Peter's Gift, Part II

The next step in an unusual love affair.

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Peter’s Gift, Part II  --  By Eric S.  

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As I removed the gag, I slipped into the bed next to Peter and 
snuggled into his body.  Both of us stared at the still hard penis 
laying on his chest. . . . . . . .

END PART I

Peter’s body was completely motionless for what seems like an 
eternity, but eventually, he took a deep breath and whispered in my 
ear, "Thank you, Kevin."  My arms were wrapped tightly around his 
torso, my face pressed gently against his.  As I raised myself up on 
one arm, I looked into his eyes for the first time, and that 
gentleness and peace which had first made me fall in love had 
returned. "I love you, Peter, with all of my heart and soul.  Now you 
are mine forever."  We kissed deeply and passionately for the first 
time in weeks, and it became clear to me that I had done the right 
thing.  But there was still the health matter to be concerned with – 
I had no idea if his stump would get infected, and we both knew that 
he couldn’t seek medical attention for this wound.  There had to be 
some other alternative.


After about fifteen minutes, the anesthetic I had given Peter began 
to take effect, and he drifted into a deep, contented sleep.  He 
deserved it after everything he had been through, but there was still 
a lot to be done.  Before I began to untie the straps holding his 
arms and legs to the bedposts, I quickly cut off the excess catheter 
and washed the end of his stump with antiseptic solution.  Once he 
was untied and clean, I applied a bandage to his crotch, cutting a 
small hole in the fiber to allow the catheter to reach the outside.  
It was then that his penis again caught my eye.  It was still resting 
on his chest, but after all this time, it had deflated to its flaccid 
state.  Just a couple of inches of soft skin and tissue, a forlorn 
manhood without a master.  I knew that Peter would not want to think 
of it again once he awoke, but I felt that it deserved some memorial, 
some special resting place.  I picked it up and cradled it gently in 
my hands, brushing the now purple head with my lips.

After pulling the covers up snugly around Peter’s sleeping form, I 
slipped on my shirt and coat and headed for the door.  The quick walk 
to the university gardens took only a few minutes, but I glanced 
around in every direction fearful that someone might guess the 
contents of my right fist.  Once I arrived at the gardens, I walked 
slowly around the paths trying to find just the right spot.  Finally, 
I came upon a bed of rose bushes – they were still dormant from the 
winter, but soon they would be in full bloom, a centerpiece of the 
verdant display.  With my left hand, I dug about a foot deep between 
two of the rear bushes and laid the penis there.  As I covered the 
hole, I whispered, "Goodbye old friend.  I always loved you, too, but 
you came between my mate and his happiness.  Rest well."

Peter’s recovery was my first priority, though, so I couldn’t rest 
long there thinking about what I had done.  An idea was forming in my 
head as to how I could surreptitiously obtain medical care for the 
wound.  Just beyond the garden was a dumpster around which were 
strewn cigarette wrappers and empty beer bottles and cans.  I grabbed 
one of the bottles and broke it on the side of the brick walk.  Me 
left shoe slid off easily enough, and with closed eyes, I pressed the 
broken glass into the meat of my heel.   The two inch cut hurt like 
hell, but I rushed the best I could to the infirmary where I was 
given a few stitches, a bottle of ointment, bandages, and a 
prescription for antibiotics.  I hobbled to Sherman Street and filled 
the script before rushing back to the dorm.

Peter was still asleep when I returned, but he awoke as soon as I 
pulled back the covers to investigate his cut.  He kissed me groggily 
as I propped his head on a few pillows then fell back to sleep.  I 
removed the bandage and applied the ointment and fresh pads.  There 
had been minimal leakage from the cut in the hours I was gone, and 
the rubber tourniquet remained tight and solid.  With any luck, the 
rubber would hold for a week or two while Peter’s body healed 
itself.  Then that small flap of tissue on the end would fall off 
leaving a reformed piss-hole where the catheter exited.   I slipped 
off my clothes, woke Pete briefly to take a couple of antibiotics, 
and crawled back into the warm bed beside him.  Before I knew it, the 
pressure of that long night passed into sleep.

