Date: Sun, 6 Dec 2009 00:42:15 +0000
From: kevtrainerboy@googlemail.com
Subject: On the train again.

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?'