That Spring

He gently felt around with his buried fingers along the shaft behind my
balls until he located a slightly protruding lump just at the very root of
the shaft. Then he began to massage this lump, rubbing it in small, slow,
circles with a moderate pressure. I immediately started to feel a rich
warmth spreading through my entire groin; my dick swelled even more, and I
could feel my juices flowing. It was a very erotic feeling; not a fiery,
irritating burning that demanded the release of orgasm like jacking off near
the head of the dick produced, but a deep, rich warmth that was satisfying
in its own way, that felt like it could go on for hours without needing any
other release.

He sensitively worked on me like that, and sure enough a slow stream of
fluid began to emerge from the tip of my dick. As it started to flow down
towards the rim of the head, he reached with a finger of his other hand and
directed the stream, preventing it from running down the shaft, leading it
to drip from the rim straight down onto the saucer, where a small puddle was
beginning to collect. He repeated this maneuver whenever necessary as he
worked on me, evidently trying to see how big a puddle of cream he could
milk out of my balls before he made me come.

I was truly in ecstasy. The sensations I was feeling coupled with the
outrageous sexuality of the situation were too much; it was all I could do
to lie back numbly and watch.

He continued to do me steadily, occasionally breaking the silence to tell me
how hot he was getting from watching my big dick cream, with its skin pulled
so tight from the pressure of his hand, and about his other jack-off
experiences with his friends when he lived in Chicago. I was in a trance; I
could barely follow what he was saying; but I was interested when he started
talking about his sister. He said she had caught him and two friends in the
act during a sleep-over they were having a few years previously, and had
been very amused. At first she was derisive, but her interest in their male
sexuality grew. They would let her watch them do it, as his friends found
her presence very exciting. She would frequently attend when they had their
jack-off sessions, at first just watching; but eventually, she enjoyed
encouraging them, and making suggestions of different things to try;
sometimes trying some of the more creative ideas on them herself. He said
that he had already told her about my cock, but she hadn't believed him.

All this time the pool of pre-come that was building on the saucer perched
on my chest continued to spread; the thick fluid didn't flow like water
would have, but was a deep puddle, almost a pile, a sixteenth-inch deep. We
were watching the rivulet ooze down the head and run in a thin, sticky line
down onto the saucer. The stream would ebb and flow, and he would comment
when a particularly thick gob emerged from my dick-head. We were both dazed,
completely immersed in masturbation.

I didn't hear her coming down the cellar stairs from outside until she was
almost there, but a girl suddenly walked in the room, and the three of us
stared at each other as if frozen: I was so far gone in sexual ecstasy that
the shock and extreme embarrassment I would have ordinarily felt at being
discovered in this totally revealing situation was only a thought; she
exclaimed, "Oh my god, Jeff, you weren't exaggerating!"; and he said in a
hoarse voice, "Isn't it amazing?". He told me not to worry, she was his
sister, and they had planned to catch me exposed like this- he had noticed
that I was a little uptight about all this, but he wanted to show me off, so
he had arranged that she give him twenty minutes to get me going, and she
would then come down.

His sister walked around by my feet to have a better view of the
proceedings; it did feel incredibly exciting to have what I had realized was
my extremely large dick displayed so openly, creaming and swollen as it was
to its maximum. Jeff showed her how far he had gotten his whole hand down
behind my balls, and how much fluid we had already gotten out of me. Jeff
explained to her what we were doing, and as he continued making me cream,
she reached down and put her hand around my shaft, but she couldn't wrap her
hand around more than two-thirds of its width. "My god", she said again. She
watched her brothers handiwork and its effect on me in silence for a few
minutes, and then she asked me if I was anywhere near coming. I could barely
talk, but I told her I felt like I could do this forever. She and Jeff
started talking with each other all about my dick and what we had done today
and yesterday- she was amazed at his description of my orgasm yesterday, and
said she wanted to see me come. He said that there wasn't any doubt that
that would be happening before too long.

