In the third carriage, walking down the aisle, looking for a good seat. Doing the stats as I walk. Mood: about 3 out of 10. Average for Friday. Tiredness: 5? Actually, about 4. That's pretty good for the end of the week. Horniness: about 8. Doesn't ever seem to go below 8 these days.
Can't remember when I started doing the stats. It's a habit now.
Going down the fourth carriage; only three more left. The handle of my bag is cutting into my hand, and there's a pain in my leg from knocking against someone's armrest. Still, it's worth going a bit further down. There's plenty of seats free at this time of night, but a seat with a view is what matters. Got hours to pass, and time always goes by faster if there's someone worth looking at. A few sneaky looks. Might get a nice fantasy going.
The guy at the end of this carriage looks OK. A bit rough looking; a bit chavy really, but not bad.
I manage to get my bag stuck in the seat just before I get to him. Gives me time for a better look. That's a definite. Quite hot actually. What I'd like to do is sit opposite him, but I don't. There's four empty seats across the aisle, and he'll wonder why I don't use one of them. It's like standing too near another guy to take a piss. Might be risky. He looks like he could be... well, I don't think I'd want to get on the wrong side of him.
So I take a seat across the aisle, diagonally opposite him, and the view seems fine from here. I put my bag on the floor between my legs and get out a few random things. While my head's down, I've got the chance for a good look. I don't waste it.
Trainers. I like guys in trainers. Tracky bottoms. Polo shirt. All very nice. Then the details: some worn patches and dirt on the trainers, the tracky bottoms quite old, with a torn bit down one of the stripes. Bit of a gap between the polo shirt and the top of his boxers. Bit of skin showing. Also very nice. Trackies very low on his hips, way below his boxers. The waist band must be right down to his pubes. If he wasn't wearing the boxers I'd be able to see right down to ... Oh, God, I'm getting a semi already. Brilliant. I'm thinking maybe half an hour watching him and imagining a load of stuff, then down to the bog for a wank.
I sit back up and put my stuff on the seat next to me. Don't think I'll be reading much of my book, but I open it anyway. I do the stats on him. Clothes: 8, maybe 9. Face and hair: definitely 9. Why are rough, chavy straight lads so hot? Body: could be a 10. Looks like there's a great body under that polo shirt. Is that the edge of a tattoo under his sleeve?
Two empty lager cans under his seat. I wonder if he's drunk those? He slides his arse forward in the seat, stretches his legs out in front of him and puts his head back against the headrest. Yes, yes, yes. A bit further. There's a definite bulge in his tracky bottoms now. Sliding forward has pulled the front of his boxers down a bit. There's more skin showing now, and some hair trailing down towards his pubes. This is good, very good. My cock's really hard now, and a bit uncomfortable in my jeans. Now he closes his eyes, and I shove my hand down my boxers for a quick fiddle, just to get comfortable. This is already shaping up to be a great journey, and if he goes to sleep, it will be fucking amazing. Uninterrupted viewing, and I won't even have to worry about him catching me looking.
I take a quick glance back up the carriage, no-one else at all down this end. I start to wonder if I might sneak a wank right here. If he goes to sleep, that is. It wouldn't be the first time. Hand in my pocket, take it nice and slowly. Danger wank. I remember some of the lads at School calling it that. They used to compare stories in the PE changing room. Who'd had one in the most risky places. I could tell my mates about this one later on.
If I had the right sort of mates.
My cock's getting even harder now, watching the bulge in the guy's trackies and thinking about danger wanking right opposite him.
I slip my hand into my jeans pocket and start to have a bit of a play. I can feel my heart beating, and feel my nob responding to every pulse with a small twitch. It's going to be a good one. I get my thumb on my bell-end, just where my foreskin joins on, and start to massage it gently. The skin's really sensitive there, and the material of my boxers makes plenty of friction. Fuck, that feels good already.
It's a while later when a tunnel brings me out of my dream world for a moment. The guy opposite is properly asleep now, and I'm starting to leak pre-cum. Time to decide if I'm going to finish this one off here, or go to the bog.
Then, there's a bit of a noise from my wank fantasy across the aisle, and he turns his head. I freeze, but it's OK, he's not waking up. Dreaming probably. He shifts in his seat again, and now the bulge is bigger. It's clearer anyway, and I think it's bigger.
Fuck. I think he's getting a hard-on. Fuck!
But I think he might be going to wake up. No. No. He's shifting around in his seat. Stay asleep, please, for fuck's sake, stay asleep.
