Date: Sat, 1 Jun 2013 02:10:52 +0100 (BST) From: R A Subject: Learning to Suck at 110 kph Warning - this story contains a fictitious account of a male-male sexual encounter. If such a story offends you or if it is illegal for you to view such a story in your area, please stop reading. This includes one sexual partner being under the age of 18, but of sexual majority in the story's setting. This is also my first story. Respectful feedback is invited and encouraged. Now, unzip and let me get you off. Learning to Suck at 110 kph By Frictional It gets cold in Edinburgh and I was glad that I had caught the last train to Newcastle. I wouldn't have been able to transfer to my next train otherwise, and that would have left me stranded in the city. Out of breath, I plopped down in the sparsely-populated cabin of the train and awkwardly placed my stuff on one of the tables. I must have been about 17 at the time and a twinky little thing. Don't get me wrong, I was fairly good looking, but I didn't fill out with muscles until my early 20s. I was visiting England from California to look at schools. My parents let me take my first trip to Scotland to visit a cousin I barely liked. It was worth it, though. I felt like such an adult while in the UK, away from my immediate family, and taking the train all by myself. And I was filled with hormones. My cousin had told me that the legal age of consent was 16 in England and that he had already had sex with a girl. I felt so behind since I hadn't even seen a girl's pussy yet. I walked through the streets that night hoping that some girl or guy -- anyone -- would miraculously ask me to have sex. It didn't happen and my far-fetched fantasy almost caused me to miss the train departure. Adjusting my hard on, I took a look around the cabin from my uncomfortable, gray-upholstered seat. There were three people sitting nearby and four at the very end of the cabin. It seems like the people at the end of the train had been drinking quite a bit and were talking and laughing loudly. They had thick Scottish accents, which means that I couldn't help but listen to them even though I could only understand half of what they said. There was a lady that looked like a teacher reading a book a few seats down and a man uncomfortably reclining and asleep at the table across the aisle from me. Stealing a glance, I could tell the guy was fucking hot. He was wearing a white t-shirt and blue-silverish athletic shorts, which was odd for such a cold night. He must have boarded earlier at either Glasgow or Aberdeen a few hours back, which would explain the punched tickets in front of him on the table. His head was resting on the window at a terribly uncomfortable-looking angle. His defined chest rose and fell slowly and his legs splayed open, one pulled against him and the other running lengthwise under the table. I was already mad with sex, but this guy was making it worse. I could feel my blood warm up. I stole another glance slyly so he or the lady nearby would not catch me checking him out. The corner of my seat was out of line of site, so I moved near the window so the lady couldn't see me. The guy was out cold and probably drunk, like the other people at the end of the train. He had red hair and a nice, muscular body that just managed to stretch his t-shirt. I could see the fabric where his nipples pushed at his shirt. There was a crumpled, green hoodie underneath the table, where it must have fallen. That explained the light clothing during the cool evening. I spent about five minutes just staring breathlessly at the guy. I could feel every movement of fabric against my skin. My cock strained against my jeans and my body got warm. Fantasizing about sex earlier had gotten me uncontrollably hot and I need to take care of myself or I was going to go crazy. I contemplated getting up to jack off in the bathroom. Nobody would know, I'm sure, and it wouldn't take long in my condition. Seriously, I would have traded a blowjob to any person that licked my teenaged jeans' crotch at that point. I rubbed myself absently and stood up. As I moved forward past his table, I saw it. The guy's cock was half-hard and the head was just showing right inside his shorts. And it was growing very slowly. The hottie must have been dreaming of sex or maybe even pretending to be asleep -- and had seen me watching! My fantasies re-emerged. Either way, I wasn't going to miss this, so I sat down directly opposite the aisle from him so his table wouldn't be in the way this time. His cock was huge and he had foreskin, which I had never seen before. Most of the guys I had seen back at home in the school locker room were cut. I wanted to see his hair, though and I wondered if it was red, too. I looked around self-consciously. While the lady nearby couldn't see my face, she might be able to see me rubbing my cock through my jeans if I played with myself. I looked around for a camera, too. There were small, black, upside-down domes on the ceiling at both ends of the cabin. While my sleeping guy and his cock were completely out of sight from surveillance, I was a little more exposed. I didn't want to take the chance of being caught masturbating in public or anything. The loud laughter from the other end of the train also made me nervous, even as the very faint smell of booze mixed with the growing smell of sex on my skin. It was intoxicating