His other hand was flat on his stomach.His other hand was flat on his stomach. His penis lay where it had flopped, the glans between the other ball and his thigh. It was clearly stirring. The upper hand began to migrate south, stroking the sensitive skin of the smooth area between the navel and the pubic hair. He had a thick forest, but low down and with a clean upper line. When they reached the root of his phallus, he parted his forefinger and second finger, and ran this vee down to embrace the thickening shank. A few pushes, with the fingers curving down to engage with the upper scro- tum, and the glans looked distinctly heavy. He transferred his forefinger to the other side of the shaft, and hooked it below it, supporting it so that the glans, by now doubled in size, was raised up. His thumb rubbed the upper surface of the shank, and more fingers joined in the support. He took the hand away, to re- assure himself of the presence of the towel, to catch the sperm and perhaps to cover himself in case of an intrusion. When he removed his hand, the shaft supported itself. He switched on the bedlight, and lay admiring the growing weapon. By now it was no mere stiffy, but a tree in full flare. He watched the taut skin pulling slowly back across the glistening plum-surface of his close textured glans. There was no quick flick of the fingers this time: he was taking his time. |