By now, the saucer was covered across much of its surface with the puddle of
my fluid. Jeff said he wanted to stop doing me, and see how long I kept
dripping. He stopped his circular rubbing, and slowly withdrew his hand up
my shaft from behind my balls, and withdrew his hand altogether from my rod.
As the stretching of the skin on my shaft and ballsack was released when he
drew out his hand, my balls settled back to their usual position hanging
deep between my legs, but even though the pull of the skin on the head was
released, my shaft didn't relax at all, as it was so distended in the
excitement of exhibitionism. She reached a palm down and hefted my balls,
and then sat down next to her brother, and examined my penis with her eyes
up and down.

The rich glow in my groin that Jeff's motions had produced was gradually
subsiding, and as the intense, deep stimulation he had been providing was no
longer there, I became aware of other sensations, particularly a burning in
the head and down the back of my dick, and the swollen pressure of the blood
engorging the shaft and head. The helmet-like head was completely distended,
stretched smooth and shiny, a slowly diminishing silver rivulet of fluid
running from the hole down the front to the thick rim, and down onto the
saucer. Jeff, watching, reached over and caught the string dripping down
from the head with a finger, and lifted it, stretching the string up into a
long inverted v, seeing how far he could stretch it before it snapped. he
got about two feet up and it still hadn't snapped, but was getting caught on
the shaft and my belly, so he guided it back towards the saucer as much as
he could.

Now that there was no contact with my genitals as a distraction, I noticed
how bizarre it felt to have my most personal parts being so openly viewed by
these people who were essentially strangers- part of me felt a strong
undercurrent of horror that I could succumb to such unacceptable activities,
a sick fascination at my own weakness and perversion; another part of me
reveled in the attention and obvious admiration that I was receiving, and
yet another part surged with the male sexual strength and primal lust that
was coursing through me, anchored in my swollen hard-on. I felt insane, no
way to reconcile these conflicting powerful feelings; yet for now, my huge
hardon sticking out into our midst, the lust won.

Jeff's sister said she wanted to make me come, and asked if she could jerk
me off. Without waiting for a reply she reached toward my erection, and
formed her thumb and forefinger into a "C" shape; she encircled the rim of
the head as much as her little hand would, adjusting the size of her
encircling fingers so that they would just slip around the edge of the rim,
and began to slide up and down over the rim in a moderately fast rhythm,
just rubbing very lightly and going only about a half-inch above and below
the rim. This motion produced a wet, sticky sound with each stroke of her
hand as she rubbed the fluid that my head was coated with, her motion
working up a frothy foam of cream around my cock-head, and producing a very
intense, burning sensation. It was almost more than I could bear when,
suddenly, she stopped. After about thirty seconds, she resumed her rubbing.

She kept up that pattern, thirty seconds on, thirty seconds off, for several
minutes; then during the next break, she took her other hand and grasped the
base of my penis, pulling it into a more upright position so that it was
sticking out as far as it could, holding it there for the remainder of her
work. The breaks she was taking both eased and intensified the effect her
amazing handjob was having on me. On the one hand, just when I couldn't take
it anymore, she would stop; but then, when the intense sensation had only
partly subsided during her breaks, she would start in again.

She kept on with this for a surprisingly long time; I guess my tolerance to
sensation had been raised by all the intense stimulation I had received over
the last forty-five minutes- my dick-head was almost numb from the intensity
of her very direct stimulation. She must have been doing me like this for
seven or eight minutes, she and Jeff commenting to each other from time to
time about some aspect of the activity. Jeff had slipped out his erection,
and was jacking it off with wet sounds; the room was filled with the
slippery sounds of masturbation. I was completely beside myself with
ecstasy; I was again creaming a steady flow; I felt delirious, on fire,
completely wide opened in every sense; when Jeff reached over and cupped my
balls with his free hand. That did it.

I won't describe the details of what happened next; I can't, it was beyond
words. I soaked my face and my shirt, and splattered even more fluid into
the saucer; Jeff also came when he saw my great dick coming; and his sister,
who's name I learned after it was all over was Claire, told us she also came
in her panties in sympathy with the intense sexuality of the situation. We
all lay back, exhausted.

3.