I'm in agony for a couple of minutes, but then he settles down again. Still asleep. Thank Christ for that. And still getting hard. I can see the whole shape of his cock through the thin material now. It's sticking out to the side a bit, but it's still growing and straightening up. Fuck. This is like winning the lottery. His bell-end's pushing right up against the waist band of his boxers. I can see the whole shape of it. One more centimetre would do it. Less than that. Come on. Come on!
I'm not even being careful any more. My whole hand is wrapped round my nob, and I'm straining the material of my pocket to get some good action going. He slides a bit further down in the seat, and the front of his trackies gets pulled down just that centimetre I've been praying for. There, in full view, is his bell-end, really hard, the skin stretched very tight and very shiny.
All of a sudden, my fantasy moves inside his head, putting myself into the horny dream I know he's having. That amazing cock of his, thrusting into someone, over and over again. That bell-end, forcing its way into someone's hole. He's got her up against a wall, fucking her harder and harder. His trackies are round his ankles and his arse is clenching as he fucks. I hear his breathing getting faster, getting noisier.
He's getting close. There's sweat on his neck and face. He's grunting and gasping for breath. Then one massive thrust. And another. He's cumming. I bet there's masses of it. Hot and creamy and sticky.
Oh fuck. I'm cumming too. The first squirt straight into my boxers. I don't fucking care. This is what I've been needing all day. Second squirt. Fucking amazing. Third. Don't stop. Don't stop.
It's a while before I come down a bit from the orgasm and get my head back to reality. I'm really out of breath, my cock feels hot and a bit raw from the friction, and my boxers are soaking with cum.
When I get my breath back, I'll go to the bog and clean up.
Chavy lad is still asleep, with no idea about how I've made use of him. Still hard as well. Must be some dream he's having.
I hear the door swishing open at the other end of the carriage, and I look back over my shoulder. There's a woman and a child walking down the carriage, coming our way. My lad still has his bell-end in full view, and suddenly I feel protective. I shoot across into the seat next to him, and cross my legs, with my knee sticking out to cover his crotch as much as possible. It's a fairly shit effort, but I only had a few seconds. I try to look relaxed, but fail dismally. First the child and then the woman arrive and go past. They don't look at either of us, fortunately; I think they've rushing to get the child to the toilet. Thank fuck for that.
I look across, and suddenly realise how close I am to the guy I've been lusting over, how easily I could reach out and touch his bell-end, feel up his balls through his trackies, anything. My cock gives another jolt, and pumps a bit more cum into my already soaking boxers.
Another thought crashes in; mother and child will be coming back from the toilet any time, and there may be others too. What if a ticket-collector appears? Fuck. I'm going to have to wake the guy up. I can't just leave him there, showing off his very beautiful nob to the world. I know if I think about this too much, I won't do it, so I turn and shake the guy's arm.
`Hey, mate.'
He moves a bit, but doesn't respond.
`Hey mate, you've got to wake up.'
This time a reaction. `What? What's up? Are we there?'
`No. You need ... you've ...'
I haven't a clue what to say, so I look down and point straight at his bell-end, knowing it's going to be my last chance to see it.
The reaction is instant. Oh, fuck! Shit! Shit!' He's pulling at his clothes and covering up, leaning forward in the seat. Mate, I'm sorry. I didn't know. Shit. I was having a dream...'
`It's fine. Don't worry about it.'
`Did anyone see?'
`No, it's OK. No-one saw.'
`You sure?' He seems really freaked by this.
`I'm sure. Look, no-one's sitting anywhere near. There were a couple of people came past, but I managed to cover it up with my leg, so they didn't see anything.' I demonstrate for him.
Right on cue, the mother and child come back from the toilet, and he watches them go past. Then he looks straight at me, and I can see the panic in his eyes. I get the feeling he's picturing what might have happened if the kid had seen him lying there, with his dick rock-hard and in full view.
`You saved my fucking life, mate.'
`It's all right, really.'
`I'm fucking sorry though, mate. I mean, you had to ... You must think I'm a right fucking perv.'
`Course I don't.'
`But I had my dick out!'
`You didn't mean to.'
`I feel such a cunt.'
`All guys get hard-ons when they're asleep.'
`Fucking nightmare. On a train, for fuck's sake.'
`It was just bad luck. Forget about it.'
Suppose so, but I still feel a cunt.' He's starting to calm down a bit; the shock's wearing off. Cheers though, mate. You're a fucking life saver. I mean it. Can I buy you a beer or something?