As the sun slowly crept up the brick wall of my dorm room, I awoke 
still holding Peter close to me.  He was already awake, and as I 
sleepily looked into his eyes I was content myself for the first time 
in months.  Over the next few weeks, things progressed very nicely.  
After only a few days, Pete felt up to returning to class, but I made 
him wear a cup to avoid any chance of injury.  He had a new lease on 
life and engaged his studies with a newfound determination.  While 
our sex life was seemingly on permanent hold, our relationship 
blossomed.  We became closer than I ever though possible – we shared 
everything in our daily lives, our pasts, and our dreams and hopes 
for the future.  For some reason, our hours of snuggling were more 
than enough to sate my physical desires.

His cut healed nicely – I don’t know if that was due to the 
antibiotics or not, but within two weeks, the ring of tissue beyond 
the rubber fell off in his sleep.  The resulting stump appeared a 
very health pink, and when we removed the catheter Peter suffered no 
discomfort while peeing and no loss of bladder control.  The stump 
was quite a bit smaller than I had expected given where I had made 
the cut, but I guess I’d not figured into the equation the fact that 
more than an inch of tissue would be falling off later.  Once he was 
fully healed, the stump was normally camouflaged completely in the 
soft bed of dark blond pubic hair that decorated Peter’s groin.   
When standing he resembled one of those ancient statues of Apollo 
where the penis had been chipped off by Victorian archeologists.   
Our lives had become as idyllic as his form.

One night, about six weeks after my birthday, Peter and I had been 
studying all evening and settled into the bed.  As we were snuggling 
the aroma and feel of his body quickly gave me an erection as it 
always had, but this night instead of merely enjoying our emotional 
intimacy, Peter wrapped his hand around my member and began to 
stroke.  Without thought, we indulged our desires, kissing and 
rubbing more urgently as the night wore on.  Pete slipped down my 
body and quickly took me in his mouth.  Within seconds my cock was 
pulsing with rhythmic ecstasy as I filled his mouth with my seed.  As 
I attempted to reciprocate, we discovered that Peter’s stump was 
without sexual feeling, but as I slipped my mouth lower to his balls 
and pucker, he began to writhe in pleasure.  Each time my tongue 
flicked past the wrinkled skin of his hole, moans escaped Pete’s 
lips.  After only a few minutes Peter gasped, "I cumming!"  I quickly 
began to work his hole with my fingers as my mouth moved to his stump 
to catch his seed, but instead of a spurting flood only a steady 
drool of silky fluid came out.  As I looked into Peter’s eyes, a mask 
of total surprise took form on his face.  I then realized that his 
hips were still thrusting against my hand, that his stump was still 
dribbling seed, and it had been fifteen minutes since his orgasm had 
begun.  Peter’s body was glistening with sweat, and his balls were so 
tight to his body they looked like they were trying to crawl back 
inside.  Finally, Peter cried out, "I can’t take any more!"

As I embraced him fully, his body shuddered and became limp in my 
arms.  "Kevin," he said breathlessly, "I’ve never even thought. . . . 
That could have lasted for hours I think. . . .  But it got too 
intense. . . . Like my entire body. . . .  Was rippling with pricks 
of pleasure."  As I gently rubbed his nipples, his body shuddered 
again with rigid pleasure.  "Oh yes," was all he could manage as I 
continued to grind his nipple between my fingers.   But after another 
few minutes, he couldn’t take any more stimulation.

Over the next few days as we re-explored our physical connection, we 
discovered that almost every spot on his body other than his stump 
could bring him to extended orgasm.  Our favorite love making 
involved me fucking him – that way we could both enjoy the experience 
simultaneously.  As soon as I entered him, his body would tense with 
pleasure, and each thrust of my hips would send him into convulsions 
of ecstasy.  I soon learned how to last for up to an hour while 
fucking him, but an hour was the most he could take.  His body became 
so wrapped up in these intense sensations that each love making 
session left him on the verge of complete exhaustion.  I was amazed 
and very pleased to find that Peter was again able to enjoy a 
physical relationship.