That evening, after I had cooled off, I kept replaying the events of the
afternoon over and over in my mind. I was in shock with shame and confusion;
the string of taboos that had been assaulted by yesterday's session with
Jeff was nothing compared to the devastation wrought by this afternoon's
events. Not only had I succumbed once again to the forbidden temptations of
Jeff's inclinations, but had been caught in the act by Claire being jacked
off by a boy, my genitals not only being seen, but actually touched by a
girl. Claire! I couldn't get her out of my mind. I pictured her over and
over again doing what she had done, doing her best to make me come. It was
inconceivable to me; I couldn't believe it had actually happened.

In high school I had stayed in the background- today I would probably have
been called a nerd. I was ok looking, I guess, but not particularly athletic
or popular. I was very shy, and generally kept a low profile. I had had a
few "girlfriends", quiet girls that I would occasionally go to a movie with,
and one of whom I had kissed a few times, chaste kisses that I had to work
up the nerve to steal.

Even my sexual fantasies when I masturbated were full of vague gropings and
warm fuzzy wrestling; so to have participated in such brazen, deliberate
efforts, with other people, to build up the maximum sexual tension, leading
to the most powerful possible orgasm, was off of the scale of anything that
I could imagine participating in. My self image was shattered- but, the only
thing that I was sure of, was that this had been the most amazing,
satisfying experience I had ever had, and even though I didn't know how to
handle it, I was eager to keep repeating it.

I didn't know what to do about Claire. I was fixated on her. In my naive
emotional way I felt acute shame and humiliation when I pictured myself
lying back helplessly while she jacked me off- I couldn't imagine facing her
again. The fact that she had obviously been a willing participant in those
events was irrelevant to me- I didn't have a clue how to relate to a girl in
such a way. At the same time, I thought I was in love with her, and
fantasized about developing a romantic relationship with her- and then there
was a part of me that was totally fixated on contriving a way to have her do
me again.

Over the following week, Jeff instigated several more sessions in my
basement room. He was totally fixated on masturbation with me; each time, as
soon as he had my pants down, he seemed to come alive. Even though I was
getting more used to these extremely intimate encounters, my conservative
history only allowed me to approach them passively; I found it extremely
difficult to acknowledge that I was a willing, even eager participant in
this deliberate nastiness. Even so, I managed to jack him off several times,
and found the experience very exciting.

Our encounters began to fall into a pattern, with my larger dick being the
main focus of interest for both of us. Usually we would start off with me
lying back in the chair, which he called the "sex throne", while he tried
various ways of jerking me off. He was a connoisseur of masturbation, and I
learned as he talked during these encounters that he had had a fairly large
group of friends in his previous neighborhood that were equally obsessed
with jacking off with each other, and they had evidently developed an
amazing repertoire of techniques to stimulate a penis- which I could testify
to, as Jeff seemed rarely to repeat himself as he worked on me. Some of
these were incredibly intense, making me come in minutes, and others, like
the slow, deep massage he used on our second encounter, seemed to last
forever, producing a seemingly never-ending stream of pre-come creaming down
my shaft, before I finally exploded.

We would take frequent breaks from rubbing my dick to prolong it- Sometimes
I would work on him during these times, sitting on the floor next to him as
he took the "throne"; or he would just sit, his eyes a few inches away from
my swollen penis, studying it, gently fondling it, as if to memorize every
detail of its anatomy. I found that I enjoyed playing with his erection- the
novelty of its much smaller size in my hand was fascinating.

But my thoughts were always on Claire- I kept hoping that he would bring her
over again; but when I got up the nerve to ask him about her, he
nonchalantly said, "Oh, she does what she wants", apparently not
particularly interested in her participation in his preoccupation. I could
think of little else, though; and while to say that I enjoyed Jeff's
attentions would be much more than an understatement, I was not at all
attracted to men "per se"; and the memory of my sexual encounter with Claire
was the highlite of my fantasy life.

After a week or so, I came home one day to find a note waiting for me saying
that I had been invited next door for dinner. Jeff and I hadn't had a
session that day, and as I had been getting used to the frequency of orgasms
we were attaining, I felt a surge of anticipation. Then I thought of Claire,
wondering if she would be there, and froze in confusion.

