a train experience

I was off to Florida, away from the dreary streets of Manhattan. My Aunt lived in Florida and my parents had agreed that as I had just turned 18, I could go visit her for the Winter Break. I thought I would fly, but my parents suggested I take the Silver Meteor to Jacksonville and my Aunt could meet me there. “You’ll see a lot more of the Country than if you were just flying over it.” Actually, the thought of a train ride was great. This wouldn’t be like the subways I took each day, but a real true to life train, with dining cars and all the trimmings. I agreed and my parents bought me a ticket.
The train left in the evening, around 9:30 p.m. and would arrive in Jacksonville the following morning. I kissed my parents good-bye at the train station and with the help of a conductor, found my seat. It was a great seat, wide, comfortable and next to the window. After my parents had left, I quickly slipped off the train and went to a magazine stand. I bought three porn mags, two of hetero and, with a blush, one of men on men, or I should say young guys with young guys. I then bought a newspaper. I hid them in my briefcase and boarded the train five minutes before it pulled out.
I loved riding the train, watching NYC go by, and then moving into the suburbs. My parents had been right, this was the way to go when you had the time, and I had plenty of time. After awhile, other passengers began to turn off their lights. I was amazed that I had the whole row to myself when, suddenly, a man in his late forties sat down in the aisle seat. He was slim, with silver hair and a thin, good-looking face. I noticed his hands, which were very well manicured and had long, thin, fingers. They looked like a pianist’s hands. He was very well dressed, immaculate in a white shirt, blue pants, blue blazer and a beautiful red tie. He smiled at me, “do you mind?” he asked and I shook my head. What the heck, I knew I could look at my mags inside the newspaper I had bought and that I could keep a blanket over my lap to hide the erection I knew I was going to get. Just thinking about the mags made my cock feel full, ready. I loved jerking off, and loved jerking off in strange places even more. I realized that I wouldn’t be able to masturbate in my seat with the man there, but knew that the bathroom was available.
He talked for awhile, asking me where I was going, what school I went to, just chit chat. He told me that he was, in fact, a pianist for a small symphony in the city. “I like it,” he had enthused, “I’ve been in the big symphonies before and there are just too much politics.” Finally, our conversation ebbed. I wanted it to end so I could get out my newspaper, and the porno mags I had bought. Ron, for that was his name, finally wound down, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. I opened my briefcase, slid a hetero mag out, and put it in the newspaper. Then, with the newspaper as cover, began to peruse its contents. I was befuddled by my sexuality. I was jealous of those who said “I have always been gay, since birth,” or “I love women, I’m purely hetero.” I was confused, that I knew. I loved women, their big, steamy breasts. And I loved men, their hot, hard cocks. My experience was limited. I had actually penetrated only one girl, and she was not the best looking girl in our school, by any description. In fact, she was a known “slut,” and would fuck anybody. I fucked her on the soccer field after a school dance. Three other guys had fucked her before I had, I had watched, so she was slippery as hell when I shoved into her. And she had been drunk. So, I couldn’t say I had great experience in the hetero area. My experience in the gay area was just as limited. A friend had gotten drunk and admitted he was gay. He was overweight, and not very good looking, but had performed oral sex on me, which was okay, and I had jerked him off, which was also okay, though his penis was very small and thin.
So, here I was on a train, a confirmed masturbation addict who loved porno of all kinds, and a confused 18 year old who got hard when the wind blew. The hetero mag was good, beautiful, but real looking women getting hammered by long, fat cocks. Anal was especially hot for me, as I loved to shove stuff up my greedy asshole. I had always loved anal penetration and practiced it often, though I had to be creative with what I used as I really had no where to store dildos, even if I was willing to pay the exorbitant price the adult stores asked for them. I hardened fully, and looked over at Ron. He looked asleep. He had reclined the seat fully and put a pillow under his head. I surreptitiously reached under the blanket, adjusted my seven-inch cock, and rubbed the head a bit for luck. Then went back to the magazine.
After I had fully perused the first, I went to the second hetero mag. It wasn’t as good, but was still worth pondering over. As I sat there, hard as stone, I wondered if I should go jerk off in the bathroom now, or wait. I decided to wait, and took out the gay magazine I had bought. It was phenomenal. Great looking young guys, hard, with big, immense pricks. There was a great spread of anal sex between two hot studs, bareback and deep. It made my asshole itch and I wondered if I could chance shoving the cucumber I had brought with me up my asshole in the bathroom, or if it was too risky. I had been rubbing my cock under the blanket and had even chanced pulling the knob out, wetting it with spit and really giving it a good going over. My nipples, which were big, were also getting a careful, secretive work out. It seemed as if they were, somehow, tied to my cock and the more I pinched them, pulled at them, even clamped them with clothespins, the more sensitive they became. I decided to slip the cucumber into my pocket, and go jerk off in the bathroom. I was horny as hell and really needed relief.
As I carefully stood, loath to wake Ron, his eyes opened and he looked directly at my crotch, which was almost right in front of his face. I knew the bulge my still half hard cock made was visible, and so I blushed.
