Arlene's Long Spermfest Weekend

"Ah, I know!"

I didn't like the sudden evil smile on her face.

"I think I want you to attend to each other."

You could see her thinking it all through. "It won't be each of you just stroking solo, it will be a far more entertaining contest. You will have to pleasure each other!"

Her grin got wider. "What fun!"

Lenny and I looked at each other, then our pouched pricks. I tried to visualize what it would be like to be masturbating him in front of Arlene. His brain was likely similarly employed. We were quiet for a moment.

"I hear you guys used to stroke each other, no sense in pretending that it didn't happen." She looked at us with an amused smile. "You can get your big manly organs all warmed up, and then I'll get to have some fun this evening."

Lenny's eyes found mine.

"I see zee little flaw in your plans," I finally said, doing my best French Canadian accent, mimicking the only ethnic minority we had in our old New Hampshire hometown.

"What's that?" she frowned.

"Seems to me your contest is designed to see which cock is going to hold out the longest, presumably thus providing you the greatest, extended pleasure later, right?"

Arlene nodded.

"And seeing multiple ejaculations will assuage any doubts you have about potential cock vigor and longevity in action?"

She nodded again.

"So why in the world should I try to coax as many spurts as possible from my opponent?" I said with exaggerated exasperation, pointing at Lenny, or rather his cock.

"Wouldn't that be counter-productive? He erupts three times under my expert ministrations but me only once since he deliberately is clumsy in stroking my prick? The incentive is for me to do a lousy job on him, keeping his count down, rather than up."

Arlene's eyes narrowed, "Yes, right..."

"So, either we shouldn't be doing each other, or..." I paused, thinking about each of us jerking ourselves off all afternoon. "Seems to me your real goal is seeing how long a cock can hold up. Why don't you just measure the length of time each cock stays hard? That gives you a Cock Longevity Index, a CLI."

"Expressed in 'hardness minutes,' " chimed in Lenny.

"Yeah, but then all that means is that when that cock does erupt this evening, it will be fast and furious and I'll maybe have a a huge load of pent-up sperm inside me, but it won't necessarily take very long to do it." Arlene looked at me with a challenge in her eye. "No fun there."

"Okay," I conceded. "We end with a climax, that way the next cockstand will still be long-lasting, but the testicle-tanks won't be completely depleted."

Arlene pondered this all for some minutes. "Alright, you're on. Point taken."

"So how are we going to establish a hardness standard?" ventured Lenny.

"If I can fold it in half, it's soft," said Arlene.

The thought of my hard cock getting folded in half made me wince.

Arlene laughed. "Okay, folded at all. If it folds, the penis is done."

"Toast," went Lenny, "inactive, deceased, dormant, dead."

We all looked at each other.

"So, we good to go?" I asked, pointing to both our crotches. Indeed it would have taken some effort to fold either of them, the way they were poking against their pouches.

"Go pee you guys," laughed Arlene. "It will be awhile before you'll be able to do so again, at least hopefully. Then we'll start."

Lenny and I went in to the bathroom together. Our cocks were hard and it took a moment for them to relax enough to let out our urine. We pissed into the toilet at the same time, playing our ancient dueling urine streams game and laughing like a couple of teenagers.

"Not sure about this," I went.

"I'm not worried," said Lenny. "Regardless of which one of us pokes her tonight, she's gonna want more. She's eager to get her fill and I guarantee your cock will have gotten a good workout before the weekend is over."

"That's a bit what I'm afraid of," I said, only half jokingly.

We made our way back out to the deck.

"So let me get this straight," I said to Arlene, reclined on her lounge chair, drink in hand.

"We each produce an erection and keep it that way, what, til dinnertime? Whoever goes soft first loses? Anything else?"

"Wait, wasn't there the issue of ending with a climax? How's that going to happen if someone goes limp? There are some things to get clear still," went Lenny.

"Okay," said Arlene, holding her hand up for attention.

"I have decided how it will go. You guys get hard and we mark the time when you both are suitably erect. I will be prosecutor, judge and jury for the stiffness part of the deal, no appeals," she said evenly.

"On your own, you can do anything you want to stay hard. And every twenty minutes," she said eying us closely, "you each give the other a good five minute work-over. I still like the idea of having you do each other. The cock owner has to sit or lie back while attended to, cannot dodge or move away. If somebody makes a semen mess, then the contest is over."

