my
foreskin.
	"I'm already primed from having made you come," I
replied. "My prick was soft but I was ready for a
quick orgasm." His fingers tightened slightly around
my penis as he picked up the pace.
	"Tell me if this is all right for you," he said. "I
want to make you explode when you come." His fingers
continued their maddening excursions along my penis,
making it swell to full hardness, as my scrotum
contracted against my body.
	"Good, very good..." I trailed off, caught up in the
sensations as Bill's eager fingers worked on my penis,
sliding the new foreskin in delicious strokes over the
hard, swollen helmet.
	"Man, your cock-head's so big and hard, I can feel it
through the skin. It's gotten darker purple, too. I
think you'll be losing your load any second now."
	"I--I," I whispered.
	"It's all right, don't try to talk, Jack. Just relax
and concentrate on how good your cock feels. Let me do
the work," he urged. My arms dropped to my sides, and
my legs were spread apart, giving him lots of room to
work as he built up my excitement.
	"Your tip's oozing lube now," he commented as his
encircling fingers continued to stimulate me. "It's
making your cock-head very wet. I moaned as my
sensations mounted.
	"Now let's try this," he said as I felt him draw my
foreskin all the way back. I saw him run the tip of
his left index finger around my rim as my eyes closed,
and the sensation was a sudden shock, reaching deep
down into my cock-root. I felt a sharp contraction
deep inside me, and the hot tickling feeling as the
first jet spurted into my urethra.
	I cried out loudly as the thick hot stream burned its
way up my shaft and into the curve of the glans. My
chest heaved and my hips bucked at the heavy discharge
poured from the dilated orifice at the front of my
helmet. My legs were trembling and I was totally
helpless as Bill's encircling fingers stroked my
foreskin forward over burning nerve endings to make my
prick shoot again. The second jet seared its way up my
tube and slammed through the lips of my teardrop slit
as I cried out in blissful agony.
	My awareness of the outside world had faded as my
consciousness had become totally absorbed by the hot
sensations in my groin, and now I was floating, unable
to focus on anything except the next hot thrill in my
cock-root. I shuddered as another thick spurt of cream
gushed up my penis and out the end, making me moan in
ecstasy. The nerve endings in my glans tingled as the
smooth foreskin slid over them, bringing on another
convulsion deep inside me, followed by the gush of hot
lava that thrilled me as it burned its way up my hard,
throbbing penis.
	The next spasm was weaker, followed by one that was
weaker yet, as I began to come down off the high. I
was still moaning, caught up in the rapturous
sensations, but my brain was starting to function
again, emerging from the fog of orgasm. Bill's fingers
brought my foreskin up to fully encase the
still-throbbing helmet, gently squeezing it through
the thick fleshy sleeve. Now I was utterly still, and
stunned by the after-effects of my discharge.
	I opened my eyes after a couple of minutes to see
Bill wiping my creamy drops off the kitchen floor. He
looked up at me and smiled.
	"You had a really hot one," he remarked. "I thought
it was more intense than before the surgery. Your tip
more sensitive?"
	"I'm not sure, Bill. I was already so hot from doing
you that I was ready to cream in seconds."
	"Well, some say that the gain in sensitivity is just
psychological, but whatever it is, I'm glad I've got
my foreskin back. I know you are, too."
	"You're right, Bill. Just the thought of being
stroked off with my own foreskin got me hot. I've got
a whole prick again, after over 40 years."
	"Same here. That new foreskin's wildly stimulating to
me, and playing with yours added more to it."
	We had several more mutual stroking sessions over the
next few weeks, each as wonderful as the others. Then
we were separated for a few days while Bill was out of
town on business. When he returned, I had something
exciting to tell him and I was very eager to get
started:
	"Remember we were talking about whether the increase
in sensitivity was physical or psychological?" I asked
him as he sat next to me on the couch. "Well, while
you were gone, something happened. I was in bed one
night, and I turned over. I was barely half-awake when
I rolled over and my prick got pushed against the bed.
My foreskin got pushed back, and suddenly I had a
feeling of tenderness in the glans that brought me
wide-awake."
	"It was that intense?" he asked, his eyes fixed on my
face.
	"Yes, it was very intense. Now remember that for over
40 years my glans had been rubbing against bed sheets,
clothing, etc., but this was different. When my
foreskin got pushed back, and my naked glans touched
the sheet, I was half asleep. This definitely wasn't a
sexual situation, but it felt really sensitive, much
more so than when I didn't have a foreskin protecting
it and keeping it moist."