At the appointed time, I went next door, my heart pounding in anticipation
of seeing Claire again. I was both elated and terrified, my memories of the
other afternoon clashing wildly with both my romantic fantasies of her, and
the awkwardness I had always felt around girls. When I rang, she answered
the door, giving me a knowing smile. I stammered a greeting, and went in.
She told me that the rest of her family members were out for the evening,
but that Jeff would be back in a little while with pizza for our dinner.

We went into the living room and sat down. I tried to make some small talk,
but she looked over at me with a playful smile and said, "I've been thinking
about the other day". I felt myself falling apart; I gushed to her how
embarrassed I was about that, how I would like to maybe get to know her
better. She burst out laughing, and said "How sweet! I see you have a crush
on me", and then she told me not to worry, that this had often happened
before with "Jeff's jerk-off buddies", as she called them, when she had
participated in their activities. She explained to me that she was sometimes
fascinated by what boys like to do with their genitals, but that she
considered her explorations with her brother's friends as amusement, and
kept her romantic interests to herself. But she told me that she found my
innocence "sweet", and said she was very interested in "what I had in my
pants", with a knowing wink. I felt a let down, but also a curious relief
washed over me; I felt released from the obligation of having to court her,
something I never felt very confident about.

She began to tell me about how she first discovered her brother's
"interests", and how her initial reaction when she walked in on them that
first time was disgust at what they were doing with each other; and how her
brother had then diffused the situation, telling her how normal it was for
boys and so on, and how she had curiously stayed to watch, and noticed how
turned on the boys seemed to be by her presence. She said how she found this
exciting; how she discovered that these activities were her brother's
obsession, and how he cultivated a circle of friends to share his interest.
She called it "Jeff's jerk-off club", and teased him about his obsession;
but when she had come to realize that he wasn't interested in girls and was
probably a homosexual, she became more supportive, easing the tension
between them; and she found herself joining in more and more in their
sessions for amusement, sometimes getting quite turned on by their
excitement herself, enjoying her own experimentation with "putting an big
dick through its paces" in an environment with no personal interests at
stake for her.

She told me how Jeff hadn't met any friends to share his obsession since
their move here, and how excited he had been when he had discovered that I
was amenable; and how he told her that he felt he had hit the jackpot with
my "amazing" dick, that he seemed to talk about little else with her, and
seemed obsessed with it. I told her about our almost daily sessions, and
that he did indeed seem obsessed. She made me tell her in detail what we
had been doing during these sessions: she asked me if I liked it. I felt
myself blushing, and she said she wasn't surprised, she had seen what he
could do with a dick.

At that moment, we heard Jeff return and enter the room bearing pizza. He
said hi to us casually and sat down. We ate, chatting small talk. I was
relieved at the normalcy of the situation, until, just as we were finishing,
Claire suddenly said to her brother with a smile, "I'm surprised you've had
him here for this long and he still has his pants on". Jeff said, "you're
right. We can remedy that easily." I felt a sudden warmth in my groin, and
felt the by now familiar paralysis of anticipation surge over me.

Jeff got up, and came over to me, reaching down to unhook my belt buckle. I
obligingly leaned back a bit, lifting off the sofa a little to help him in
his efforts. I felt the usual thrill, and guilt, of surrender, but the
turmoil was less; I think my talk with Claire had relieved a lot of the
psychological pressure within me- somehow acknowledging my willing
participation in these situations, (my complicity in which had previously
felt so wicked), with someone else who accepted it made it seem less
threatening and risky.

He pulled my pants and underpants down simultaneously to my knees, and sat
down next to me; I was already getting hard. Claire looked on from the other
sofa with a slight smile playing around her lips, and she said, "my, my!" as
my dick continued to swell. It rose to its full size in seconds, and
continued to stretch further under the thrill of my audience's gaze; it
pointed at the roof hanging slightly over my stomach, bouncing slightly with
each pulse of my heart. Claire told her brother that she could understand
why he was so obsessed with my penis. She came over to sit on the sofa
beside me, and, watching it bounce, asked me if I had ever been with a girl.
I muttered no; speaking to someone when I was in this condition was
something I hadn't gotten used to yet. She reached over and absently ran her
fingers down the back of my erection, saying "Have you seen a girl's cunt
before?" I again grunted no.