Lenny and I looked at each other.

"Alright, some issues," said Lenny testily. "What is the order of each other doing the work-over? Who goes first?"

"Flip for it, then alternate," said Arlene, like she was explaining the rules to kindergarteners.

"Okay, but what if, say, we go three hours, and Rob manages, somehow, through divine luck or something, to get me off during his five minutes of fame attending to me, but I haven't put so much as a finger on him during that cycle? Shouldn't I get a chance to see if I can bring him off too? In less time? Gotta be some reciprocity involved. Otherwise it's not fair." Lenny was adamant.

"Point taken," said Arlene, acting mature. "There has to be reciprocity. But if the cycle comes around and the first cock X does not spurt, but cock Y does, then cock Y is the loser, doesn't get another chance at it. Clear?"

"Wish we weren't cock X or cock Y," muttered Lenny. "So impersonal."

"Don't you guys always name your cocks anyway?" asked Arlene, wide-eyed and smiling. "Didn't you call yours John?"

She imitated Lenny's high school voice, "'Hey, I'm gonna get John up you tonight one way or another!' you used to say. Or 'How's about a goodnight kiss to the ol' Johnboy?' while you waved your penis in my face after a good fuck."

Lenny grinned broadly. "Yep, 'John' it was. You remembered!"

Arlene turned to me. "Alright, what's your cock's name?"

"Shemp," I said, face reddening, while Lenny doubled over laughing.

"Don't ask, it's a long story."

"Shemp?" Arlene asked incredulously. "Like one of the Three Stooges?"

"Look, I answered you," I said with some heat, "I shouldn't be penalized for telling the truth."

"Okay, okay," Arlene laughed while holding up a hand.

"Shemp it is. John vs. Shemp. Gotta be a winner in there somewhere," she said, gazing at our pouches.

"Better be," she said under her breath.

"But what if the 'winner' never comes?" objected Lenny, his lawyer brain never totally disengaged.

"That defeats your whole goal, thereby producing an over-ardent, and thus premature, lovemaking event for you later. What about that?"

"I will take care of things if that occurs," smiled Arlene.

Lenny's eyes gleamed.

"Okay. Two more requests," I said, "and we can begin."

Arlene rolled her eyes. "Now what?"

"Will you do us the honor of making us hard to start us off?" I bowed to her in over-dramatic fashion.

Arlene smiled. "Okay, fair enough. Pull off your pouches."

We eagerly complied, both our pricks in a half-excited state anyway. She had us stand on each side of her, and used both hands to fondle us, reaching under our ballsacks and rubbing our shafts and prickheads. It did not take long before we both were hard, too stiff to fold anyway.

Arlene admired her handiwork. "Nice," she said. And then she leaned forward in turn and gave each of our cocks a nice little kiss and took each of our prickheads in her mouth for a moment. My hips quivered as her soft warm mouth gave me a wet caress, and I felt her tongue circle around my prickhead. Oh man, was that sweet.

She laid back, glanced at her phone and announced the time, 2:25.

"I had one more request though," I continued.

"Yes you did. What now?" she said a little petulantly.

"Would you be kind enough to remove your shirt?"

"Alright," she laughed. And we were treated to the sight of her pulling her shirt off, and each one of her glorious white melons were freed from their confinement to spread out resting on her ribcage.

They weren't as meaty or as firm as they used to be, but still had a mouthwatering heft to them as they sprawled out. My cock bobbed with the sight. Lenny and I both sat back on our own chairs.

"Now what?" said Lenny, a hand at his cock, just barely caressing it. "We can't just fucking jack off for three hours straight."

"We can do anything we want," I said, "those were the rules." I looked at Arlene for confirmation and she nodded.

"Why don't we see if our own perverted minds are sufficient to keep us hard? Lenny, you love telling the story of deflowering our favorite ex-virgin over here," jabbing my thumb in Arlene's direction.

"Why don't you retell both of us that little adventure to start? That ought to be arousing enough."

Lenny smiled broadly. "Fine idea. I am sure Arlene will be happy to chime in with any corrections."

"Or emissions!" I cracked.

