Dinner Invitation

It was a complete male package, cut off deep into the crotch and nicely roasted, with a couple of sprigs of parsley on the side. With his other hand, he jerked off the jock strap, exposing a long, vertical red streak where his male organs had been.

"Wow, you really did it."

"Yup. It was a cinch with the laser cutter." He was almost beside himself with glee. "The scar will be barely visible when it's healed."

I looked over his slender, hairless body. Before he cut them off, his genitals, including 9 inches of almost constantly erect penis, had dominated it. Now he looked curiously chaste.

"You look great," I said, and meant it. Something about his clean, smooth crotch was very erotic. He still looked male, somehow. Still a handsome cuss.

He set the plate on his dining table, which was set for two, with a white tablecloth, flowers in the middle and a silver bucket holding a bottle of wine.

"Take off your clothes and let's eat."

I complied. As I pulled off my jeans, my circumcised penis shot up like a spring and stood rigid. The glans was already slick with precum. I felt very self conscious. The display I was making was so gross compared to Eric's new sleekness.

"Wow, we've really got to do something about this thing," he said, stroking it lightly with his fingertips. Just that much almost made me ejaculate. His fingers moved down and he grasped my balls, squeezing not too gently. I kept my crotch area carefully shaved, and my scrotum was smooth in his grip.

"These are obviously ripe. What say we harvest them after dinner?"

Any other time, I might have objected. But I was so aroused that I couldn't think.

"Okay."

"In the meantime, let's give you a little relief."

He dropped to one knee and took my swollen cockhead into his mouth, tonguing it expertly as his lips moved up and down the shaft. In moments, he had deep-throated the whole length of it. I gasped with ecstacy, thrust my hips forward and grasped the back of his head, fingers digging into his neatly trimmed brown hair. I tried to prolong it, but the urgency instantly became unbearable when I glanced over at his roasted genitals waiting on the table. My semen erupted down his throat, over and over, and I let out a howl that the neighbors must have heard. He swallowed greedily.

He continued sucking as the orgasm played itself out, then slowly relinquished my cock. He brushed my balls again with his fingers.

"Yep, definitely ripe."

I grinned weakly.

"I'm going to pop this in the microwave," he said, picking up the meat, and disappeared into the kitchen.

I rolled my balls in my palm, enjoying the feel of the hard orbs through the smooth, warm skin of the ball sac, and thought about my snap agreement to let Eric take them. My softening penis stirred and began to stiffen again. Apparently it liked the idea.

Eric emerged from the kitchen carrying a chilled metal bowl with green salad and a covered dish, which he put on the table, and returned for the meat. After a couple minutes, I heard the microwave ding, and he came out again with the plate of roasted male genitals, now steaming, and another small bowl.

We sat down at the table and he poured the wine.

"I don't have any idea what the connoisseurs would recommend for roast cock and balls," he said. "So I used my own judgment and picked red."

I laughed. "I wonder what the French would say."

The covered dish held scalloped potatoes. The little one . . .

"Semen sauce," Eric said. "I thought it would be appropriate. I jacked off over and over for a couple of days to get it, then mixed the cum with a packaged lemon sauce."

He sounded a little uncertain about what I would think of this. I laughed again. "I always liked the taste of your cum," I said.

Eric and I had been suck-and-fuck buddies until he saw this pic of a young nullified guy with a smooth crotch on some Internet site and became obsessed with the idea of getting rid of his own out-sized package, which he found embarrassing both because of it's size and because his cock was always getting hard at inappropriate times. We were in line for tickets to a movie one time, and Eric's cock reacted to the shapely, tight-jeans-clad ass of the teenager ahead of us in line, poked out of his briefs and tented his pants. He was mortified.

He sliced off the glans of his roasted penis-–the big, mushroom type-–and forked it onto my plate.

"The best piece for my best buddy," he said, reddening a little.

I was touched. I was also rock hard again, my own dick poking into the tablecloth. I smiled, said, "Thanks, man," spooned some of the semen sauce on it and sliced off a small piece. To my surprise, it was delicious, and I said so, Eric beamed.

We spent the meal joking and laughing. Eric was obviously very pleased with himself and the modifications he had made to his body. He served me half of his cockshaft, slicing it up into thin medallions, and one of his testicles. The cockshaft was a bit tough and gamy, but the testicle was delicious covered with the sauce it had helped produce. As I ate it, I wondered what mine would taste like, and my cock got so hard it poked up above the edge of the tabletop. I could have ejaculated again just by rubbing the glans on the tablecloth, but by now, the idea was in the back of my mind to let Eric have the whole works, to do what he liked with it, and I didn't want to do anything that might diminish his fun.