	"That seems pretty definite, then. You've had a real
increase in sensitivity, not a psychological one."
	"That's right, Bill. This wasn't a sexual situation.
I was half asleep anyway, yet I felt a real feeling of
tenderness when my tip touched the sheet."
	"Then my feeling that I've gotten more sensitivity
isn't just my imagination. This is really good news,
Jack." Bill was as excited as I was, and I understood
why.
	"We ought to tell Dr. Burton about this," I said. "I
think he'd really like to know. I'm gonna call him
tomorrow."
	The following day I took a few minutes off from work
to phone the good doctor, and I got through to him
without having to run the gauntlet of receptionists
and secretaries, as he was pretty good about answering
the phone himself when he wasn't in the operating
room.
	"I've got some good news for you," I began, and then
proceeded to tell him about the incident when I'd
rolled over in bed.
	"This is really good news, and it's fortunate that
you phoned me just now. I'll be seeing another patient
who wants a foreskin restoration in a few minutes and
the last time I saw him he was very doubtful that it
was possible to gain sensitivity by keeping the glans
covered. Can I give him your phone number so that he
can get in touch with you?" I agreed and gave him my
number. He told me to expect a call from Mark, his
patient.
	That evening there was a message from Mark on my
answering machine when I got home from work, and I
returned his call immediately.
	"I understand you're not sure you'll get any
sensitivity back after the surgery," I said after I'd
introduced myself.
	"I can't understand how that can be," he said. "I was
cut as a baby and my glans has been uncovered all
these years. It's all dried out, with a texture like
shoe leather, and I know for sure the nerve endings
are deadened."
	"My buddy Bill and I were also cut as babies," I
explained, "and we also had the same loss of sensation
you've had. We found it hard to believe, especially
because some people said that any increase in
sensitivity was imaginary, the result of our being
excited by having foreskins on our pricks." I went on
to tell him about my experience in bed, and invited
him to come to see both Bill and me the following
evening. Fortunately, he lived only a few miles away,
unlike many of Dr. Burton's patients who flew in from
out of town. Mark agreed, and I told him that he could
come over right after work, as I'd have a pizza
delivered. When Bill arrived a few minutes later, I
told him of the day's events, and he seemed as eager
as I was to tell Mark of our experiences.
	The following evening Mark and Bill arrived right at
six, and a minute later the pizza delivery man showed
up with a large combination pie. As we sat munching
the pizza slices, washing them down with Pepsi, Mark
plied us with questions:
	"How long has it been since you had your surgery?" We
explained to him that it had now been five months, and
that we'd had our surgeries a day apart.
	"How badly were you cut? I was cut really tight, and
I've got absolutely nothing left." I explained that,
although Bill had not been cut as tightly as I'd been,
the circumcision had left him with a jagged scar,
although he hadn`t lost his frenulum as I had.
	"Did the plastic surgery leave you with bad scars?"
he asked.
	"Well, any surgery leaves scars, but I don't think
ours are bad at all. At least they're not as
noticeable as the original circumcisions. Doctor
Burton did a careful job suturing us, and the best way
of you to judge this is by taking a look," I said.
Mark nodded and I unzipped to show him.
	"That doesn't look too bad," he said as he
scrutinized my penis. Can I see Bill's?" Bill unzipped
and Mark inspected his penis. As Mark looked closely,
Bill began retracting his new foreskin.
	"This is the best part," he said as he bared his
glans for Mark to view. "Mine used to be dry and
leathery, just like you told us yours is. Now look at
it. See how smooth and glossy it is? This is only
since the surgery. Why don't you take yours out and
you can compare directly?" Mark hesitated only a
second before unzipping and producing his penis.
	"Mine's not as big as Bill's," he said, almost
apologetically. 	Mark's penis was about the size of
mine, limp, and had a large helmet-shaped head very
much like mine. About half an inch behind the corona
was a thick brown scar, perfectly circular, that rose
above the surrounding shaft-skin.
	"Looks like you were done with a Gomco," I remarked.
"That usually leaves a thick scar like that. Unless
the doctor's really ham-handed, it's fairly neat and
circular, and it leaves the frenulum too. You were cut
tightly, but do you still have your frenulum?" Mark
lifted his penis to show us the underside, and we saw
that he did have a thick frenulum filling the
triangular groove under the head where the two sides
of the corona sweep down to meet in a thin weld line.