She told me that she had never taken her pants off at one of Jeff's
"jack-off parties" because she liked to be on the giving end of the fun,
(and I guess now that she wanted to distance herself from the proceedings &
stay in control) but said that she had an idea to try with me, and since she
knew I liked her, it should be especially fun for me, and teach me about a
girl's anatomy. She stood up and slipped her jeans off and laid them over
the sofa, then slipped her panties off. I ogled her bush, seeing a woman's
crotch naked for the first time. My cock was stiff at attention, as I ate up
the view of her fine pubic hair, delicately tracing the lips of her pussy.

She told her brother to "get me going", and said she would take over in a
while. He sat staring at my erection next to him, and said he'd like to see
me cream without being touched, and told me to contract my "piss muscles"
over and over, to see if I could work up some juices. I obliged, my dick
swelling and bouncing freely with each contraction; Claire stood facing me,
encouraging me with the view of her sex. After only about six contractions,
a large drop of clear fluid emerged from the hole and perched on the tip of
my dick. They both encouraged me to keep at it, and Jeff asked his sister,
"isn't he incredible?".

I was enjoying the new freedom I now felt to participate willingly in my own
sexual expression. I no longer felt such a strong need to deny my own
willing involvement as I had been feeling previously; the delicious
nastiness I was immersed in wasn't quite as overshadowed by guilt and dread.
As I felt my juices start to flow, I felt incredibly excited; eager to "show
off", and a pride in my spectacular equipment.

The drop swelled as I worked, until its weight started it on its long
journey to my belly, tracing a rivulet down the front of my head. This drama
was repeated a few more times as we watched, until finally a small stream
was running down from the tip of my cock, down the front of my shaft, right
down the center, and collecting in my pubic hair. Jeff reached over his
right hand, and, encircling my shaft gently near the bottom with his thumb
and forefinger, drew his hand slowly upward, causing the cream to gather in
a little pool where his fingers met the shaft. When he reached the top, he
slowly drew his hand away, trailing a long string of the sticky juice behind
it, that then dripped down along my belly following his hand.

I was very hot, and the touch of the hand on my dick was exquisite- I was
begging silently for more. As if in response to my thoughts, Claire sat down
next to me, and reached over with both hands, and grasped my shaft just
below the head with her right hand, and about two-thirds of the way down
with her left. She squeezed both hands slowly, then released them. She did
this over and over; and each time she squeezed, we watched the already large
head swell and become more shiny. She then encircled the base of the shaft
with her thumb and finger very much as her brother had, but with her fingers
up, like an inverted "ok" sign. She squoze the shaft with her encircling
fingers tightly while sliding her hand upwards, squeezing the blood in my
penis toward the head as if she was emptying a toothpaste tube; the head
swelled even more than under her previous trick, to the size of a small
peach, turning a brilliant purple. The pressure in the head of my dick was
painful, but exquisite; and seeing the size to which it swelled, Jeff was
transfixed, and said "wow" several times.

He then took over from her, and, asking me if it hurt too much, repeated her
gesture even more forcefully with his larger male hand. It was almost too
painful; but watching the swollen result, even larger than the last time,
larger than I had ever seen it, was an enormous turn-on. A large surge of
fluid was squeezed out each time they squoze it, running down over their
hands.

Jeff then took off his pants, his erection sticking straight out forcefully;
evidently he was very turned on by watching the proceedings. Claire reached
over and tried the squeezing move on him, and his dick swelled impressively
too, looking like a half-sized model of mine.

Claire then said it was time to try her idea. She had me sit flat on the
floor with my legs spread, my back against the sofa. she then sat on the
floor facing me, her legs straddling mine. She had Jeff move over an ottoman
so that she could lean back a bit, then wiggled a little so that the tip of
my erection was inches from her cunt-lips. She looked at me, and as she
grasped my dick with both hands and maneuvered it towards her pussy, told me
that she was technically a virgin; she said she had never let any of jeff's
friends even see her naked, and had never had any of her boyfriends inside
her, at least not their dicks. She said the same would apply to me; and even
if she wanted to, she didn't think she could even fit me in.