and a bit of a rush to be watching this guy's cock without him knowing. Or even better, if he did know and was getting aroused by my watching. Suddenly, the train door whooshed opened. I quickly turned back around and stared dumbly at my hands. I could feel the blood hot on my face, pumping in my neck, and I suddenly was thankful that I had an tan complexion. It was the train guard, "tickets from Edinburgh," he casually said. Maybe he wouldn't see me blushing and nervous. I looked quickly over at the guy to see if he would wake up. He stirred momentarily, but still seemed to be still sprawled out cold. I quickly stole another glance at his cock in case it was my last chance. At that very moment, his cock began to stand up straight and moved aside the fabric of his shorts. Looking away, I got butterflies in my stomach and my jeans immediately tightened at the crotch. I adjusted by pretending to stand up a little to get my ticket. Hand shaking just a little, I shoved my ticket at the train guard. "Cheers" he said as he punched my card without even looking at me and walked on to the lady nearby. He had passed up the guy across from me completely. It occurred to me that he must have already punched his ticket and so didn't have to check it again. I watched the train guard for another two minutes, which seemed like an eternity. No, the guy was straight and completely passed out. He would have hidden himself if he was pretending. The rocking of the train and the loud people, even the train guard didn't wake him. And the guy was definitely dreaming about sex. He would thrust his hips up ever so slightly and let tiny little gasps out as he did so. Time seemed to go so slowly. I stared at him, transfixed. During one of his little thrusts, his fabric moved aside just enough to show a small amount of hair. His table's shadow made the area dark, but I could see that it was light-colored. Yup, coppery-red, just like his hair. I trailed that up his enormous-looking cock, which towered out from the shadow. It was definitely bigger than mine. It must have been seven inches at least. I looked for precum, but I didn't see any. I precum a lot and I could tell that my underwear already had a wet spot on them from being so horny. His cock was throbbing, though. I rubbed myself for a few seconds before stopping. I took the sight in; the dark silhouette landscape passing by the window, the outline of his perfect nose and lips, his parted legs with the cock standing straight up out of his shorts. I almost got up to jack off right there. Again, I was stopped dead by him, this time drunkenly dragging his hand across his cock. He was still asleep, but it looked like he was trying to get off as well. Can you jack off in your sleep, I wondered? Maybe he's just playing with me and he's inviting me to suck him off or something? My heart skipped and my face flushed. I'd be so hot just to see him stroking. I had never even thought of getting fucked before, but I would have let him cum in me for just a short show. The train began to slow very slightly. I tore my eyes away from him and surveyed my surroundings. Seriously, nobody else could tell there was a gorgeous, horny man right in the car? Our isolation and people's lack of attention suddenly struck me. "We will shortly be arriving at Berrick-upon-Tweed. Please look around to make sure you have all your belongings and mind the gap while exiting the train. Next stop, Berrick-upon-Tweed." The other people in the car started to assemble their things. Oh, God, they were going to leave me alone with this guy. I stared straight ahead, willing everybody to not pay attention to anything. The guy kept stroking awkwardly once in a while, apparently stirred by the commotion of the train slowing. He had long eyelashes and a terribly handsome face with just a tiny bit of scruff. I looked back forward as the lady closed her book and put it in her bag. She got up and walked by our two tables. Either she didn't look down or the table was in the way, but she didn't seem to notice. The group at the other end of the cabin left through the other door. As the train stopped, I looked outside. There were no new passengers waiting to board the train at the station. A few people left our cabin and, slowly, the train started going again. It was just me and the stud across the way. He absently rubbed his cock and shifted position again. I waited a few minutes to see if anybody would walk through the cabin. The guy continued to put on a sleepy show, grabbing himself once in a while when the train jostled. I started to rub myself slowly through my jeans while watching him. I watched his muscular body and his raging hard dick for a while, rubbing myself just slightly. The teasing had gotten to me. His lips parted and he let out a low, soft moan. His dick twitched. That was it. My blood pumping, I couldn't hold back anymore. I wanted my first time and nothing was going to stop me. I was going to have it and if he woke up, I would tell him that he drunkenly invited me to do it. I was so stupid. Point was, I wasn't thinking when I slowly stood up and moved to the seat next to him. I hesitated for a second before sitting down. I'm sure the move away from the camera's view looked like the most suspicious thing in the world. But, there it was right beside me. Up and proud just begging to be used for my own pleasure. I