	"Yours was done like mine," Bill said. "You're lucky
to still have your gee-string. The butcher who did
Jack removed his."
	"Yes, and it's pretty sensitive," Mark said. "It's
more sensitive than the head, I think."
	"You'd still like to have a foreskin over the head,"
I said.
	"Oh, yes!" Mark said. "I think having a foreskin's
really neat! I've had sex with some uncut guys when I
was in Europe, and really enjoyed playing with their
foreskins. I was green with envy all the time. Even
looking at one gets me hot." Mark's penis had begun to
engorge as he spoke, with his eyes fixed avidly on our
pricks, and it was clear that the sight of our
foreskins was exciting him.
	"We felt the same way, Mark," I said. "We both wanted
to be the way nature made us. We really enjoy playing
with our new foreskins now, and we've gotten off
together a few times since our surgeries."
	"I guess you're finding out what masturbation the
natural way is like," Mark suggested. "It's really
different and you'll enjoy finding out about the
different things you can do when you've got a
foreskin." The sex talk was getting us all excited,
and I decided that we might as well make the most of
the situation:
	"Look, let's all get undressed and experiment a
little." We stripped off our clothing in less than a
minute and stood facing each other, erections pointing
toward the center. Mark's penis was a grower, like
mine, and his erection was about the same length as
mine, the naked purple glans standing dry and exposed
ahead of his straight shaft. The orifice at the end
formed an oval, lips gaping with excitement.
	"He's got a helmet shape just like yours," Bill
remarked. "We're all about six inches hard, though."
	"Your penis will look a lot like mine after Dr.
Burton puts a new foreskin on it. Just tell him that
you want enough to cover the head even when you're
hard."
	"I'd like to see how sensitive your penis really is
now that you've had the head covered for a few
months," Mark said. "I've had a little experience
playing with guys' foreskins in Europe, and I learned
a few techniques that can be really exciting. Can I
try one on you?" he asked, looking right at me.
	"Go ahead, but maybe Bill would like a demonstration
too."
	"If you enjoy it, I'll do the same for him," he
replied. "This is something you can do only to guys
who have foreskins long enough to cover the head."
Mark placed his palms around my penis, one underneath
and the other over it, and began moving his palms in
opposite directions, twisting my foreskin around the
glans.
	"That feels good," I murmured, "really good."
	"This stretches the nerve endings in the skin and
where it's attached," Mark said as he began to move
his hands more quickly. I felt the deep-seated nerve
endings in my prick responding, and said to Bill:
	"You'd better get some paper towels. I think I'll be
coming pretty soon."
	"Sit down, too," Mark suggested. "You're going to
have such an intense orgasm your legs will buckle." I
sat down on the couch while Mark sat next to me, his
hands working their magic on my newly-foreskinned
prick. The sideways friction over the glans and around
my corona was bringing me to the peak quickly, and now
he increased the pace. My eyes closed, shutting out
the world as I withdrew into myself, my mind totally
focused on the intense sensations in my prick.
	"I can see the head getting darker," Mark commented
as his hands continued caressing my prick intensively.
"I can feel the head getting harder inside his skin."
By now I was rushing headlong toward the brink, and my
breathing had deepened as I grunted with the hot shots
of sensation he was pouring into my prick. I spread my
legs and let the sensations wash over me as I drifted
into the mind-numbing limbo of orgasm.
	A hot spasm shot through my cock-root and I felt the
first burning hot jet gushing up through my prick to
erupts from the straining helmet. I grunted loudly, my
prick helpless in Mark's hands, as he tore another
ejaculation from me. I moaned loudly as another
burning hot jet seared its way through my prick, and I
felt my glans throbbing as hard as my cock-root as the
heavenly sensations shot through me.
	I heard Mark say something indistinct as another
copious gush poured from my hot hard helmet, and then
another. The next eruptions were somewhat weaker, and
suddenly Mark stopped twisting my foreskin. I
collapsed into the couch, exhausted, totally spent,
stunned by the violence of this orgasm, the most
intense I'd had in my life.
	"I stopped because uncut guys get super-sensitive
after they've come," Mark said. I can see that he did
regain a lot of sensitivity, the way he shot."
	"I saw that too. He shot almost two feet into the
air," Bill said. "I caught it in the paper towels, and
I can see it was a hell of a load."
	"Did you ever see him shoot that much?" Mark asked.
	"No, not even the first time we did each other after
our surgeries had healed," Bill replied. "This was
outstanding." I opened my eyes.