`No, you're all right.' I'm starting to feel a bit bad now; he's treating me like I'm the fucking Good Samaritan, and five minutes ago I was cumming in my pants over him.
`Is that right, what you said – all guys get boners when they're asleep?'
I'm surprised by the question. I thought that was something everyone knew. But then, he is young, and I don't suppose he'd be able to ask his mates something like that; it might sound a bit gay. I, on the other hand, rather like the way this conversation is going. Yeah, I think it happens to everyone.' I think I'll risk pushing it a bit further. If I wake up in the night, mine's usually hard, and in the morning.'
`Is it? Cool. I didn't know if it happened to other blokes or not. I thought it was supposed to just happen for a bit after your balls drop.'
`Happens to me all the time, and I think I'm pretty normal.' Normal? Fucking hell, how can I say something like that with a straight face?
But what about...' He trails off, and shoots me a quick glance. Sorry, mate, I shouldn't be going on about this kind of stuff. I don't even know you.'
Oh, no. You're not getting off this subject yet. I'm just getting warmed up. `Don't worry about me. I'll talk about anything, especially dirty stuff.'
Really?' He thinks for a moment. No, you're all right.'
`Look, you've already shown me your dick. If you're not embarrassed about that, well...'
He looks horrified. What? I didn't fucking show you... I was... you said it was...' Then he catches my smile. You cunt... I thought you were serious.' His shoulders drop and he breathes out noisily. Then he gives me a big smile; the first one I've seen. It's fucking sexy. He seems like a really nice lad. But I really want to keep this conversation going.
`You think you're a fucking perv? I bet you're not as bad as me. Come on, what were you going to ask me?'
`You sure you don't mind?'
`No, I've said. Go on.'
`Is it normal if you still spunk up in the night sometimes? I mean, I thought that only happened when you were, like thirteen or something.'
`Depends on how horny you are, and how much sex you're getting.'
`What do you mean?'
`Are you fucking anyone at the moment?'
`No mate. My girlfriend dumped me about six months ago.'
`How often do you have a wank?'
`Fucking hell, mate...'
`Sorry, didn't mean to embarrass you.'
`I'm not embarrassed, mate, I just wasn't expecting you to just, like, fucking come out with it like that.' He is embarrassed, though. At least a bit.
`Well, you did ask me about spunking up in the night. I was just...'
`Yeah, yeah, mate, it's OK. Yeah, well, I have one, like, every day, I suppose.'
`Just one?'
`Yeah, most days. I try not to have too many. My dad said it's bad for you if you do it too much.'
I'm starting to feel quite sorry for the lad now. He's so open and trusting, and I'm being such a devious cunt. At least I can set him straight on this, though. `That's crap. Sorry, I know it's your dad, and all that, but he's talking out of his arse.'
`Really?'
`Yeah. Sounds like you need far more than one a day. You're obviously a horny guy; you need to let it out, or it all builds up, and you end up squirting it in the night.'
Well, my dad usually talks out of his arse, I suppose. He's a bit of a twat, really.' Another big smile. So, how many should I, you know, how often...?
`Have as many as you want. When your dick tells you it needs a wank, you should have one.'
`Fucking hell, man. Result!' He's looking really excited now. Probably thinking about getting home and cracking one off straightaway.
I'm not feeling so good though. I know I've just been using the guy, and he seems so nice. I only started this conversation because I'd get turned on by it. Even now though, when I'm feeling a bit shit about myself, I've still got a hard-on, and I'm still checking the guy out every chance I get. What's the matter with me, for fuck's sake?
Hey, mate,' he fixes me with a look of such openness that I have to look away. That's so cool, what you told me. I don't know anyone else who'd tell me stuff like that. You're a top bloke, you know.'
Suddenly, I can't do this any more. `No I'm not.'
`You are mate. I wish my mates were more like you.'
I've started now, and I'm not going to be able to stop. `You don't. You wouldn't if you knew what I'm really like. It's me that's the cunt, not you. And a perv. Look. I've been checking you out ever since I got on this train. That's why I came and sat opposite you. When you got a boner, I should have come over and woken you up straightaway, but I didn't because I was too busy getting off on it.'
Holy fuck! Where did all that come from? Shit!' There's a long silence. I haven't a clue what's going to happen next. Finally, he asks, You a fucking gayboy then?'
The word almost makes me smile, despite myself. `Yes I'm a "gayboy".'
Fuck. I wouldn't have guessed. You don't look like one.' I resist the temptation to launch into the whole not all gays are camp' thing. Now really isn't the time.