Holding my shaft with both hands, she guided it until its tip was just
inside her pussy's lips; her hands were dwarfed by the shaft she was
holding, like a child's hand holding on to a bowling pin. She then began to
move my rod up and down at a moderate speed, rubbing it against the inside
of her lips, and the soft flesh inside. The tip of my dick was all that fit
between her lips; the bulk of the head was bobbing up and down well outside
her. Her motion made a sticky, slurpy sound each time she moved me. She
said, "Don't worry if you come, I'm on the pill to prevent cramps", but
truthfully it hadn't even occurred to me, as far as I had been from
considering sex with girls.

It felt intense on my dick, her pussy hair tickling my sensitive head, and
the soft slickness of the flesh, wet with our combined juices, a smoother,
hotter stimulation. Jeff was watching eagerly at my side. She worked in
silence for a few minutes, and then asked me if I had ever felt a girl come
before, and I grunted "no". She was sweating now, breathing hard, and seemed
to be blushing all over. She told me to reach over and slip the tip of my
finger into her slit below where she was working on it; I felt the very wet
smoothness around a small hole, going into her. She told me to gently push
the tip of my finger in, and to wiggle it against the mouth of the opening
fairly fast.

I was on fire; the friction her movements were making on the head of my
dick, and the slight jacking-off movements of her hands on my shaft, were
driving me to delirium, as I did what she asked. After a few seconds, I
began to feel her hole pulsing, gripping my finger tightly and releasing it
over and over, while Claire sighed, her eyes closed.

She stopped her rubbing of my dick inside her lips, opened her eyes and
looked into mine, and told me that that was what it was like when a girl
comes. She said that many girls, unlike most boys, can come several, even
many, times in a row, and if I could stand it, she would like to keep going,
and see how many times she could come before I did. She told me to keep up
wiggling my finger inside her, and to pause for a few moments each time I
felt her come.

She recommenced masturbating herself with my big erection, and I was doing
her hole thoroughly. The sound of our heavy breathing and the slurping
sounds of our masturbation were the only sounds; we worked on in silence.
Jeff was rubbing himself near the base of his shaft to try to last as long
as me, creaming nicely.

Every two or three minutes, I felt her come. Her wiggling of my dick up and
down was becoming more forceful, and her slit was by now soaked, a wide
swath of juice running from her cunt down her spread cheeks onto a growing
wet spot on the rug. I was in an almost continuous state of orgasm, from her
rubbing, and in sympathy with her repeated coming; cream was flowing from my
cock so thickly that I could feel it coming up the shaft and out the hole;
My dick was on fire. Jeff told me to tell him when I was going to come; he
wanted to be holding my dick when I did so he could feel it, but didn't want
to touch me to soon, so I could last as long as possible.

After she had been coming intermittently for about ten minutes, she suddenly
told me to wiggle my finger harder; she could feel one of her "big ones"
coming on. I tried to, but I was starting to come myself; Jeff could sense
it, and he reached around my shaft near the base to feel the come shooting
through the thick column on the back of my cock.

I watched as in a dream, as my come was spurting out of her pussy lips all
around the head of my cock where she was rubbing it furiously between her
lips, splattering all around her pussy and onto the floor; she was yelping
like a puppy, as I felt her hole clamping down on my finger much harder than
before, over and over, spasmodically, with a very gradually diminishing
intensity. Jeff kept jerking me gently while the last few pulses throbbed
through my cock, and his sister slowly let it retract from her drenched
lips, to begin sagging towards the carpet.

4.

I arrived home later that evening, drained but wired from the evening's
activities. After we had recovered, Claire had gotten some towels, and we
had all worked at cleaning up the substantial wet spots on their carpet.
They had talked while we blotted, Jeff saying how hot it was to see his
sister coming, how she rarely let him see her "in action", which provoked
some sibling bickering, he telling her that it wasn't fair, all the hundreds
of times she had seen him and his friends coming; with her retorts that it
was his hobby, she could do as she liked, and wasn't "one of his jack-off
boys". They did both agree about how much they had enjoyed seeing me come,
all my juice spurting out around her cunt-lips as we did each other.