	"That was outstanding," I said weakly. "You really
pulled the orgasm from me, and it was so quick, too."
	"Well, that's one of the techniques you can use when
you've got a foreskin," he said. European guys do this
quite a lot, since they've all got foreskins over
there."
	"It's a real bummer the way they cut American kids,"
I said. "If I'd been born in Europe I wouldn't have
had to go through all this to be the way nature made
me."
	"How about you, Bill?" Mark asked. "You've still got
your frenulum, so you'll feel it even more intensely
than Jack did." I got up to make room for Bill, taking
the soaked paper towels from his hands and going to
the kitchen for more. When I returned, seconds later,
Bill was on the couch, hips thrust forward, while Mark
performed the same palm-twisting stroke on his penis.
This time Bill's eyes were closed, and I knew he was
caught up in the intensity of the sensations pouring
into his penis.
	Mark was twisting his foreskin first one way and then
the other, and the front dome of his glans was
exposed. Bill was leaking lubricant copiously, and
Mark's rapid motions were spreading the clear fluid
between his glans and rapidly-rotating foreskin. Mark
was concentrating his gaze on Bills penis, and I knelt
between Bill's legs with the paper towels ready to
catch his eruptions. I watched Bill's glans darken as
Mark worked on his penis, and heard Bill grunting as
the flood of sensations fueled his fire.
	Now Bill cried out loudly and I saw a thick rope of
white cream shoot from the lips of his meatus, arcing
high into the air. I caught the flood in the paper
towels as Bill's hips bucked and his straining prick
shot again. His jets went almost two feet into the air
before falling back onto the paper towels, and now I
watched his throbbing prick send another eruption high
into the air.
	I saw another hot jet shoot from Bill's hole and I
caught it again with the paper towels. Now Mark had
slowed his pace, and Bill's prick began dribbling, the
thick white fluid overflowing the edges of his
foreskin and running down onto Mark's hands. Finally,
the flow stopped and Bill relaxed, his breathing
returning to normal.
	"He came even faster than you did," Mark said. "Maybe
he was already pretty excited from watching me make
you come, or maybe it's because he's still got a
gee-string. Twisting his foreskin stretched his
frenulum too, and that side-to-side motion is really
hot."
	"Well, you really made him come," I complimented
Mark.
	"That technique works very well with anyone who's got
a foreskin," Mark explained. "Even if he didn't want
to come, I'd be able to get him hard and make him
shoot within a minute or two."
	"Even a reconstructed foreskin," I added.
	"Can we make you come?" asked Bill. "After all, you
gave us a couple of really hot orgasms, and I'd like
to return the favor. How about you, Jack?" There was
only one answer possible:
	"Yes."
	"I need lubricant to get off," Mark said. He smiled
shyly and added: "I brought a bottle of baby oil just
in case. I thought we might wind up experimenting on
each other."
	"I'm glad you did," I replied. "All I've got here is
an old bottle of Jergen's Lotion. It's probably all
dried out by now. I haven't used it for a long time."
	Mark dug a small bottle of Johnson's Baby Oil out of
his coat pocket and handed it to me. I uncapped it and
poured a few drops onto his helmet, spreading it
slowly with my fingertips. Mark closed his eyes, an
expression of what seemed like ecstasy coming over his
face.
	"I'll get more paper towels," Bill said as he moved
off to the kitchen.
	"Now you just relax," I said. "Just as you've had a
lot of experience handling pricks with foreskins, I've
had a lot of experience working a circumcised one.
Until a few months ago, mine was like yours." At this
point Bill returned, a wad of absorbent paper in his
hand, prepared to catch Mark's ejaculation.
	"I guess you know what makes a cut cock tingle," Mark
said. "Did you use that twisting stroke on your cock?"
	"I know just what you mean," I replied as I grasped
his erection with my full fist and began the familiar
up-and-twist stroke over his helmet. "I did it to
myself more times than I can remember." As I stroked I
felt Mark's prick respond.
	"His tip's turning darker," Bill commented.
	"It's getting harder, too," I added as I tightened my
grip slightly and stepped up the pace.
	"Ohhhhh," Mark moaned as he felt the sensations
intensifying in his penis. The friction produced heat,
and Mark's prick felt hot in my hand.
	"I think you're gonna come soon," I said. "You're
already primed by the experience jacking our pricks."
	"I am, I am," he moaned as his eyes closed.