So we spent the afternoon trading stories. Lenny was careful to de-raunchify some of the stories that involved Arlene, as there were plenty of places in some of the stories where he had insisted to me that certain activities took place that he didn't mention in her company.

Some of the stories were so engrossing that Arlene as timekeeper forgot to stop to have us attend to each other, but it didn't really matter. Our cocks stayed plenty hard.

I have to admit the first masturbation cycle was a bit odd though. Lenny had finished his Arlene conquest story and started another. Arlene noted that more than twenty minutes had gone by and we had to flip a coin.

Lenny "won" the toss and elected to have me do him first. He sat back in his chair and fixed me with a challenging stare.

I approached his seat and had him spread his legs. I very tentatively began by rubbing his balls with one hand, and lightly running the fingers of my other hand up and down his shaft, caressing his prickhead with my fingertips.

His penis was handsome enough in the afternoon filtered light on the porch, all stiff and smooth like ivory, the veins a crooked purple-blue network, like colorful rivers drawn on a map. His cock's pointy prickhead I recollected got a red or purplish color when aroused.

It was odd, the rest of him had gotten older and a bit weathered, but his cock, except for some gray hair mixed in the midst of his dark groin thicket, was pretty much exactly as I remembered it.

I knew it well, about the same size as mine, but of course I always thought mine was handsomer, although he had succeeded in giving his a lot more life experience.

But an erect cock, almost any erect cock, is just about one of the most stunning sights in the world, and I had the pleasure of having a nice one in my hands.

Within a few minutes I even had some precum leaking out of his piss-slit, which I smeared around that lovely ridge that encircled his prickhead. He had to have been really aroused for this to be happening so early. I had been stroking him for just a few minutes.

It seemed quite possible then that we were not going to be lasting very long at all. I decided to hold back a bit. It would be a shame to have it come to an end so soon. Lenny's face was scrunched up and you could see he was having a tough time keeping the arousing prick sensations from over-taking him.

My fingers glided along his smooth shaft, delighting in the smoothness of it all. His balls felt nice in my hands, so firm in their scrotal sack. It is such a completely different experience to be stroking a cock other than your own, even though the topology is roughly identical.

I imagined his prick lodged up Arlene later, and then all the sperm he would launch into her, flooding her cunt and providing him enormous pleasure. I was far more excited myself than I should have been.

Arlene watched the whole proceedings intensely and signaled when the five minutes were up. I got up and sat down at my own chair. Lenny stood up, a bit red-faced.

"Five minutes at a time may be a bit too long for this sort of attention," he said, and Arlene gave a dark laugh.

"Ha! Already you are set with your excuses. I thought these big manly pricks of yours were good for longer than this!"

"Okay, okay," said Lenny, "but you have to remember that you are here and your shirt is off. You are, and have been, a highly lust-producing machine your whole life, dear Arlene. That doesn't make it easier."

Arlene just smiled. Lenny turned to me after I had seated myself and spread my legs.

"Go," said Arlene softly, looking at her phone for a time confirmation.

Lenny rummaged a hand under my nuts, rolling them in his fingers, while pulling on my prick-shaft at the same time with his other hand.

My mind raced back to the first time he had done this, ages ago, the first fingers besides mine that I could remember touching my cock, except maybe for the errant doctor or two. In those sex-saturated teenage days we talked sex nonstop, about what we would do with girlfriends when we finally had them, and of course our cocks were agonizingly hard pretty much all day long.

Just like today, I think I had been the one who stroked his prick first before he agreed to do me, on that first day that we decided we should 'practice' on each other to see what it would feel like to have someone else coax one's desire forth.

The feelings then of having a strange pair of hands on an organ made for pleasure, that had only felt such enjoyment from your own fingers, had been somehow enchanting, as if opening a door to a new world.

Of course back then I would have preferred that it had been a handsome busty wench of a girl instead of Lenny, but at the time it was certainly at least marginally satisfying, and far more exciting than my own familiar solo touch.

His hands were rougher now, and had naturally been all over all sorts of sexual organs in the meantime, likely dozens if not hundreds of groins, but it somehow felt great to return back in time.

How many cunts had he felt up with his fingers? I wondered how many, if any, cocks he had fondled in the interim. After all these years, had his hands only been on his own cock, and mine?