But then, back at home, the events of the evening replayed themselves over
and over again in my mind- and I was again swallowed in the by-now familiar
confusion; why did all this intimate sex seem so clear and right when it was
happening, but seem so perverse and nasty to me, afterwards? The worst part
of it was my feeling of surrender, of helplessness, powerlessness to do
anything but passively go along with whatever my seducers wanted me to do:
it wasn't even that I didn't want to do those things with them, but that I
was so powerless to resist their directions once my dick started swelling.

The image of myself, lying back with my erection fully exposed and sticking
straight up, swollen and shiny, with Jeff staring at it mesmerized as he
deliberately and carefully worked on it; an image that I had watched for
many hours over the past week, was horrifying to me then as I pictured it.
Me, gladly allowing a male to touch my hard-on, and jack it off, repeatedly,
and the amount of time I was allowing to be spent just masturbating! It felt
so wrong! To add to the indignity, he would play games with my genitals,
seeing how much juice he could get out of me as he had that second session,
or counting how many times my penis would throb when I came, trying to best
my previous record. It was incredibly humiliating! Even so, as these images
arose in my memory, I felt my dick swell, and a familiar warmth spreading in
my groin. I couldn't understand myself. It was as if there were two
different people inside of me, like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde; there was the
normal, familiar, "safe" person I had always thought myself to be, and this
other, perverse sensualist, who would allow anything to be done to himself
for pleasure. My horror was the realization that he was actually me, and
that I seemed powerless to do anything about it.

I didn't see either of my neighbors that next day. I felt relieved at this,
but also a pressure in my balls, that had become used to the schedule of
daily, and very thorough, workouts. The following day, however, Jeff came
over to my house earlier than he ever had before, and I followed him down
into the basement with surrender, tinged with eagerness. When we got into my
room, he announced in a thick voice as he pulled my pants down, his eyes on
my penis, that he wanted to try to work up to two sessions a day, that a
dick like mine deserved to be hard constantly; he said that as I got used to
it, I would become able to have at least two good comes a day. My dick was
rising toward the ceiling as I pictured what he was suggesting; I was now
fully possessed by my primal urges, and knew I would go along with anything
he wanted to do with me.

Over the next two weeks, on most days we spent several hours down in my
basement room, as he worked on developing my stamina and getting my balls
used to producing more come. I felt like I was an athlete in training, and
he indeed treated my erection like a thoroughbred. We would have a session
usually in the late morning or early afternoon, and another at night,
sometimes over at his house. He was infinitely inventive; even with the
hours of masturbation we were putting in, he rarely repeated himself, coming
up with novel approaches again and again. One day, for example, as we
started he told me that he noticed that I had a hard time talking while I
was hard, and he had a game to help me get used to talking and jacking off
at the same time. He said he would ask me questions while he was doing me,
and I would have to answer reasonably quickly and clearly, or he would slow
down, lighten up, or stop. He thought that would condition me, "like
Pavlov's dogs", to be responsive verbally while I was having sex.

He squirted a big gob of hand lotion on the head of my dick, spread it all
over the shaft thoroughly with two fingers and his thumb, and started
sliding his hand up and down encircling my shaft, up over the thick ridge
that formed the rim on the head of my cock, and then back down again, slowly
but steadily. While he did this, he asked me very ordinary questions about
my life, like how long I had lived here, what I thought of a particular
movie, etc.. At first, I had to struggle to make my voice work, the
sensation was so all-consuming; but then as I mumbled he would slow his
movements almost to a stop, and lighten the pressure, until I answered
clearly. It was amazing how effective this game was; by the end of the
second session that day using this technique, I was having an almost
completely normal conversation with him while he did me, until I came; then
I couldn't speak. He noticed that; and while he watched the last few spurts
of come from the orgasm he was producing in me run down my cock, he said
we'd have to work on that.