	"Now just try to stay relaxed," I urged. "Don't
tighten up, although you probably did when you jacked
yourself. It'll take you longer to come, but believe
me, the orgasm will be more intense with a longer
build-up." Bill cupped Mark's scrotum with his free
hand, the other remaining poised to intercept the
ejaculation with the bunched paper towels.
	"My tip's tingling," Mark moaned. I felt the hardness
of his ridge as my fingers rode over it, and knew that
he was close to the release point. Now I saw his eyes
close. I tightened my grip and stroked his faster,
wanting to bring him to the brink.
	A drop of clear fluid seeped from the orifice in his
helmet, and I slackened my grip and slowed my
stroking. I knew he was near the edge, and wanted to
keep him there as long as I could to prolong the
anticipation. Mark's legs spread widely and I noticed
a slight tremor as his excitement built.
	"Steady now, Mark," Bill's voice urged as he kneaded
Mark's balls gently to add to the excitement. Another
drop of clear fluid seeped from his orifice, mixing
with the baby oil.
	"HAH! HAH! HAH!" Mark bellowed as the hot wave of his
orgasm overtook him. I felt his hot prick throb
between my fingers and then a thick rope of cream
spurted from the end of his prick. Bill caught it and
Mark bellowed again, vocalizing the delicious agony in
his groin.
	I felt another hard throb that ran along his shaft
all the way up to the glans as he shot another heavy
load, and smelled the characteristic chlorine odor of
sperm as his life-juice erupted from his gaping
orifice. Mark yelped again and another jet shot from
the gaping oval hole at the end of his throbbing
helmet. I gave his prick another hard twist, my
encircling fingers sliding over his engorged glans,
and this brought another throbbing ejaculation.
	"He's shooting hard," Bill commented. He's shooting
at least six inches each time."
	"He might be shooting even harder after he has his
surgery," I added. Mark's prick throbbed again,
sending another jet arcing into the paper towels Bill
was holding in front of him. Now his throbs were
weaker, and the jets less explosive, and I knew his
orgasm was winding down. I slowed my strokes, and soon
Mark's penis was still, drained by the effort of his
orgasm. We all remained silent for a couple of minutes
while Mark recovered from the daze that inevitably
follows climax.
	"Wow, that was super," he said softly as he opened
his eyes. "I haven't had such an intense orgasm since
my first time, when I was 13."
	"You always remember the first time," Bill said.
	"Yes, and I'm sure you'll remember this one too," I
contributed. "I know Bill and I will." I squeezed
Mark's hand.
	Mark's surgery was scheduled for the following week,
and Bill and I went to see him in the hospital the
evening he'd checked in. He was going to be in surgery
in the morning.
	"Are you at all nervous about this?" I asked, knowing
that if he was honest with us, he'd confess to at
least some apprehension. Bill and I had been a bit
anxious before our operations.
	"You bet I am," he said. "I still can't quite believe
that tomorrow I'm finally going to have a foreskin on
my cock. I'm so afraid that I'll wake up and find this
all a dream." I squeezed his hand.
	"We both felt this way, Mark. We were both worried
about how it would turn out, and if it was all real.
As you saw, it's real, and it turns out pretty well."
	"Have you been keeping your tip covered?" Bill asked.
	"Yes I have, but I can't feel any more sensitivity,"
Mark replied. He pulled back the sheet to expose his
nether region, and we saw that he had a condom taped
in place on his limp penis.
	"A week isn't long enough to get much," I said. "I
felt a real difference after several months."
	"Same here, but it's a good thing you started. That
gives you a week's head start," added Bill. Mark
started to laugh.
	"What's funny?" I asked.
	"I just thought of what's gonna happen if I forget to
take this off before they bring me to the operating
room," answered Mark. "Can you imagine me under
anesthesia on the table, and the nurse pulls back the
sheet and sees this?"
	"No big deal," I said. "Doctor Burton's gonna be
there, and you're just following his instructions."
	"Anyway, we'll be back tomorrow afternoon, when
you're awake," said Bill. We shook hands all round and
Bill and I left.
	"I hope he sleeps well tonight," I commented as we
left the hospital."
	"That's no problem," said Bill. "Remember they gave
us sleeping pills the night before?"
	"Yeah, you're right. I know I slept well then."
	The following afternoon it wasn't until five when we
arrived after getting off work. Mark was wide awake
then, and welcomed us:
	"Hi guys, glad you're here. The doc left just five
minutes ago, and he told me everything went just
fine." He pulled back his sheet and we saw his penis
wrapped in gauze, as was an area on the inside of his
left thigh where the doctor had taken skin to graft
into a new foreskin.