With all the meat eaten, and the wine polished off, Eric put some music on, cleared the table, and brought out some coffee. I settled in one of his easy chairs, relaxed and aroused at the same time, admiring his tight, boyish butt as he went back and forth to the kitchen.

When he had tidied up to his satisfaction, he sat down across from me.

"You want to harvest the nuts now, or wait awhile?"

"Now," I said. I was actually eager. "What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. Just relax."

He brought out a heavy, green plastic drop cloth and had me get up while he arranged it in the chair, then sat me down again. The chair was the Lazy Boy kind that adjusts from upright to almost flat. He adjusted it half way.

"Lay back." I complied, slid forward in the chair, put my hands flat on the chair arms and spread my knees to give him full access to my crotch. "Perfect, he said. Do you want anaesthetic?"

"I think I want the pain," I said, surprising myself. My rigid cock was lying against my stomach, my testicles drawn up against the base, bulging roundly in the scrotum. I stared at them in admiration, noting the natural "seam" down the middle of the sac, and the wrinkled pinkness of the skin, which I saw was slowly crawling. Eric was right, they were like perfectly ripe fruit. I reached down and brushed them with my fingertips, making the sensitive skin tingle, then put my hand back on the chair arm and smiled at him.

"They're all yours."

Eric smiled back, grasped my balls with his left hand, and gently, with no more pressure than was necessary, twisted them back and forth and pulled them out at the same time, stretching the scrotum. This tightened the skin on my cockshaft, pulling it down from the glans. I pushed up with my hips, fighting not to cum.

Still holding my balls, he picked up an implement with his right hand that he had laid by the chair when he brought out the green plastic. It had a trailing electric cord.

"The laser cutter," he said, holding it up. "Perfect for minor surgery. It's what I used for mine."

I just nodded, concentrating on suppressing the insistent sweet, urgent itch in the root of my penis.

He twisted my ball sac tight, pulled on it hard, and brought up the cutter. Anticipating, I sucked in my breath. There was a glimmer of violet light from the tip of the cutter, and sudden sharp pain, accompanied by the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced or imagined. I howled as semen shot from my penis in rapid pulses, splattering hotly on my stomach, chest and face.

While the orgasm lasted, it was the only thing in my universe. As it begin to subside, I realized I had stopped breathing and took a deep shuddery breath. Eric was holding up my scrotum, with the balls inside, by the cut end and grinning from ear to ear. I looked down to see a surprisingly small wound at the base of my penis. The laser had apparently cauterized as it cut and there was almost no blood.

"Wow!" I said. "Fuckin' cool."

"Hold your hand out," he said, and put my balls in it. The still warm scrotum felt almost the same to my fingers as it had when attached. I rolled the balls around inside, fascinated all over again.

"Too bad we can't do it again," I said.

"That's the way I felt."

I lifted my cock on my fingers. The head was slick with cum.

I didn't know what I was going to say until I said it. "We can still take this off, though."

Eric grinned from ear to ear.

"All RIGHT!" he said.

My dick was starting to get hard again.

"Better do it quick," I said, and laughed. "I don't know if I can stand another orgasm like that last one."

"So let's free you from that."

He pulled my rapidly swelling cock out by the head, stretching it, and applied the business end of the laser cutter where it joined my body at the base of my flat belly.

"Ready?"

"When you are."

Again there was a moment of intense pain, overlaid, to my astonishment, by another orgasm. It was weaker than the last one, but I saw semen squirt from the head an instant before my cock came came free. Eric held the severed organ up for me to see.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, man!"

I took it from his hand, struck by how big it looked all by itself, and dangled it from the head. "Catch," I said, and tossed it at him. He caught it and tossed it back, laughing, picked up the balls and tossed those at me. I grabbed and missed and they fell on my stomach. His laughter was infectious and I started laughing too. I picked the balls up, heaved myself out of the chair, and tossed cock and balls back at him in rapid succession.

We continued to toss them back and forth, laughing like mad, until we fell into each others' arms. He kissed me, sticking his tongue into my mouth, and I returned the kiss with gusto.

"Where's the balls?" I gasped when we broke.

He scooped them up from the table where they fallen. "Raw?" he asked, guessing my intent.

"Raw!" I took the scrotum and pulled out one testicle. I held it up, dangling from the cord, and bit it off. It tasted, surprise, like raw meat. But I chewed it up with gusto and swallowed it.

I held the scrotum with its remaining testicle out to Eric.

"Why not?" he said, and followed my example.

He got out another bottle of wine and we drank it while he patched up my crotch. Then, because I was so high both from the wine and my sexual liberation, he insisted I stay the night, which we spent snuggling in his bed.

It had been the best dinner invitation I ever had.