I closed my eyes and let my head rest on the chair's back. The trick of course was not to let him make me come, at least not until I had done him first. As if that was going to be easy. I tried to focus on the sound of the river in the distance, the crickets making their noises, anything that would keep me from sensing the wonderful tingles his hands were provoking.

And he was working my cockhead now, that lovely center of nerve endings which were urging me into an unwanted eruption.

I squashed my ass down onto the chair firmly, hoping to replace some of the pleasure sensations from my cock with those of discomfort from my butt, and did manage to hold out until I heard Arlene say "five minutes is up" in a vaguely detached tone, and the fingers left off.

I opened my eyes. Arlene was staring intently at my cock, which was twitching and pointing straight up. Her eyes were shining. Lenny stood up, his prick bobbing, and sat down at his own chair again, giving Arlene a long look.

Arlene's smile was wide.

"This is certainly going to be fun," she murmured. "Not sure how long you big studs are going to hold out, however. At this rate there is no way you will make it to dinner."

She was looking at Lenny's prick, poking up stiffly and damp at the head.

We didn't end up making it to dinnertime, unless you wanted to call it a very early dinner.

It wasn't quite two hours, and the five minute reciprocal work-overs had became increasingly difficult to endure.

Both of us early on, and independently, had decided to go "easy" on each other, embarrassed that we would be erupting way too soon for Arlene's pleasure, but by the fourth or fifth time, even "easy" was getting to be an ordeal.

And of course we had been talking sex non-stop, and our cocks had never gone soft.

Lenny, who had gone second on what was to prove to be our next-to-last round, had caught me off-guard and attended to my prick far more energetically than I had for him, and he clearly had been hoping to bring me off, so that he would be declared the winner and be done with it.

He was stroking me hard at the end, my balls aching for release. My hands gripped the armrests of my chair while I tried to keep my ass from clenching, my hips bucking, my sperm spewing forth. I barely held out my time, enormously relieved when Arlene announced 'five minutes' and Lenny, annoyed, got up and sat down at his chair.

He knew he had been close to getting me off. There was a fair amount of fluid leaking out of my cockhead.

Our last set of stories before the next round got increasingly raunchy, some deliberately aimed at the limit of Arlene's perceived boundaries.

"Okay, your turn Rob," Arlene announced when twenty minutes had passed.

I positioned myself between Lenny's legs, determined to fetch his sperm forth as fast as I could, and then see if I could keep myself from ejaculating afterward.

After a few careful strokes with the fingers of one hand, bringing his cock to steel-like stiffness, I took a breath and focused my thoughts.

I reached over with my other hand and placed his penis in my mouth. Lenny waved his hands and shouted out an objection but Arlene shook him off.

"Not against the rules," she said, "anything goes."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see her smile broadly.

I hadn't had a cock in my mouth for some time. My lips had closed over his engorged head, my tongue feeling its smooth turgid pressure. Lenny's cockhead was just how I remembered it, pointed, slick, with a narrow eager piss-slit that pushed back against my mouth involuntarily.

I had spread his legs farther apart, and used a free hand to fondle his balls, all moving about in their drawn-up sack. Lenny's body had tensed, and I was convinced I could hear him grinding his teeth together.

I went up and down a few times to make everything real slick, and then basically tried to do to him what I most enjoyed having done to me.

I suckled his prickhead predominantly, making sure my tongue circled his hyper-aroused head, then went up and down his shaft a few times, then back to his penis-head, then repeated it all, working his balls continually, getting a nice rhythm going.

He was leaking a fair amount of salty slippery fluid at this point, and I was enjoying both the taste and smell of his groin, and how his cock had become so hard and excited in my mouth. I figured I would definitely have his sperm before the five minutes were up.

I could see Arlene leaning forward, her heavy breasts hanging enticingly, as she watched us intently.

Then remembering my own advice, the pleasures I had experienced at the hands and mouths of others, I disengaged and suckled his nuts for a moment, slicking them up and feeling their sweaty, resistant pressure, smelling their musk, before returning to his prickhead, and used my hand to rummage wetly around his balls.

The feel of his prickhead in my mouth was, I have to say, wonderful, all smooth but engorged, wet and aroused and ready for action.

I tickled my tongue on his slit, and used my lips over the ridge of his prickhead. I could feel his legs tensing, his hips moving in a constricted, restrained way that meant he was trying to will them to stay still.