There's another silence, and I try to work out which way this may go. He doesn't look too worried, which I suppose is a good sign, and he hasn't punched me or walked off to another carriage. Why did you go so fucking mental? If you were only having a bit of a perve. It's not a big deal, not enough to go beating yourself up about. We had some gays at School, you know, it don't worry me.' He stops to think. So, you think I'm fit then, do you. Fucking hell.' Suddenly, his expression changes. He looks hard at me. `What's going on here?'
I can't look him in the eye. I try to, but I can't. I look down and find myself staring at his crotch. But he isn't going to let this drop. `Right, mate, I reckon you're told me about half of it so far. Think it's time for the whole fucking lot, don't you?'
I reckon I've got two choices – just get up and walk down the other end of the train, or answer the question. The silence is stretching on, and it's not a good silence. I think he deserves an answer.
`I had a wank over you.'
`Shit! What, here?'
`Yes.'
`You mean you got your dick out right here and whacked one off?'
`No, I did it in my pocket.'
`When I was asleep?'
`Yes. Can we stop talking about this now?'
`I don't fucking think so. Was it a good wank?'
`What?'
`A good wank. Did you enjoy wanking over me?'
`Yes.'
`Did you cum?'
`Yes.'
Where?' I think he's starting to enjoy this. The more uncomfortable I get, the more he's enjoying it. Where did you shoot it?'
`You can guess where. Do I have to spell it out?'
`Yeah, I think you do.'
`In my pants.'
`You fucking cummed in your pants?'
`Yes.'
You're right. You are a fucking pervert.' His face is serious, but there's something in his eyes which I can't quite work out. Don't know if I believe you, though.'
`What?'
Don't think I believe you, mate. Think you're making the whole fucking thing up.' The look in his eyes has changed now, to something definitely mischievous, and there's a small smile too. Think you need to prove it.'
`What do you mean? Prove what?'
`You're telling me you had a wank over me, and shot a load in your kecks. I'm telling you I think you might be a lying cunt. Only one way of proving it.'
He's definitely smiling now. He's in charge, and he knows it. I reach for my belt and undo it. Then the buttons on my jeans. My boxers are black, and the wet patch is really obvious. So is the shape of my hard-on through the stretchy material.
He looks like he's giving it serious thought. Hmm, could be spunk. Could be you've pissed yourself...' The smile is getting bigger, as he takes more control. Not convinced yet.'
I pull the waist band of my boxers out, and my cock flicks back against my stomach with a slap. He takes a good look, and shakes his head. `That's fucking disgusting. You should be ashamed of yourself.'
`I know. I am.' But I'm smiling. And so is he.
`So then, mate, do I get a blow-job, or what?'
Sometimes, there are moments when you need to say something, but your brain's going off in fifty different directions at once, and all the things you thought you knew have been shuffled up and dealt out again in a different order. There are some words in my head, but I can't seem to say any of them. I'm sitting there with my mouth opening and closing, and he's put his serious face back on. After a very long time, I manage, `What? No... I mean... Shit.'
He reaches out towards me, and I realise I'm still holding out the waistband of my boxers. He takes my hand away, and then lets the elastic snap back. It cracks against my bell-end, and he gives a quick laugh as I wince with the pain and start rubbing it. `Now. Do what you're fucking told, right? And if you're a good boy, I might even give you a hand with that. Come on!' He gestures with his head towards the toilet, and I'm on my feet and following him without even thinking about it. I haven't done up my jeans, and I have to hold on to them to keep them up. As we get to the door, he stops suddenly, and I bang into him. It's the first time I've touched him, and it sends a shock of electricity through me.
`Right. I'm not a fucking gayboy, so don't try to kiss me, or any of that shit. You ain't sticking anything into my mouth, or anywhere else, so you can forget that too. I'm in charge, right, and don't fucking forget it.'
I'm about to answer, but he's turning and opening the door, and I just follow him in. We're standing facing each other, close together in the cramped cubicle. He takes control straightaway. Take my shirt off. I don't want cum on it. Keep yours on.' He lifts his arms and I pull his shirt up and over his head. There's a hook on the back of the door, and I hang it there. I turn back to him, and instinctively my hands go to his chest. But that's not part of the plan. Clean your dick! In the sink!' I pull my clothes down and turn the tap on, getting handfuls of water and cleaning most of the cum off. There's water everywhere by the time I've finished, but fuck it, so what? I turn back to him and wait for the next instruction.
Right. Kneel down.' I do. Get my cock out and start sucking it.' I don't have to be asked twice.
