Following the urethral stretching exercise we were told to take seats in the lounge chairs at poolside. Steve, Jose and Ric had already demonstrated the effectiveness of sounds in inducing orgasm. I had come close and maybe so had John. Tom, who had been afraid of the procedure from the beginning remained in the exercise room for a special treatment by Jose who'd found his piss slit too small to accommodate even the thinnest sound. We relaxed in the nude as Manuel came by and served us coffee. The overhead palm trees afforded enough filtered shade to protect us from the scorching Mexican sun. I sipped coffee and chatted with John, who sat next to me, and found him a most amiable grandfather who doted on his offspring even while reaching over to fondle my cock. This didn't offend me in the least, in face made me feel like one of his sons getting instruction in the fine art of masturbation from a seasoned pro. I reciprocated the gesture and cupped his senior-size balls in my hand as his cock came to life in what must have been its ten thousandth's erection.
"You have talented fingers, Dan," he said.
"So do you, John," I replied watching him work my cock to full hardness. His diamond pinky ring caught a ray of sunlight and burst into brilliant sparkles. I heard the vacant chair at my other side shuffle, looked around and saw Tom easing into it. It was the first time I'd seen him up close. He was the tallest in the group, lean but nicely built and of fair complexion. His receding hairline was a mixture of blond and gray, as was the stubble of beard kept neatly trimmed. He had only a light dusting of chest hair other than a narrow line of treasure trail from just below his navel to the thong he was wearing. I noticed a reddish stain on it as he slipped it off to sit nude as the rest of us. Even flaccid his cock was a good six inches.
"How'd it go?" I asked.
"OK, I guess," was his reply. "Jose finally got the rubber cath in and then pumped some air into it. It felt all right until he deflated it and withdrew the cath. He must have ruptured a blood vessel 'cause I was pissing blood. It's stopped now, thank God."
"I guess that's why Dr.Lerner said sounding should be done under sterile conditions.
John leaned over to get a better look at his cock and remarked: "You got a pretty good sized penis. I bet it takes a lot of blood to get an erection. How big does it grow?"
"Almost nine inches," Tom replied rather glumly.
"With a cock like that you could be a porn star," he continued.
"Well," he said with the trace of a grin, "I did make a few videos when I was younger...helped pay my tuition bills."
I winked at John and said: "Gee, we have a movie star with us."
"Ex-movie star," Tom replied. "Having a big cock isn't all it's cracked up to be. It makes you the center of attention, but also a lousy lover."
John released my cock, sat back and said wistfully: "It's been a long time since I was even close to being the center of attention."
Curious at Tom's remark I asked: "Why do you say a big cock made you a lousy lover? I would have thought it just the opposite."
"It's an attention-getter. Guys see only the cock and not what it's attached to. In high school I used to dread going into the shower after pt class 'cause all the guys called me 'horse boy' and laughed."
"They were just jealous."
"Maybe so, but it gave me an inferiority complex. The first time a guy tried to suck me off he gagged on it and threw up. I was so embarrassed. When I was interviewed for a porno movie the director told me not to worry 'cause my partner was a professional sword swallower."
"Wow! That must have been some movie. Did he take it all?
"I don't know how he managed to, but he sure as hell did. I felt like we were both side-show freaks. But the pay was good."
"How many films did you make?"
"About a dozen. But then the Aids epidemic hit and I was afraid to continue. After all in the porno business you never knew who you were going to hook up with, so I retired with enough money to finish my degree."
"What did you major in?" I asked as I reached over to feel his cock.
"Business administration...which got me a job as manager in a supermarket."
"At a considerable decrease in salary from the porno business."
"That's for sure, but it lead to other things. I got talking to a guy from corporate headquarters one day and we hit it off pretty good. He suggested I go back to college for my masters degree. We became friends...well more than that. We fell in love. For the first time ever someone loved me for who I am...not just my cock."
"I'm glad for you Tom, but don't understand your problem."
"Like everyone else, Chuck...that's his name...was impressed with my cock. He even managed to get half of it in his mouth, but after a few minutes his jaws were aching and he'd have to take a break. I had no problem swallowing his cock right down to the pubes. I was in heaven when he'd shoot down my throat. He had to jerk me off while holding his mouth over my cockhead in order to take my cum."
"Sound ok to me." I said this while feeling his cock expand in my hand. He wasn't kidding when he said it could grow to nine inches. I hoped to get the chance to replace Chuck in lapping up his cum. "Was that the only problem?" I asked.
He looked down at his engorged cock and said: "Think you could take that monster up your ass?
One look at it made me shake my head. "I doubt it," I replied. "That's a real stretcher."
"Poor Chuck," he continued. "No matter how much lube I used I could never penetrate him. Even the head made him scream in pain. That might have turned some guys on, but with someone you love that's the last thing you want to do. I'd end up going soft. We were both frustrated."
"Did you break up over that?"
"There were times when it came close, but damn it we love each other. I'd end up by sliding my dick between his ass crack. He said it felt great...maybe just to please me."
"I'm sure it did. Don't sell yourself short."
He grinned at that saying: "Short wasn't the problem. He blamed himself for having such a tight ass."
