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I hadn’t seen Brian, an old high school buddy, in nearly a decade. Nan was on a business trip—-her first since her surgery earlier in the year. We listened to music, drank some wine and caught up.

“. . . and I guess the other big news is that I’ve gotten back into beating off, big time,” I told him. I had just told Brian about Nan’s knee operation and recuperation—successful, but slow. And no sex. It was month ten without fucking.

“So what’s new on the masturbation front?” he said, grinning.

“Glad you asked.” Boy, was I. I had been cruising Craigslist for a nearby male stroke buddy. I was desperate to drain my balls with another guy. Chastity was a drag, but I figured jerking with another man wouldn’t violate our vows. But no luck.

“Masturbation sleeves, specially formulated stroke creams and cock rings now are part of my arsenal,” I continued. “Nan not only approves–she even helps me pick out new toys on the web. What a gal. She’ll even smack my ass and squeeze my balls while I’m whacking.”

“Don’t you masturbate together?” Brian asked.

“That’s the thing, she can’t masturbate because of her knee,” I explained. “She comes really hard, and she’s afraid she’ll hurt herself. It’s really a drag.”

“Tell me about masturbation sleeves,” he said. Brian, I couldn’t help but notice, now sported a bulge. Maybe Karen, his wife of three years, wasn’t putting out. Or maybe he was just horny. “How do they work?”

“Pretty cool, actually. It grips your cock so you don’t have to grab so hard when you stroke. Amazing material I can’t describe. Hold on.”

I took three steps at a time as I raced upstairs and grabbed the sleeve. After hesitating about half a second, I picked up a handful of items from the drawer next to my bed—lube, a butt plug and a vibrator. Back downstairs, I tossed Brian the wiggly purple sleeve.

“Interesting,” he said, manipulating the stretchy, flesh-like plastic. “Little nubs on the inside.”

“Look, you can’t tear it.” I pulled it inside out so the nubs where on the outside and the inside—where you stick your well-lubed cock—was smooth.

Now my cock was hard.

What the hell. We’re old friends. If this gets awkward, I’ll just pull my pants up. “This calls for a demonstration,” I announced.

I unbuckled and pushed my jeans down. My hard cock flipped out. I applied a long line of lube along the top of my pulsing dick, sort of like toothpaste. Then a generous amount down the opening of the sleeve. “Insert dick here,” I said, and did. I started stroking. Brian had a half-smile on his face. This was the first time I had jerked in front of a guy since I was eleven.

I wanted to take all my clothes off. Maybe I would: The half-smile was gone from his face. He had unzipped, his fat cock at attention as he fingered his glans. I had seen Brian’s cock once before, in high school, and it was enormous. I remember it hung halfway down his thigh and was thick as a wrist.

I wanted to come so badly. I also wanted to suck Brian’s cock.

I was giving myself slow strokes, pulling the sleeve down my cock and then slowly pushing it back up. It felt delicious. For all my bragging about jerking-off paraphernalia, I hadn’t induced an orgasm in over a week. I was fast approaching the edge.

I pulled it off, freeing my dick, and handed it to Brian: “Your turn.”

Brian unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down. I kicked off mine and tore off my T-shirt. Finally, I was nude. And jerking off with another guy for the first time in years.

Brian spread his knees apart as he pushed his cock into the sleeve. His enormous shaft and nutsac were huge compared to my puny package. I wanted to stroke and fondle him. I had plenty of lube left on my dick and slowly ran my fist up and down my shaft, my left hand clutching my balls.

“You’re hung like a horse,” I said, watching him stroke with the sleeve while I beat off. “Look at me. I’ve got a pencil dick.”

My penis from base to urethra was a whopping five inches—and that was when I measured myself just before ejaculating. It’s more like four-and three-quarters inches if I’m not about to come. Circumference was even smaller, barely four inches.

“Does Nan complain?” Brian was half listening as he stroked with the purple sleeve.

“No, not at all. She usually comes like a freight train when I’m inside her. She says her cunt is shrink-to-fit. Thank god.”

Brian pulled the sleeve off his dick and turned it inside out so the nubs were on the inside. He slathered more lube on his dick and pulled it on.

I slid down off the couch to my knees, with my ass against the cushion. I reached over to the sleeve. “Like this,” I said. He had been death-gripping his cock, the way guys do when they beat off. “Just pull it slowly up and down.”

Now I was stroking him, via the sleeve. “Ever measure this thing?”

“Seven inches, last time I checked.”

I reached into a drawer in the side table and pulled out a ruler. I pulled the sleeve off his throbbing dick. Was it just an excuse to touch his cock? Probably. I ran the tape along the top of his dick from where it protruded from his abdomen to the tip. His shaft was wider than the head and marbled with thick veins, deep red and pulsing with his heartbeat. Like me, Brian was circumcised.

“Six and three quarters. You might be seven when you come.”

I put the tape down and started stroking him. He felt completely different from my own dick. As I brought my hand down to the bottom of his shaft, a good two inches of Brian’s penis extended out of my clenched fist. My own hand virtually covered my entire stiff dick.

I started stroking him faster. Harder. He spread his legs and leaned back. “Don’t stop.”

I tucked a leg under me as I sat in front of him, cupping his balls in my left hand. One of his balls was bigger and heavier than both of mine. I felt their heft, rolled them around, articulated each of his nuts. I pulled on them, dragging his scrotum down farther, making his cock harder.

Brian was sitting up now, his arms rigid by his side. He was breathing deeper, his eyes closed, his face red. He was close. I slowed the pace and fought the urge to suck his cock.

I started to stroke mine instead. Jerking Brian faster, he got harder. I started to stroke myself faster. His cock swelled as a line of pre-cum dribbled out of his pisshole.

Brian roared, spraying jism on his face and the wall behind him—long strings of hot semen squirting out of his dick as I pumped him. His pulsing cock in my hand and the sight of him shooting his load pushed me over the edge. I spasmed and shot all over his cock and balls.

I fell back on to the floor, my arms spread wide and my dick still throbbing between my legs.

“That. Was. Intense,” Brian finally said. He raised his head and looked down his ruined torso. His half-hard cock was streaked with my splooge. Both my jism and his were crusted in his pubic hair and pooled on his abdomen.

“What a mess,” Brian said. “Get up here and lick me clean.”

###

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