	"One thing's sure," I commented. The skin on your
thigh's the same color as the skin on your shaft.
It'll be a very close match."
	"Why shouldn't it be?" asked Mark.
	"Well, I heard of another plastic surgeon who uses
skin from the scrotum. That doesn't match the shaft
skin at all, in color or texture, and scrotal skin is
hairy, anyway." I had heard horror stories about this
other plastic surgeon, but I didn't want to repeat
them to Mark.
	"Burton told me I'd heal especially well," Mark said.
"He pointed out where I'd had my appendix removed, and
said the scar there was hardly visible. He said in a
couple of years nobody would be able to see the scars
on my cock unless they were looking for them."
	"I think that's pretty true," said Bill. "You saw our
cocks. Our scars aren't bad at all."
	"Burton told me that he'd used a lot of skin from my
thigh because I'd told him I wanted an extra long
foreskin. I asked him for at least an inch overhang
when soft, and he said he could do it."
	"I'm sure you'll get that much," I said, "and maybe
even more. Maybe you can stretch it after it heals,
pull on it each time you take a pee to make it
longer."
	"I can't wait to get this bandage off and see how it
looks," Mark said. "I can barely believe it's real,
and I want to see it for myself."
	"Well, you'll have that bandage off in a few days,
but you can see part of it even now. See how he left
the very end uncovered so you can pee? That's the
overhang right there. You've got about an inch nipple
on your new foreskin right now," I explained.
	"Another thing I really look forward to is my first
orgasm. I'd really appreciate it if you two were with
me," Mark said fervently. Bill and I grasped Mark's
hands and Bill said:
	"We wouldn't miss it for the world. We both know what
a special moment that's gonna be for you, like it was
for us."
	"It'll really be a sexual rebirth," I added. "That's
what it was for me, in every sense of the word, and
I'm sure it was for Bill too."
	"Oh, yes, that's exactly what it was for me,"
confirmed Bill."
	"Now we'll be back to see you tomorrow," I said.
"We'll see you through this, all the way." I had tears
in my eyes when I'd finished. Mark squeezed my hand
hard.
	"I'm so glad I met you guys," he said, choking up.
"It would have been so much harder without you." We
left then, and went home.
	The next afternoon we arrived at Mark's room just as
he was going into the bathroom to pee. He waved us in
with him and pulled his penis out from under the gown.
It was still bandaged and only the tip of the foreskin
peeped out from the gauze. We could see the circle of
tiny sutures around the circumference, where the
inverted shaft skin and the newly grafted skin from
his thigh met.
	"I'm surprised," Mark said as he aimed his penis into
the sink. "I'd thought that piss on an open wound
would sting, but it doesn't."
	"It didn't sting for us, either," Bill said.
	"I know that when my sister had her boy circumcised
when he was born, he'd cry every time he wet his
diaper. I guess the cut line had a lot of nerve
endings."
	"Well, the nerves have been cut on that graft," I
explained. "It was the same with us. We don't have
much feeling in our new foreskins." Mark's stream
splattered into the sink, deflected by his long
foreskin nipple. He patted himself dry with a wad of
toilet paper, and we went back into the room, where he
lay back on his bed.
	"Think we'll ever get any sensation in our new
skins?" he asked, looking alternately at Bill and me.
Bill answered:
	"I'm not sure if we'll ever get full feeling back,
but I can feel a little when I touch it. It's not
erotic, like when I touch the head."
	"It's the same with me," I added. "I can barely feel
a touch."
	"Well, I can't wait now to get the bandage off and
for it to heal. I want to whack off with my new cock
so bad I can almost taste it." Bill and I couldn't
help laughing at Mark's unwitting metaphor.
	"We'll celebrate together," Bill said, leaning
forward to pat Mark on the knee. "I know Jack and me
really enjoyed our first orgasms together."
	"Sexual rebirth," Mark intoned, a dreamy look on his
face. "I've got so many years of being circumcised to
make up for."
	"We all do, Mark," I said. "Bill and I are working on
it as fast as we can." This made us all laugh.
	"Well, Burton said he'd remove the bandage tomorrow
and that if everything checked out I could leave. I've
got to wear a condom over my cock until it's fully
healed, though."
	"We did that too," I said. "Incisions heal better and
faster when they're wet.
	"I was his 15th patient," Mark said.
	"No wonder he did such a good job on you," I said.
"He's got more experience now. Yours should be better
than ours." I got up to leave.