I pull his trackies down, and then his boxers. His cock is rock hard already; his foreskin pulled right back and his bell-end tight and shiny like I remembered it. His pubes are trimmed quite short, and his balls are hanging low and tempting. I go in and take one in my mouth, breathing in the smell of sweat, and slipping my hand between his legs. Almost at once, I get a slap on the side of my head. Hard, but not vicious. `I said suck my dick, not all that other shit.'
I do as I'm told. I kneel up a bit, and take hold of his shaft, pulling his cock down towards my mouth. There's an unmistakable glint of pre-cum on it, and I lick it off. Fuck, I'm so turned on. I take his whole bell-end in my mouth, and start going down on it, rubbing it against the inside of my cheek. He's moaning a bit already. I move it across to the other cheek for a bit, and then move my lips further down the shaft. I feel the tip hit the back of my throat, and he's loving it. I feel all his muscles tense, and he puts his hands on the back of my head. I start to get a good rhythm going, and he seems happy to let me run the show. I reach down for my dick, and start wanking; slowly though, I'm close to cumming already.
I think he's getting close as well, and I speed up the rhythm a bit. Suddenly, his hands are on the side of my head, and he's pulling out, then lifting me to my feet. We're face to face again, and his hand closes round my cock. He starts to move his hand, really slowly at first, then faster. I want to kiss him so much. I'm starting to imagine my tongue pushing his lips apart. Shit. I know I mustn't, so instead I bury my face in his neck, and put my arms round him. He's wanking me quite hard now, and I'm starting to build up to cumming. I wonder if he can tell I'm getting really close. I wonder if he's ever done this before with a guy. I don't care, though. I don't fucking care. This feels fucking amazing, and that's all that matters.
I move a hand onto his cock and hold tight, starting to move my hand in time to his. Straightaway, his free hand comes round and grasps my wrist tight. He stops me wanking it, but at least he lets me keep hold of it. He's not ready to cum yet – I know where he's planning for his load to end up.
His hand speeds up even more and there's no way I'm going to hold off any longer. I hold him even tighter as the waves of the orgasm take hold of me. My legs start shaking, and my body jerks wildly as I grunt muffled sounds of ecstasy into his shoulder. It feels like it's going on for ever. It's a much stronger cum this time, more intense, deeper somehow, and I know I've shot even more spunk than that other time, back in the carriage.
I'm still cumming a bit when I feel his hands on my shoulders pushing me down. My spunk is splashed all the way up his chest, and he's guiding my head towards it. I open my mouth, put out my tongue, and start to lick it up. Once he's sure I've got the idea, he drops his hands and lets me get on with cleaning him up. I work my way down, starting with the splashes on his shoulder and neck. I do his chest next, and he lets me use my tongue on his nipple for a while, before pushing me down further. I'm getting to the best bits now; there's loads of cum in his pubes and the trail of hair going up to his belly button is plastered with it. I take my time, and enjoy every lick, and by now he's got his hand round his dick and he's wanking it slowly as he watches me doing my clean-up job.
Just as I'm about finished, his hands are on my head again, and his cock rams its way into my mouth. No way am I going to be in charge of this one. He snaps his hips back and thrusts forward, both hands behind my head. His bell-end's in my throat, and for a moment I'm choking. I force myself to relax, and the next thrust slides in easily. He moans, and the next thrust is even harder. His breath is coming fast now, and I know this won't last long. Faster. Harder. It hurts, but I'm loving what I'm doing to him. He's right on the edge, gasping and groaning, and then suddenly, `Swallow it, cunt!' and one final massive thrust. The first shot hits the back of my throat hard, followed by another and another. I grab his arse with both hands and help to push it in a bit deeper. I'm not even noticing the pain now, I'm just feeling his body shuddering and hearing his breathing as his orgasm builds and then starts to ease off.
For a minute, we don't move, him standing breathing heavily and me kneeling with his cock still in my mouth. I do the stats. Mood: 10, obviously. Tiredness: zero, though that might not last long. Horniness: zero and 10 – totally relaxed and totally horned-up, both at the same time. Don't know how that works, but that's how it is. Fucking amazing.
Then he lets me get up, and we stand facing each other again. The big smile is back, and this time I'm smiling too.
I decide to push my luck a bit. Still no kissing, then?' He doesn't answer straightaway, but the smile stays, and then he says, Well...'
Suddenly, there's a loud banging on the door. We both freeze. Shit.
More banging. `Hey! Open this door! What the fuck is going on in there?'