"Maybe he should attend the spa and learn how to stretch himself with a butt plug."
"He wanted to but couldn't get the time off...but that's a great idea. I'll give him a set and see what happens."
Jose came by and handed out cock pumps to everyone but Tom. "You've already stretched your dicks from the inside," he said. "Now it's time to stretched from the outside. I'm sure most of you have used a pump before, but I'll illustrate the technique anyway." He then lubed up his penis and stroked it several times to get it semi hard. "You don't want to get a full hardon," he explained while lubing the rim of the clear cylinder. "The pump will do that for you." He then attached a plastic hose to top of the cylinder. The other end was attached to a pistol grip with a pressure meter. He inserted his penis into the pump and squeezed it tight against his pubes while squeezing the pistol grip. "I'll bring it up to a reading of five," he said as his cock started to inflate. "You don't want to overpump. Just let it grow from the pressure...ah, feels nice."
We followed his instructions, Steve and Ric included, as we pumped up to larger than usual erections caused by the pulling sensations from within. He told us to leave the pumps on for ten minutes, followed by a break to refresh the blood supply, and then begin another session at slightly higher pressure. Once pumped up we could detached the hose and start milking our cocks by twisting and pulling on the cylinder. This would, he informed us, also cause our urethras to expand and produce pre-cum. "You'll also notice," he continued, "after a pumping session you'll have what's called a 'doughnut' - which is a swelling of skin just behind the head. The effect is temporary and lasts no more than an hour or so. Some guys think it's gross; others like it because it gives them a larger package to show off when cruising. In any case the skin around the head is very sensitive following a good pump. You'll also find that it's a good time to use a sound since the pee slit will be wide open."
After finishing the third set we were told to return to our rooms for a shower and rest. With the hoses detached we got up, pumps still on, and went across the courtyard looking like a herd of elephants with enormous cock trunks that wiggled as we walked.
Back in our room we removed the pumps and admired their handiwork. I'd developed the doughnut Jose had warned about which hadn't appeared while in the pump. It was a puffiness behind the glans and made my penis feel heavy. Steve's entire shaft seemed swollen with only the tip of his head peeking out from what looked like hot dog roll...good enough to eat. I don't think my 'doughnut' looked especially appetizing but it sure as hell felt sensitive to the touch. Steve stopped me from masturbating, explaining that I should save it for later and not to worry about the doughnut. It wouldn't last more than a few hours and would give me a nice looking package. Jose had told him that Dr. Lerner and Harry Parkhurst, the guy from England, would be arriving in time for lunch. We stretched out on the bed and were content to view our bodies in the ceiling mirror. I can say without boasting that what we saw were two guys celebrating their maleness with pride. Even one day had the spa had transformed us from middle-aged sexual has-beens into explorers of a new world of virility. That's not to say that the morning's training sessions hadn't drained us of some energy. We napped for I don't know how long, hand in hand I should add, until the TV screen again flashed on to announce lunch, at which we were to appear in fresh scrubs.
"Sounds a bit formal," I said stretching my arms overhead.
Tickling my pits with a finger he replied: "I heard the British guy is some kind of bigshot. That's why Dr. Lerner went to meet him in person. Later on there's going to be a pool party. In the nude you can't tell who's a bigshot and who isn't."
"...or a Democrat from a Republican," I added as we started to dress.
As we passed through the lobby to the dining room I saw the jeep parked at the entrance. Our final member had evidently arrived. Eight places were set at the round table. The phallic candle had been replaced with an enormous fruit bowl with bananas pointing toward each of eight place settings. An assortment of tropical fruits completed the display. There were several pitchers of beer on the table and at the left of each setting was a linen napkin secured by a gold ring. It didn't take much imagination to think of an alternate use for the object. All heads turned as Dr. Lerner entered with the last guest.
"Buenas tardes," he said smiling broadly. "My friend encountered some transportation delays but arrived safely and is anxious to meet you. Please welcome Harry Postwick."
Harry quickly dissolved the formality of his introduction by going to each man with an enthusiastic handshake. Wearing khacki shorts that displayed muscled and hairy legs, and a safari jacket that matched the color of his blue eyes, he exuded a spirit of adventure... no doubt enhanced by his British accent and a two day's growth of beard, which like his receding hairline was more pepper than salt. I'd place his age mid fifties at most. He then took a seat between Dr. Lerner and Jose. After we all filled our glasses Dr. Lerner explained that Harry was an anthropologist who specialized in ethnosexology.
"A rather exotic field of study," he said, "but quite interesting. His research has shed light on ancient sexual customs that have remained buried along with their practitioners in all but a handful of what most would today consider primitive cultures. His findings are not only of historical interest but can serve to teach us awareness of our own sexuality in reaching our full male potential."
