Date: Mon, 28 May 2018 00:57:04 -0500
From: Brandon M <wisconsinbrandon@gmail.com>
Subject: The Guys on the Bus, Part 1

This is a story of sexual situations between men. If this type of story is
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wisconsinbrandon@gmail.com and/or check out my other stories: It Started in
Sixth Grade (in the Young Friends section) and Locker Room Surprise (in the
Adult-Youth section).

THE GUYS ON THE BUS, Part 1

	When you're a year out of college and working to live on your own,
pay your bills, and get the student loans paid off, you find any way you
can to save money. I, being something less than the coolest person in the
world, chose to take the commuter bus to my job downtown. It was fairly
fast, cost way less than parking and gas, and it was a chance to get a
little extra sleep in the morning should I need to recover from the
previous night. I never needed the little extra sleep. My life was, in a
word, boring. At 23, I'd already settled into a rut.
	At work, the other younger workers would talk about their sexual
conquests, their nights in the bars, and the parties they went to on the
weekends. As for me, nobody wanted to hear about the sexual conquests of a
gay man, especially one who hadn't had sex since moving to the city after
graduation. I was too shy to figure out how to get a man's attention and
had very little experience in what to do after I had that attention. I
wasn't a virgin, but evolution was bringing me back to that state.
	I didn't have any friends at all in the city. Acquaintances,
yes. Coworkers, the pizza delivery guy, the grocery store checkers, but no
friends. Even I bored me. So I found ways to entertain myself. One of those
ways was to listen in to conversations on the bus. Okay, it's not mature
and it's not even good manners, but it killed time on the forty-five minute
ride.
	For a week or so, I sat in different places on the bus so I could
hear different conversations, but I eventually settled on sitting in front
of two well-dressed men who picked the same seats every day. The older guy
would talk about whatever problems he was having with "the wife"—he
always referred to her as "the wife," which drove me crazy because it was
if she were a thing and not a person—and "the kids" and "the job." He
wasn't somebody I would have picked to listen to ordinarily, but his
seatmate was a different story.
	The second guy, whose name, I learned, was Evan, never mentioned a
wife or kids, which I liked. He was older than me, around thirty, and not
bad looking at all. His conversation tended to focus more on work. Like me,
he worked in accounting, but in a much more important position. He filled
out his dress shirts quite nicely. He wasn't overly athletic looking, but
he was definitely no slob. Average, like me. I got on at the first stop
every morning and he got on a couple stops later and always nodded at me
before settling into his seat with his friend. Without knowing him, I knew
I liked him.
	One Monday morning, I left my car in the park and ride and went to
wait with the others and, to my surprise, there was Evan at the end of the
line. "Good morning," he said to me.
	"Good morning," I answered. "Don't you usually get on a couple
stops from now?" Not that I was complaining, of course.
	He smiled. "I used to. I moved over the weekend. Got an apartment a
few blocks from here. So I'll get getting the bus here now."
	"Which complex?" I asked.
	"Riverside."
	"That's where I'm at. Guess that makes us neighbors." Damn, but I
was brilliant.
	"Looks like it."
	The bus pulled up and we boarded. I swung into the seat behind
Evan's usual and he surprised me by getting up and sitting beside me. "I
sit next to George every morning and, to be honest, he annoys the hell out
of me."
	This was turning into an incredible Monday. "You're welcome to stay
here."
	"Thanks. Since you live at the Riverside, do you know anything
about the weekly parties at the clubhouse? Are they worth going to?"
	I laughed. "I didn't know there were weekly parties. I guess I
don't pay much attention to the bulletin board in the laundry room."
	"You probably have enough social life that you don't need to," Evan
said.
	I laughed again. "No, not really."
	Evan and I lapsed into the safe bus rider topics, where we work,
what we do, that sort of thing, and the forty-five minute ride passed
quickly. My work day was the usual thing, except I was distracted by
thoughts of Evan. A new friend? Well, a friend at all. More than I had when
I started the day. And he was hot. Lunchtime found me in the men's room
instead of the break room. I needed to beat off while memory of him sitting
next to me was still fresh. The first stall, I knew from experience, was
the best place to go for self-gratification. It was furthest from the door
and away from the sinks. I dropped my pants and underwear, lifted my shirt
a bit, and started slowly stroking myself to my full nearly six inches and
let my thoughts turn to Evan.
	On the ride home, he sat next to me once again. We chatted about
inconsequential things again and killed another forty-five minutes. When we
stepped off the bus, he asked me for the best pizza place in the
neighborhood. I suggested Guido's, which was a block from our apartments
and where everything was made fresh. He thanked me and we went to our cars
and drove the few blocks home.
	The whole week, we talked on the bus to and from work about nothing
important. I learned where he worked and what he did and that he was, as I
suspected, single. He was twenty-eight, four years older than me, and, like
me, moved to the city after graduation to work. He learned about as much
