This it is another story from my friend Javier. If you like it please write me, Javier will be happy to know that.
The Football Crowd
The rickety bus was full when I hauled on but I found an unclaimed strap on which to hang. Near the stadium a seething mass waited and as the doors opened and the surging, soccer crowd poured in. The City team had beaten their archrivals from the jubilant mood of the mob. With one arm I clung on precariously to my strap as men pushed around me to fill all space and pinned my other arm against my body till the bus held at least twice the intended number. Great, apparently, had been the triumph! Euphoric voices recounted glorious moments as bodies rubbed and swayed with the lurchings of the bus over the crumbling potholed road. Some broke out in song or cheered as the ecstatic mass fused in the heat of the late afternoon. Chests, buttocks, thighs, pressed together in happy camaraderie.
The aroma of excited, sweating men was intoxicating even before a firm and fundamental form materialized against my buttock. The bus braked suddenly, throwing jumbled bodies forward and pivoting me on my strap. A protested shout erupted from the mob but the balance soon restored with laughs and jostles all round. Then it came again; the unmistakable form of cock rubbing my ass. So tightly packed were we that I could not even turn. It thrust against me hard, insistence and now unrelated to the random movements of the bus. Then, I felt a hand at my crotch. Who among the five of six near me so boldly invaded my privacy? Was some stranger really feeling my cock or had the heavy hormonal air made me hallucinate? No, there could be no mistake; fingers were massaging my balls, and separating my cock from the congested mass of flesh in my crotch. They traced its shape as if taking its measure through my pants.
All around me seemed fully occupied in some shouted celebration, cheer or song, as I let the hand pop the studs of my fly. Then I realized the cock pressing against my ass was unrelated to the hand and I now felt yet another set of fingers grip my thigh. I hung precariously on to the strap defenseless to the assaults but in truth with no desire to mount one. My heart pounded, my body throbbed for being the object of such desire. A frenzy feeding was in full swing as something squeezed against my hand held to my side. It too was hot and hard and as I turned my palm to grip it. The bus shook sharply and in the sway, it slipped away. Hungry now for flesh, my hands probed where it had been and found firm thighs that yielded to my touch. Encouraged, I groped a crotch but this cock was soft and not the one I knew. Far from rejecting the intrusion of my hand, the body twisted to welcome it and responded to my touch with rapid hardening.
Deft digits negotiated the complexities of my fly and first one finger felt the smooth skin of my cock, then another. Long slender tentacles expertly wrapped around, exploring all its shape and, having gauged the shaft, and head and foreskin, then began to stroke it. The hand at my thigh had worked round to probe between my legs searching for my testicles. The cock against my buttocks began a slow rhythmic thrust as my hands felt the friendly stranger. As I inhaled the heat of a hundred men, the semen surged in me and could not be denied. The sliding hand felt the slickness of my flow and stroked me more. With a sudden lurch, bodies jolted, and I shot and juiced the helping hand.
A violent braking brought the bus to a shuddered halt. The doors wheezed open and bodies surged toward the air. In a fumbled frenzy I tucked my cock back in my pants and closed my fly. In a minute they were gone as quickly as they had come. My heart still pounding, I dropped deflated into a vacated seat. I drew my breath and through the window watched wave of men wash into the station. One head looked back and met my eyes. To his lips he raised a hand and smiled a toothy grin.
If you like it please write me