One evening a drunk had crashed his vehicle into
Morrison’s, and the professor was taken to the
hospital with a broken back. When I arrived the
professor was conscious and he put me in charge of his
office until he returned to work, which would be weeks
or months. His spine had been severed but the doctors
explained that new treatments made a full recovery
possible, although this would take many weeks.
My work at the university wasn’t very demanding,
especially as I wasn’t qualified to teach any of
Morrison’s classes. I answered routine inquiries and
processed paperwork, filling in the time by perusing
some of Morrison’s files. One of these clarified a
matter about which I’d been wondering for years.
Morrison’s laboratory was in the basement under his
first-floor office, and he’d always kept it locked. He
never told me what project or projects he’d been
running and I knew better than to ask him about
something he clearly considered none of my business.
Morrison had built a prototype time machine, and the
details were clearly laid out in the file. It wasn’t a
practical model, in his estimation, because it opened
up a window, or portal, only a couple of inches in
diameter into the past. This was too small to admit a
person, or even a laboratory animal larger than a
mouse. He felt that sending a mouse into the past was
hardly an accomplishment, and Morrison had abandoned
further work on his project some years ago.
Most of the file was a series of equations, and my
mind wandered as I leafed through the pages. It was
then that it hit me. The time machine’s range was
about a century, twice my age, and I could watch my
birth. A second later I realized that I would be able
to watch my circumcision. A second after that I
realized that I might be able to prevent my
circumcision.
I had lots of time to spare and I took the file with
me when I went into the basement, having left a note
on the office door. If any urgent matter came up I had
my pager on my belt.
It didn’t take very long to power up the portal, and
I began working the controls to take it into the past.
I knew the date on which I’d been born, and I knew
where. Finding the hospital wasn’t very difficult but
once inside, and being able to navigate using only a
two-inch window into the past made finding the right
room very tedious. The first day I found only my
mother’s hospital room, and I saw her holding me.
Apparently I’d been born only hours before.
This first effort was so time-consuming that I had to
shut down and get back to the office before anyone
missed me. As I climbed the stairs I thought about
what I would do when I zeroed in on my circumcision. I
had to stop it, but how? Anyway, I had the weekend to
ponder this.
When I got home Matt was already naked and it was
clear that he was horny. He sat in front of the TV
watching a European video in which none of the guys
were circumcised. I disrobed and sat with him to enjoy
the flick, as I knew that watching uncut guys getting
it on was always inspiring and erotic for us. I
wrapped my fingers around his Astroglide-covered prick
as he squirted a few drops of lubricant on mine,
working me up to hardness as he massaged the viscous
fluid into my tissues.
He already had a towel spread on the sofa and we
didn’t have to worry about staining the fabric. We
slowly worked each other up until Matt said to me:
“Well, ready to come?”
“I sure am. What about you?” I saw that his balls
were tight against his body, as were mine.
“I am,” he replied.
“Well, suppose you go first. You’ve been sitting here
longer than I.”
“Okay, do me.” Matt stopped stroking my prick as I
increased speed on his, my fist traveling the length
of the shaft and glans. I felt his body tense and knew
that he was tightening up to help bring on his orgasm.
We’d discussed this and I knew that both our pricks
had been desensitized by circumcision, and that we had
to tighten our crotch muscles to attain orgasm.
Matt’s breathing became heavier, and I knew that he
was straining. I gave him some help by twisting my
fist around his mushroom on each up-stroke to work on
the nerves in the groove and rim. I watched his pink
glans become purple as it swelled further between my
fingers. His stomach muscles tightened as he began
grunting, and I knew he’d be unloading within seconds.
Matt’s outstretched legs jerked as I felt the first
throb of orgasm in his prick. A thick rope of cream
shot up from his long slit, wetting the towel under
him, and the heavy odor of chlorine filled the air.
His prick throbbed again as another gush spurted up
from his straining tip. Matt grunted in pure joy as
another load erupted from his purple head. His lips
were drawn back and his legs jerked again as I felt
another heavy throb in his turgid penis. Now the force
of his jets relented, and within seconds his tip was
merely dribbling. I began wiping him with a corner of
the towel as his body relaxed. After a couple of
minutes Matt was revived enough to resume stroking my
prick.
I concentrated on the sensations of his warm fist
sliding up and down my pole from the base to the
helmet. It felt hot, but I knew that I had to tighten
my crotch muscles to reach the peak. Matt cupped my
balls with his other hand, adding to my sensations.
The video was still running and I watched a European
guy stroking his long foreskin up and down his
engorged tip as the jets erupted from his pouting
slit.
It took several minutes but then I was there. My
prick strained and the purple helmet ached for relief
as my eyes closed as they always do before I come.
Matt’s fist twisted hard around my straining tip and I
felt the first shock of orgasm deep inside me. I felt
a torrent of hot cream rushing up my tube and I cried
out in relief. My body shuddered as the second spasm
sent another gush of semen into my straining prick. I
was really into it now, and I grunted and groaned as
the flood filled my tube. The next convulsion wasn’t
as hard and my orgasm tapered off into a steady
dribble. I felt Matt’s tongue lapping at the front
dome of my helmet, removing the cream.
“Neither of us comes as fast as we used too,” I heard
him say. “We need a lot of friction.” I drifted off to
sleep thinking of his words after we’d gone to bed.
Monday morning was busy and it wasn’t until lunch
that I was able to steal some time in the basement. I
figured I’d have a couple of hours, as many of us took
late lunches. This time I was able to place the portal
in the hospital room immediately, and was able to see
and hear what was happening. I advanced the time one
day, and after a few minutes a nurse came in to say:
“We’ll be taking him in for his circumcision first
thing in the morning. He’s too young to feel pain.
Just so you know.” After hearing this I moved to the
next morning and began searching for the room where
doctors performed circumcisions. After a few minutes I
found it. A baby was strapped to a padded board and a
doctor stood in front of him, a tray of instrument to
his right. Was that really me, or another baby? I
moved in closer to read the name on the baby’s
bracelet. It was mine. I noticed also that I had a
long, luxurious foreskin, a tempting target for the
doctor.
Continued…