While our sex life and emotional relationship were the best they had 
ever been, our lives had regained some sense of routine.  It was now 
May, and the summer was too quickly approaching.  Peter and I came 
from different parts of the country and we had been unable to find 
any excuse to stay together during the summer.  Neither of us was out 
to our parents or friends, and neither of us was ready to take that 
step.  Peter was afraid of his parents reactions – he was afraid that 
if they found out he had a lover, they would disown him and he’d no 
longer be able to afford school.  I wasn’t really worried about my 
family’s reaction, but my father was quite ill and I didn’t want to 
burden him with having to deal with my sexuality during his 
sickness.  Our concerns centered mainly on the mere fact of our 
sexuality – God forbid that anyone find out about what we had done.

Finally, our last exams were turned in and it was time for us to say 
our temporary good-byes.  The next day, each of us would head a 
different direction, but tonight was ours to be together.  We went to 
dinner at a nice, romantic restaurant on Sherman Street and returned 
to my room with a bottle of wine.  The room was covered with packed 
boxes that I would have to lug to the storage area first thing in the 
morning, and our bags were packed by the door.  The windows were open 
on this hot May night, and the soft scent of jasmine floated in the 
window as we settled on the bare mattress of our bed.  We sat and 
talked for hours as we passed the bottle back and forth, but soon the 
hands on my watch approached midnight, and we slowly began to undress.

As our naked forms began to intertwine on the rough cotton of the 
mattress, our eyes met, and we knew that each of us fully belonged 
with the other.  As my penis entered him, our souls became one.  The 
moist tightness of him sucked with each pulse of our bodies making my 
cock more rigid with each breath.  Soon, our bodies gleamed with 
wetness as those precious minutes of pleasure ticked by.  With each 
thrust of my hips, Peter called out my name, no longer experiencing 
any reality but our love.  Our continuing love making produced a 
slick of Peter’s cum and our sweat between us, and I gave into the 
raw sensuousness of our bodies sliding and rubbing.  I couldn’t quite 
imagine what it was that Peter felt when his orgasm covered all of 
his flesh, but our love making that night gave me a sense of it.  
Peter grasped my hands in his as I approached climax, and we stared 
into each others eyes as I finally had my own intense orgasm.  Once 
my seed had pumped itself completely into Peter, we collapsed into 
each other, falling asleep without thought or word.

****************************************************

That night I had the first in a long series of dreams that grew more 
unusual and more urgent in my subconscious.  Seemingly the instant I 
lost consciousness, I was whisked to another place and time.  I was 
standing naked in an open field of lavender.  Though the sun beat 
down intensely, a gentle breeze cooled my naked skin.  I was utterly 
alone in the wilderness, but for some reason, I felt surrounded, as 
if I were in a place of sanctuary where those pursuing me could not 
reach me, but I felt them around me nonetheless.  As I slowly 
adjusted to the environs of the dreamscape, I realized that not only 
was I naked, but that I was fully erect, painfully so.  At first, I 
tried to ignore it – what a time to need to beat off, when some 
presence was after me, surrounding me.

I began to walk towards the edge of the glade, towards the trees, in 
a hope of finding some escape from my pursuers.  Soon, I realized 
that wasn’t getting any closer to the trees, so I began to run.  
Still I wasn’t getting any closer to the trees, but I could feel my 
pursuers getting closer – the urgency of escape grew geometrically.   
I was running at full speed, sweating, exhausted, in pain, in panic, 
when I tripped on a stone.  As I fell, everything started to move in 
slow motion.  In a second,  I could sense every aspect of my body, my 
aching muscles and feet, my pounding heart, my rank sweat covered 
skin, and my now throbbing cock.  Once I again noticed the urgency in 
my loins, my fall resumed in regular speed.  But instead of falling 
into the hard ground, I fell into a soft body.