about me, and that was that.
	Saturday morning, I walked to the nearby grocery store to get what
little I needed for the week. It was a beautiful morning for a walk, clear
and not too hot, and I wore an old t-shirt from a music festival back in
college and a pair of shorts. It wasn't a dress to impress event, just
grocery shopping. I wished, however, that I had paid a little more
attention to my appearance when I rounded a corner and practically crashed
into Evan.
	"Hey, stranger," he said. "You picking up some nourishment for the
weekend too?"
	"Oh yeah. Got to get food when I can."
	We strolled the rest of the store together and, as we walked, I
checked him out in his shorts. Hairier legs than mine, which I liked, and
when he faced me, he didn't look unrealistic in the crotch. Not bad at
all. Once our groceries were bagged, we walked back to our apartments
together. Evan invited me to come over and watch a ball game with him and
then we could go to the clubhouse party. I agreed and we parted to bring
our groceries home.
	An hour later, I presented myself at Evan's door, freshly showered
and in a nicer shirt and shorts than I'd worn to the store. From his
still-wet hair, I judged that Evan, too, indulged in a shower before
switching to a nice, red polo shirt and shorts. He cleaned up well. He
invited me into the kitchen, where he had lunchmeat, rolls, condiments and
chips laid out. "I'm not a chef," he said, "but I can put out deli meat
with the best of them. Help yourself, Adam." He took a long drink of Coke
from a bottle. "There's soda, water, and beer in the fridge. I'm sticking
with soda until tonight because I'm pretty much a lightweight when it comes
to drinking, but you do you."
	I grabbed a Sprite from the refrigerator, made a pretty decent
sandwich, and we both took our food and drinks into the living room, where
Evan already had the game on. We kicked back, ate, watched, and talked. As
we talked, I kept checking him out. I couldn't help myself. I thought maybe
he was looking me over too, but I wasn't sure. Whether he was or not, he
would be in tonight's masturbation fantasy.
	A full afternoon of sports took us to clubhouse party time, which
was just a few doors down from Evan's apartment. When we walked in, the
room was filled with mostly the older folks who lived in the complex, but
there were some young ones as well. We got a couple of beers and sat and
soon we were talking with a group of people around our own age. It was the
type of chat that people do at these things, all superficial and get to
know you shit, but it was a fun group and the beers kept coming along with
pretty decent food and a lot of laughter. When we hit our fifth round of
beers, I realized Evan had pretty much stopped participating in the
conversation.
	I looked over at him. He seemed pretty glazed over. When he finally
realized I was watching him, he said, "Told you I'm a lightweight, dude."
	"You need to leave?"
	"Sure."
	We said our goodnights to the others and I led Evan back to his
apartment and got him inside. He headed into his bedroom and, when I popped
my head in to say goodnight and, hopefully, get a glimpse of clothing
coming off, saw him fully dressed and passed out on his bed. I figured he
was out for the night, so I took off his shoes and socks and started to
leave, but then decided to snoop a little. His phone was in his shorts
pocket, I knew, so what else could I do? I undid his shorts and tugged them
down and off, leaving him in his black boxer briefs. After checking to make
sure he was breathing deep and steady, I copped a long, slow
feel. Nice. Probably about my size.
	After that worthwhile distraction from my mission, I pulled Evan's
phone from his pocket. No password protection. My lucky day. I took his
phone into his living room, in case he woke up, and nosed around. Grindr
was on there. Yes! I made note of his user name to check out later, even
though I'd never actually hooked up on there, and looked around some
more. Nothing interesting in his texts, but his photo gallery was quite
intriguing. Pics of some guys who were not bad looking, and some not
dressed. Evan had good taste.
	I went back in his bedroom, where he was still dead to the world,
and emptied the rest of the contents of his pockets onto his dresser and
left his phone there so it would look like I did nothing but help tuck him
in for the night. Evan hadn't moved, so I copped another feel, then got
bold and lifted the waistband of the boxer briefs for a quick peek. Yes,
okay, that's kind of silly. I mean, obviously I was going to find a dick
and balls and I already had a good idea of the size of those. He, like me,
was circumcised and, well, he looked pretty damn tasty.
	Having run out of things to do without crossing the line of taking
total advantage of his unconsciousness, I decided it was time for me to
leave. Before I did, however, I got out my cell and took several pictures
of my own, some quite up close, to give me something to think about when I
got to my own bed. Then I turned out his lights and left for my own place,
one building over.
	At home, I immediately stripped down. I had some serious jacking
off to do. I opened Grindr and found Evan. Sweet pictures not revealing
much. That was okay. I had my own pictures of him to think about. Knowing
for sure that he was playing on the same team as me made me that much
hornier. I started thinking about inviting him to join me at the complex's
pool. I hadn't seen him shirtless yet and God knew I needed to. I'd ask him
tomorrow, I decided as my hand traveled south to take care of business.

End of Part 1

In Part 2, things are going to heat up. Just trust the author on this
one. :)