Sexual Rebirth

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