All of a sudden, I was in the back seat of my father’s old Buick 
Regal.  As I raised my head, I realized this was the night I had lost 
my virginity to a girl.  Beth Crenshaw lay beneath me and was madly 
trying to hike up her dress.  My jeans were already undone and my 
cock was poking out from under the tail of my shirt.  She grabbed it 
with he hand and guided me down into her pussy.  She was very wet, 
and as I slid inside I realized that I had no control over my body.  
I could feel everything that I felt that night, but I had no power to 
stop what was happening.  I was repulsed by what was happening, but I 
could feel my hips thrusting and hear her moaning, and I could feel 
her silky canal milking me.  Even though that first night I had cum 
in about three humps, after what seemed an eternity, I was still 
humping to no avail.  Beth was no longer moaning in pleasure, but 
begging me to stop.

Within a beat of my heart, I was again standing in the middle of the 
field, still feeling my pursuer closing in.  Seemingly, nothing had 
changed.  I was naked, erect, and exactly where I had started.  I 
began to think about alternative ways to get out of the field and out 
of view of my pursuers, and devised a plan.  I would camouflage 
myself with dirt and lavender to make myself blend in with the 
field.  I would have to lay perfectly still, but it might work.  
Quickly, I began to cover myself with earth and picking long stalks 
of the herb to tie around my arms and legs.  Within minutes, I was 
done and laying still, hoping to avoid detection.  I knew right away 
that it wasn’t working – I could still feel them looking at me.  So I 
glanced around my bed trying to find anything that might be giving me 
away – just as quickly, I found it.  My cock was still erect and 
jutting out from my supine form.  I was at least three feet long and 
bright red, like a beacon for anyone search the field.  Shit, what 
could I do?  I tried turning over, but I couldn’t get the damn thing 
to lay against my stomach.  My only alternative was to jerk off and 
deflate it.

As sat up and took it in my hand, it returned to normal size, but it 
was still hard, so I started jerking.  The more I jerked, the harder 
it got, the more painful it became.  It wasn’t exactly pain, it was 
an urgency so intense that it became painful.  Normally it only took 
me a minute or two to jerk off when I wanted to make it quick, but 
for some reason, the no matter how much I jerked it, I couldn’t cum.  
It felt so good, but I knew I was in danger.  I just didn’t have time 
to be rubbing my cock while my pursuers were closing in, but I 
couldn’t stop.  Both my hand and cock were becoming raw and I could 
feel blisters forming, but events were in equilibrium – I couldn’t 
change anything.

Just as quickly as I had shifted into my dad’s Regal, I shifted and 
was in my dorm room at school.  Peter was under me, and I was fucking 
him hard.  Not a soft love making, but an angry fucking.  I could 
tell this was the first night we had made love many months ago, but 
somehow the night was different.  Peter was crying out in pain as I 
fucked him, but again I had no control over my body.  I was just an 
observer of this warped history.  Finally after what seemed hours, I 
pulled out of Peter and started jerking off.  My penis was covered in 
his blood and he was crying into his pillow, but I swung my legs off 
the bed and kept single-mindedly stroking myself.

Then I was back in the field.  Clean of the dirt and shrub, I was 
standing in the middle of the field.  I could only see them in my 
peripheral vision, and only for an instant, but my pursuers were 
getting closer, circling around me.  By this time I was madly trying 
to beat myself off, the skin on my cock almost non-existent.   I was 
using my finger nails to get more sensation in the now consuming 
attempt to cum before my pursuers arrived.  As I dug deeper and 
deeper into the flesh of my cock, there was no pain from the physical 
damage, only the pain of the urgency to cum.  Finally, my nails 
ripped through the last sinews at the base of my cock and it came off 
in my hand with a flood and blood and semen.  I looked around and my 
pursuers were gone – as I looked down, Peter lay before me, and it 
was his penis that I had rip off with my hands.  He lay serenely 
smiling at me in his way.  It was then that I noticed my penis was 
fully intact and flaccid, but the feel of Peter’s penis in my hands 
was exciting me and my cock was growing.  