	"We'll see you tomorrow," Bill said.
	Next day I got a call from Mark saying that he'd be
leaving the hospital that afternoon. I called Bill and
we left work early to go pick him up, and then we
brought him to my place.
	"We figured you'd be better off if you weren't alone
this evening," Bill explained on the trip home.
	"It was very comforting to have each other's company
when we had our operations," I added. "We'll have
something to eat and then you can have the spare
bedroom. Bill and I will sleep together."
	Once inside, we were eager to examine Mark's penis
without the bandage. It was very visible through the
translucent latex of the condom.
	"He did a really good job on you," Bill exclaimed as
he gazed at the newly remodeled penis.
	"He did a perfectly job of shaping your foreskin to
the contours of your helmet," I added.
	"That nipple at the end looks just perfect," said
Bill. "It's about an inch long, and might get even
longer if you stretch it."
	"I just wonder if I'll be able to get it back from
the head," Mark worried. "I've got a big head, and the
skin's gonna have to stretch a lot to go back over
it."
	"Both Bill and I were able to retract once we were
healed," I said. "In fact, that's gonna be a pretty
dramatic moment, watching you skin back to see the
head for the first time."
	"We'd better stop talking about this," Mark said.
"This is getting me hot, and I don't want to get an
erection right now."
	"You're right," I counseled. "We had to be careful
while our pricks were healing." We watched a movie on
TV and then went to bed. Bill cuddled up to me and
said:
	"I think he's gonna be really pleased with his
results."
	"I think so too," I replied. "I really envy him.
Burton did a fantastic job."
	Three weeks later Mark arrived at my place at six.
He'd been to see the doctor for a final check-up and
Doctor Burton had pronounced him fit to do whatever he
wished with his new penis, although he advised being
careful trying new techniques and sensations. We were
so filled with anticipation that we didn't even think
of eating as Mark came in and began undressing
hurriedly. Bill and I had already removed all our
clothing except for our boxer shorts, and we doffed
these within seconds.
	"Well, how do you like it?" Mark asked as he dropped
his boxers. His penis dangled in front of his scrotum,
and the area on his thigh from which the graft had
come was totally healed. The nipple of his foreskin
dangled an inch in front of the bulge of his large
glans.
	Bill reached out to grasp the nipple, rolling it
between thumb and forefinger.
	"That looks good, really good," I sad, almost
mesmerized by the sight. The scars were perfectly
healed and almost invisible.
	"I like the touch of your fingers, Bill," Mark
sighed. "I can feel them, although I think it's mostly
the friction of the foreskin against the head since
you're twisting it." His penis had begun to swell.
	"Wait!" I said. "Let's give him a chance to skin back
before the head's all swollen." Bill let go
immediately and Mark grasped his penis right around
thw widest part, over the flaring corona. He slowly
pulled back and we watched, fascinated, as the long
narrow foreskin widened, stretching over the big
glans. The orifice expanded as he continued to pull
back, until it had stretched enough to reveal Mark's
slit.
	"That's nice so far," Bill commented. "I can see your
slit. Can you pull it back farther now?"
	"I think so," Mark answered. "I can feel it's tight,
but it doesn't hurt." He tugged the shroud back
farther, and the shapely purple glans came into view.
For a moment, the edge of the foreskin was poised on
the flaring rim, and then it snapped down into the
deep groove behind the head to form a thick wrinkled
collar. I reached out and lightly touched his exposed
glans with my fingertip.
	"Wow! I really felt that," Mark exclaimed.
	"That proves your glans has gotten more sensitive," I
said. "A few weeks ago you didn't react that way when
I touched your tip."
	"Man, you're right," Mark said as a big smile came
over his face. His penis began to expand, filling out
as blood rushed into it. I grasped his big helmet
between thumb and forefinger and gave it a couple of
gentle squeezes, intensifying his erection. All of us
were becoming excited, but Mark's arousal was the most
pronounced as he stood before us with his six-inch
erection pointing straight out.
	"This is your moment, Mark," I said. "We want to
watch you have your first orgasm with your new prick."
	"Are you gonna slide my skin for me?" he asked. "I'd
relly love that."
	"Yeah, but first I want to make sure there's a lot of
lubrication. I wouldn't want to make your prick sore
for your first orgasm." I picked up a bottle of baby
oil I'd bought for the occasion and squirted a couple
of drops on Mark's engorged glans, spreading it
carefully with one finger as he gasped at the new
sensation. His pelvis thrust forward at my touch, and
I guided him down to sit next to me on the couch.