Once again Harry broke Dr. Lerner's penchant for wordiness with a slight wink of his blue eyes directed at us as he raised his glass and said: Well chaps, here's to homo sapiens past, present and future." His emphasis on the word 'homo' drew some laughter (and a trace of embarrassment on Dr. Lerner's face). "I should add," he continued more seriously, "that primitive sex beliefs were based on myth and superstition. Some of their practices were highly erotic while others were cruel and barbaric. While singing teachers no long cut off their students' balls to create tenors who can hit the high notes, circumcision is still practiced in many cultures as a religious or medical ritual ordained by modern shamans. We don't have to gaze into a crystal ball to find the answer to our sexuality. It's already programmed into our genes waiting to be discovered.
"I think we've all gazed into balls of one kind or another," Dr. Lerner added wryly. "I've been applying some of Harry's findings here at the spa in an attempt to bring about a meeting place of science and mythology. You men have already entered that meeting place in the training exercises performed earlier today. After lunch Harry will give us a slide presentation of his field work. This evening Jose and Manuel will illustrate some of them in a performance I'm sure you'll enjoy."
As we ate lunch it occurred to me that everything at the spa had been a mixture of the formal with the informal...a yin-yang ambiance where a redneck farmer, British anthropologist, yankee businessman and a retired senior citizen could reach a unique bonding with a latin narcissist, a shy guy with a big penis from California and the mysterious Dr. Lerner. Even the table setting was a juxtaposition of beer mugs with fine linens. What had brought us to the spa was a curiosity about sex by guys who'd thought they knew everything about it. Maybe it was a mid life crisis we shared. One thing was certain, and I think I can speak for all the guys, even one day at the spa had produced psychological as well as physical changes in our minds and sex organs, as if stretching our minds along with our cocks and asses to accept the new and explore the unknown.
While Harry and Dr. Lerner set up the slide projector Manuel served after dinner drinks similar to the one I had on our arrival. The taste was more intense and had an unusual flavor suggesting banana and cinnamon...an odd combination but nevertheless delicious. Our glasses were refilled several times during the presentation.
The first slides were of Spanish bullfighters and focused on closeup views that showed their crotches prominently displayed in tight-fitting pants. "This intended to show the bull who's got the balls," Harry explained. "The bull, of course, is well known for its virility. In ancient cultures hunters often ate the testicles of wild animals in the belief that in so doing they would be infused with the creature's strength. A brotherhood of toreros believed that drinking the semen of a bull would guarantee victory in the bullring. I might add that the bull was not a willing donor."
The next slides showed two men - one a youth, the other much older - tied upright to adjacent totem poles, their legs spread apart and tied to ground stakes. A third man, who Harry explained was the tribal shaman, performed fallatio on the young man to initiate an erection. When he was hard the shaman retracted the foreskin and rubbed the sensitive area behind the glans until precum appeared in the slit. "At this point," Harry explained, "the urethra is thoroughly lubricated and ready to receive a sound...which in this case was a hollow reed. So the use of sounds has been around in one form or other since ancient times. The next part is tricky but this shaman was an expert in what we call 'injaculation.' Some of you at one time or other may have not wanted to ejaculate and pressed on the dorsal side of the urethra to prevent an ejaculation, thus forcing the semen back into the prostate and bladder."
The next slide showed the shaman inserting the hollow reed into the pee slit. According to Harry, when the young man was about to ejaculate the shaman sucked on the protruding end of the straw until he tasted the first drops of cum, then blocked the reed with his tongue to prevent the semen from escaping. "This is a good example of a primitive sperm bank. Quite ingenious I'd say."
Tom raised his hand and asked: "So what did he do with the cum? There was no way to freeze it."
"No need to," Harry replied. "This was a direct transfusion."
The following slide showed the shaman holding both ends of the reed with his fingers. He then went over to the older man who already sported an erection in anticipation of what was to follow. The shaman inserted the reed into his slit a good seven inches before taking the other end in his mouth. After inhaling deeply he blew into the reed forcing the young guys still warm semen into the recipient. To prove the procedure had been successful the shaman withdrew the reed and held it up proudly. There wasn't a drop of cum left!
"That was interesting," Tom said, "but what's the purpose?
"Like with the bull," Harry replied, "it was believed that an infusion of fresh semen from a young man would make the recipient more virile. The ceremony was usually completed by the two men dancing together to the accompaniment of drums."
John clapped his hands and exclaimed: "Boy I've got to try that! You think it really works?"
"Only if you want it to," Dr. Lerner broke in. "It's the placebo effect. A pill may be nothing more than compressed sugar, but if you believe it will have a medicinal effect it may cure whatever ails you. In the nineteenth century snake oil salesmen became wealthy selling their potients to the masses. Today we have all sorts of over-the-counter remedies for everything from constipation to erectile dysfuntion. What we don't know about the relation between psychology and physiology would fill a book."
"God, what was in that drink?" Steve asked rubbing his crotch. "It's made me horny."
"Only if you think it did," Lerner replied with a grin. "It was actually an experiment I've been doing involving the taste of semen. We know that what you eat can effect it's taste. Some find it sharp and unpleasant while others describe it as sweet or salty. I hope to find a way to make it universally appealing and will rely on your findings to help in this study."
"Cum in six different flavors!" Steve laughed. "Just like yogurt. You're gonna be a billionaire if it works."
Whether it was the drink or the sight of the tent in Steve's pants, I was determined to get another taste of him regardless of the flavor.