As my cock became fully erect again, I could hear the scraping and 
scuffling of my pursuers returning.  Peter sat up and took my cock in 
his hand, "Let me help you, Kevin."  With that he took me in his 
mouth and began sucking me off.  The slippery feel of his tongue and 
lips on my throbbing penis almost instantly sent me over the edge.  
Again, time slowed to a snail’s pace.  As my fist spurt of cum 
splashed on the back of his throat, though, my pleasure was mixed 
with agony.  Peter’s teeth were crushing their way though the shaft 
of my penis.  My first reaction was to beg him to stop because the 
pain was horrendous and I was terrified of losing my manhood.  But 
within a few heart beats the pleasure of my orgasm took me away and I 
whispered, "Please Peter, chew it off, eat my cock, save me. . . . "  
As I felt the last tissues snap loose, I fell into his arms.  I knew 
the ordeal was over, and that I was safe.



**************************************************



The next morning, when I awoke, Peter was already dressed and 
organizing his things.  He had to catch a cab in the next few minutes 
to make his flight.  I Still had a few hours to pack our stuff away 
in storage and start my drive home.  We kissed, hugged and said our 
tearful good-byes.  Peter was gone before I knew it and I was left to 
pull myself together for what I had to do to get ready for my own 
travels.  I hadn’t mentioned my dream to Peter, and I didn’t even 
know what to make of it myself.  With the hustle-bustle of the day’s 
activities and the long drive ahead of me, I didn’t give it another 
thought.  I was too worried about how I was going to make it three 
months without Peter.



To make a long story a little shorter, the summer passed without 
major event.  I worked at a construction sight back home – it was 
tiring work, but it paid well and kept me in really good shape.  It 
was good to be home, and I enjoyed the summer for what it was, my 
last summer with family.  My libido was nil during those months.  I’m 
not sure that I masturbated a total of a dozen times the whole 
summer, but I was always longing to get back to Peter and our life 
together.  I had continued to have some really bizarre dreams, but 
they were infrequent and I had become used to them.  All of the 
dreams took the same form, I was being chased and my penis kept 
giving me away.  My only salvation was having it removed, usually by 
Peter.  I really didn’t think much about them at the time, and when I 
did I figured they were just some manifestation of my guilt for 
cutting off Peter’s penis.  I rationalized that guilt away by 
thinking of how much happier he was now that his most ultimate desire 
had been fulfilled.  



When it came time to return to school, I was just as giddy as could 
be.  I could hardly contain my excitement over seeing Peter again – 
it was all set up:  We would be living together in a two bedroom 
dorm.  I felt like a prospective groom about to see his soon to be 
spouse again after a long separation.  During my long drive back to 
school, all I could think about was falling into Peter’s arms and 
holding him like a drowning man holds a life preserver.



It was a bright blue September afternoon when I pulled off of Sherman 
street into the parking lot behind our new dorm.  Peter was supposed 
to have arrived the day before, and since I had pack our stuff away, 
he was going to get it out of storage.  I dashed up the stairs and 
down the hall to room 314.  As I threw open the doors, Peter was 
lying on the bed asleep.  The boxes were all still piled up in the 
common room, but he had started to unpack the bedroom stuff.  I guess 
he’d gotten tuckered out after carrying all of the junk up three 
flights of stairs.  He was a sleeping Adonis laying there in a sweaty 
t-shirt and a  pair of dark green basketball shorts.  I immediately 
noticed the flatness of his bulge and smiled to myself.  As I tip-
toed across the room, a creaking board awoke Peter, and he jumped up 
to greet me.  "Kevin, it’s so good to see you," he murmured as our 
lips met.  Before either of us new it, we were making out heatedly on 
the bed.  I had one hand down his shorts fingering his hole and he 
had one down mine stroking gently.



I pulled back gently,  "Hey, Peter, we have a whole year to play 
around, tell me about your summer and how you are doing!"