	I formed a ring with thumb and forefinger, encircling
his prick behind the roll of foreskin, and gently
eased it forward over the swollen helmet, feeling
slight resistance as it rolled over the flaring rim.
Mark shuddered at the sensation as Bill returned from
the kitchen with a wad of paper towels.
	"Look at that!" I said as I drew Mark's new foreskin
fully forward, where it encased the bulging head and
formed a thick pucker beyond the end. "He's still got
a bit of a nipple even when he's hard."
	"Okay, start stroking him, Jack," Bill urged. "I want
to see that skin slide over the big head." I began a
slow and sensual stroking, drawing the foreskin back
almost to the rim, and then reversed to bring it fully
forward again. Mark began to moan softly at the new
sensations as the lubricated foreskin caressed the
nerve endings in his glans. On the back-stroke I
noticed that a drop of his natural lubricant had
appeared to part the lips of his slit, and I swept it
up with the long foreskin and worked it over the
tender surface of his glans.
	"His prick's really hard now," I commented to Bill.
	"I can see his tip's already gotten darker and his
balls are getting tight," Bill replied as he knelt
before Mark and cupped his tensing scrotum. Now Mark
began grunting:
	"Hunh! Hunh! Hunh!" The sensation were pouring into
his prick as I stroked his foreskin up and down the
straning glans, and I slowed my pace.
	"I don't want to make you come too quickly," I
explained. "I want you to enjoy the moment as long as
you can." Mark kept grunting with each stroke, his
excitement mounting.
	"We might not need the towels, Bill," I said. "I
think I can make him come with the foreskin all the
way forward, and when he shoots I'll pinch the end to
keep the juice from coming out." I knew that the
feeling of his hot cream swirling around the glans
would intensify Mark's orgasm.
	"His eyes just closed," Bill noted as I worked Mark's
foreskin over the bulging and slippery helmet. I
pinched the end shut and shortened my strokes,
jiggling the foreskin to maintain his sensations. My
thumb was now on top, bumping against his flaring rim,
and my other fingertips were underneath, pressing
against the tender area under the head.
	Mark's body stiffened as he approached the brink, and
I slowed my strokes again, wanting to keep him at the
point just below orgasm, until he couldn't take it any
more. His moaning grew louder and his fists tightened.
His stomach muscles rippled and his toes curled.
	"HAHH! HAHH! HAHH!" he grunted loudly as the
sensations mounted, and I knew that he'd be blasting
his sperm uncontrollably within seconds. His jaw
tightened and the cords in his neck stood out.
	I felt a hard throb through the foreskin as Mark's
pelvis thrust upward and heard him cry out loudly as
the first discharged spewed into his foreskin, making
it distend. Mark cried out helplessly as I massaged
his foreskin to draw another spasm from his body, and
as his prick throbbed between my fingers I saw his
foreskin swell even more.
	He cried out again, and I felt the throb as his
foreskin filled with another heavy discharge of sperm,
and this time his rim felt indistinct as the hot fluid
filled the space behind his corona. Mark was really
into it, yelping and grunting as his foreskin became
bloated with his joy-juice. His prick throbbed a few
more times as he threw his head from side to side
uncontrollably as the fury of his orgasm swept over
him.
	Now I felt only weak residual throbs as his orgasm
spent itself, and soon he was still. He took a deep
breath and opened his eyes, which were filled with
tears. He looked at us speechless, unable to say
anything in his daze.
	"I know it was intense," I said to him. "I remember
the first time I jacked to orgasm when I was a kid. I
cried too."
	"Yeah, it was really hot," Bill said. He placed the
paper towels under the end of Mark's softening
erection and I released the end of his foreskin. We
watched a thick stream of semen roll out of the
orifice, dropping in clumps onto the paper towels and
soaking into the fibers.
	"I-I-I," Mark sputtered.
	"Don't try to talk," Bill said. "Just lie back and
enjoy it." Mark's body was totally relaxed now, the
tension of his first orgasm totally drained out of
him.
	"Let's get you to bed," I urged. "I think you'll
sleep well tonight." We helped him to his feet and
walked him to my spare bedroom.
	Back in the living room, Bill and I sprawled on the
couch, legs intertwined in the easy intimacy of close
friends. I spoke first:
	"I really feel good about that. We helped him really
enjoy his sexual rebirth.
	"Yeah, we've had ours, and it was nice to help him
have his," Bill replied.

The end