paused for a moment and touched the guy lightly on the arm. "Hey," I whispered as I touched him slightly. I wanted to see if he was as passed out as he seemed. "Yeaahhh," he quietly garbled back, full of breath. The sound was more like a statement to someone you're fucking than an acknowledgment of my existence. That counts as consent, right? I paused again and then reached down to lightly brush his cock, ready to jump back to my own seat. I could feel the heat coming from his crotch as my hand approached him. My two fingers touched his skin. I held my breath. He gave a slow intake of air through his parted lips, but kept sleeping. I lightly brushed up and down his erect manhood. It looked even more formidable up close. While the area was warm, his skin was surprisingly cool. I looked directly into his eyes as I continued my slow up and down motion with the back side of my fingers. Still nothing. Looking back down, I closed my hand slowly around his shaft without moving it. I held my hand there for a moment and breathed out. I could feel his skin warming up in my hand and he slowly bucked up with his hips. My hand slid up and down slightly on his dick. I paused a moment and then kept that slow, gentle pace. I had never jerked myself off so slow, so I didn't think this would get him off or wake him up. Yea, I was totally jerking off this gorgeous Scotsman without him even knowing it. I wished that I could sit on his dick or fuck him senseless. Anything. I bit my lower lip and fantasized what it must feel like to get fucked by this guy. He bucked up in my hand again, raising his copper hair nearer to my hand. God, his cock was huge. It must have been twice as thick as mine and at least 8 inches, now that I could see it closer up. He gasped and I stopped jerking him off, holding my hand steady, heart pounding. He whimpered softly, scrunched his eyebrows, and bucked up again. His cock slid up harder into my hand this time. I kept the pace and began to fantasize about losing my virginity to this guy. His cock sliding into me, pulsing inside my ass, him leaking out of my hole. His cock swelled in my hand at my fantasy. I guess I was stroking harder than I thought, because suddenly he raised his eyebrows and whimpered again. Fuck -- fuck! He was about to cum. If he came all over, he would know he had been jerked off by someone. I dove down without thinking and put my lips to the head of his cock right as the sperm started flowing out. It was less like spurts and more like a slow, continuous stream into my mouth. And there was a lot. I was bent down in front of this other man, letting him cum into my mouth, feeling his tangy jizz fill me, and he didn't even know I was his little virgin bitch. There was too much, so I swallowed, still keeping my mouth around his expanded head. Nose down, eyes closed, I gulped and the warm cum slid down my throat into my stomach. His cock jerked and pushed father into my mouth. More cum jet into my mouth once, twice, three times. It was slightly salty sweet and accompanied by a musky scent rising from his drunken body. He moaned and made a slight sleepy sound. A small rivulet of cum had run down my hand onto his crotch. I panicked. I swallowed again, looked up quickly, then licked his shaft clean. He was still rock hard. I backed up slowly, breathing heavily, and turned around. I licked my hand quickly to get rid of any evidence and, heart still pounding, grabbed my stuff in a way that was supposed to seem calm. I walked purposefully into the connecting area between the next cabin and let out a deep breath as the door slid open and then closed behind me. I could still taste his sperm and my mouth tingled slightly where is cum had filled me before. I kept going, heart racing. I walked deliberately into the next cabin. There were a few people sitting here and there. I passed them by and conjured images of a pissed off guy barging in to kick my ass. Past rows of seats, I finally got to the other end and opened the door to the restroom. Once inside, I locked the door behind me. Some guy's jizz was in my stomach. I unbuckled my belt quickly and whipped out my own cock. Jerking furiously, I kept picturing the line of his nose and his parted lips and the feeling of his velvety skin on my own lips. I came in a few seconds. Ropes of my own boy cream noiselessly jetted onto the wall and seat of the restroom. I let out my breath. Fuck, that felt good. My nerves calmed a little and real worry started to set in. I cleaned up my mess and flushed my own cum down the toilet. Shame. I wish I had a nice mouth to accept my own sperm. But at least that stud's sperm deserved a warm stomach to inhabit. I waited about three or four minutes before leaving the restroom slowly. Nobody was outside. I grabbed my things and walked into the last cabin of the train, away from everybody else. I settled down and waited for the the rest of my trip. The train ride went by very slowly. And when I exited the train, I didn't stop to see what happened with the drunk stud with his cock hanging out. I just kept walking on to my next train, looking behind me only once. Nobody was there that I recognized. As I boarded the next train headed to Manchester Airport, as my slip of paper told me to do, I saw another good-looking red head on the train. Apparently, I had developed a thing for them in the last hour or so. I wonder why.