"It wasn’t too bad, though my Mom can be a real witch.  Work at the 
hospital was a lot of fun, and I’m sure I want to be a doctor now.  
But it was all hell being separated from my widdle Kevy."   I jumped 
on him and started tickling him all over, and before we knew it we 
were giving in to our original impulse.  Within a few minutes, our 
clothes were in the middle of the floor.  Peter was irresistible, and 
my tongue was flitting all over his sweaty body trying to lick his 
essence up.  Even before the cut, Peter had been sensitive to 
licking, but now this was magnified, especially after our absence.  
As I was sucking the scented sweat of his pits, Peter began flex and 
moan in ecstasy.  I pulled his legs over my shoulders and slowly 
pressed myself inside.  This sent him into the convulsions of orgasm, 
and they continued for nearly a half hour.  When finally we said he’d 
had enough, I began concentrating on my own orgasm.  To my surprise, 
I couldn’t cum.  After a frantic three more minutes of humping, I 
finally faked it, tensing my ass and humping hard three or four times 
like I was shooting.



I pulled out and fell down next to Peter, and it was obvious he 
hadn’t noticed the difference.  He rolled on top of me and kissed me 
deeply.  "Hey, you’re still up for more, aren’t you, Kevin?"  My cock 
was still hard and Peter went down on it.  I indulged the pleasure 
for a few minutes, but try as I might, I still couldn’t cum.  
Finally, I pulled Peter off my cock.  "Pete, these boxes aren’t going 
to unpack themselves, " I said as I tickled him.  He seemed satisfied 
that I’d had enough and we both began setting up our new room.  The 
work was tough, but we finally plugged in the last stereo components 
and TV and fell on the couch exhausted around midnight.  We watched 
the end of some HBO comedy special and fell asleep right there, not 
even having the energy to move to the bedroom.



It was still a week before classes started, so we spent a lot of our 
time during that week fooling around with each other.  Out of 
countless sessions of love-making, though, I only came once.   All 
the other times, I faked it for Peter’s sake.  I couldn’t figure out 
what was wrong with me.  At first, I was sure that it was a phase 
brought on by our long separation, but when I thought more about it, 
that didn’t make much sense.  When you have a long sexual dry spell, 
you’re more likely to cum, not less.  It was then that the dreams 
began again in earnest.  The night before classes started, I had the 
most vivid dream yet.  Peter had gone to sleep early to get ready for 
an 8 AM orgo lab, and I had stayed up late since my first class 
wasn’t until Tuesday.  



I was watching some stupid movie when I fell asleep on the couch.  
The dream was so intense that I woke myself up.  When I was finally 
awake, I realized that there was a dull pain in my groin.  When I 
looked down, my hand was in my boxers.  As I touched my cock, it was 
rock hard and bloody raw.  I must have been jerking it in my sleep, 
acting out the dream.  Peter was still asleep, so I waddled into the 
bedroom and got under the covers.  I didn’t sleep a wink, but I 
played possum when Peter began to stir.  He got ready for class and 
left without incident, but how was I going to explain my cock the 
next time he decided to go down on me?  I thought about it all day 
while he was gone.  I would tell him a half truth.  I would admit 
that I was having trouble cumming, but I wouldn’t tell him about the 
dreams.  They were just too messed up to talk about.  I had done it 
to myself trying to jerk off.  That much at least was true.


When he finally go home from classes about 5 PM, he looked 
pizzlesprung.  I had made a nice dinner and sat him down at the table 
while rubbing his shoulders.  After we ate, he immediately started to 
get amorous.   When he playfully pulled down my pants, he stopped in 
his tracks.  My cock was a shriveled up purple mass covered in 
scabs.  I sat down on the couch, my head in my hands as he sat beside 
me.  "What on earth happened, Kev?"  I told him my prearranged story, 
and he just sat there in shock.  "Don’t you love me anymore?"


"Of course I love you, Peter.  This has nothing to do with you, it’s 
me.  I don’t know what’s happening to me.  You turn me on more than 
ever, but for some reason I can’t let myself cum.  It’s like I just 
can’t let go."


"Why didn’t you tell me.  Please don’t ever feel like you have to 
fake anything with me, Kevin.  You are my whole world, and I love you 
more than life itself.  Nothing that you do, nothing that happens to 
you, could ever change the way I feel."


I slumped into his chest and started crying.


END PART II