“Oh, sorry Tory, where you going?” I mumbled something about the bathroom, and then maybe to the dining car. As I started to move, he smiled and said, “you sure you aren’t going to go to the bathroom and masturbate?” That stopped me, dead. I gaped at him. He laughed lightly. “Oh, sorry Tory. I didn’t mean to embarrass you but next time you look at porno magazines in a railroad car, be sure that you don’t sit next to the window.” He pointed, and I realized that while I was sitting there, thinking I was so smart hiding the magazines in the newspaper, they were clearly reflected in the clear glass of the window. “They seemed to be pretty good ones, especially the last.” I didn’t know what to say. He was referring to the gay mag, and that really embarrassed me. He just looked at me steadily. “Why don’t you sit back down for a moment?” I did. For a moment he seemed at a loss for words. Finally, and with some trepidation, he said, “I can help, Tory.” I had no idea what he was talking about and I suppose my expression clearly conveyed my confusion. “With your problem,” he said, looking at my crotch. And then I realized what he was saying, and got scared shitless. He was homosexual! And he was offering to have sex with me! I started to bumble about how I wasn’t really like that, I really liked girls and had just got that magazine out of curiosity. He just looked at me. Finally, I ran down. He turned towards me. “Look, Tory, I am merely offering, that’s all. I just thought that if you liked magazines like that, maybe you would like to experience it, that’s all. If you don’t feel comfortable, don’t worry. I’m not going to bite you, after all.” He suddenly smiled, “unless you ask me to, of course.”
I mumbled something about how tired I was, then turned away and pretended to try to sleep. He was silent. And I guess I did sleep, at least for a while. When I woke up, I was facing him, all curled up, and drool wetting my shirt. I didn’t move, just opened my eyes. Everything was dark, except Ron had a tiny reading light on. And by that light, I saw his cock. He had his pants open, but not pulled down. His shirt was pulled up above his nipples, which were big, even bigger than mine, and hard. His cock was fully erect, long, maybe nine inches. The shaft was thin, thinner than mine, but the head of his prick was huge, a gigantic mushroom on top of a thin stalk. It was an angry red, beginning to turn purple from the movement of his hand. He was slowly jerking off. His pee slit was oozing pre-cum, and as I watched, through half closed eyes, I saw him rub the slippery fluid over the gigantic, angry cock head. I was fascinated with what I was seeing. My own prick swelled. It was like looking at a magazine, but this was real.
“You don’t have to pretend you’re not looking Tory, I don’t mind.” I felt myself blush.
“I should call the conductor.” I said, trying to bluff my way out of my embarrassment.
He just smiled, “oh, go ahead if you wish to. I will just stuff it back in my pants and, well, you’re the one with the gay porno mag, aren’t you?” And that floored me, he was right, I was. I mentally shrugged, I wouldn’t have called the conductor anyway. “Have you ever seen a man’s cock, Tory?” I shook my head. He opened his pants more, giving me a better look. I realized something I had not picked up on before, he was shaved, completely, bald as an egg. He showed me his testicles, big, much larger than mine. “You can watch, Tory, if you wish.” And he went back to slowly stroking his prick, playing with the inordinately huge, angry red knob.
“Are you gay?” I asked. And then I realized the stupidity of my question, “I mean, you know, just gay, not hetero at all?”
He smiled, “I know what you mean. Oh, I’m married, have been for twenty years, but I prefer men, always have. Understand?”
I shook my head, confused. “I thought, well, you were one or the other?”
He slowed his hand motion, just keeping his cock hard. He was clearly trying to frame his words. “I don’t know Tory. I guess if you told me I could only be one or the other, I would go with men for that is the kind of sex, the kind of company I really love. But I have good sex with my wife. I know she has other men, and she knows I like men, and we live with that. It is tough to understand, but it works.”
I was quiet for awhile, just looking at his cock, feeling my own erection throb. The only guy sex I had was with a kid I didn’t really like, but I really wanted to feel a penis. Looking at Ron, I suddenly knew that sex with him would be different, and, I realized, better, a lot better. I nodded.
He chuckled quietly, “well, if you really do understand you’re doing better that I am, for I am still a bit confused, even after all these years.” He looked right at me. “But what I do know, is I would gladly suck your cock until you shot your load into my mouth.” His sudden lapse into dirty talk stunned me for a moment, but then got me hot as hell. He was looking right at me. “Tory, you don’t need to do a thing. Just lean back, imagine what you want, or look at your magazines.” His hand was moving faster now. Without any warning, he moved into the seat next to me, his long cock flopping around as he did so. “No one will see, Tory. They are all asleep, and none of them are able to see even if they were awake.”
I had always loved risk, especially exhibitionistic risk. Jerking off in men’s rooms at the urinal, scared some man would come to the one next to me and see, or in dressing rooms. I would get so hot thinking about the cameras everyone said were in those rooms, and some security guard watching me jerk off, come on a handkerchief and slide the full cotton back into my pants. I had jerked off in weird places, and now Ron wanted me to have sex in public, with a man! And I nodded. He wasted no time, his hand snaking to my pants, undoing the button. I moved the seat into a reclining position and looked all around. The only person I could even see was a young woman, two rows away and she was clearly asleep. Even if she weren’t, she wouldn’t be able to see Ron’s head in my lap.
He pulled my hard cock out of my pants, and without any waste of time took the entire length into his mouth, down his throat. I thrust, it felt GOOD! As he blew me, I watched him jerk on his own cock. I wanted to touch it, and even to suck it. But most of all, I wanted it shoved up my ass. And that thought took me over the edge, and with a low grunt, I gave him the load he wanted. And he didn’t miss a beat, taking it all, swallowing each part of it and milking me until I had no more to give. Then he carefully cleaned my cock, slid it back under my pants and buttoned them. Then he leaned back, his long prick in clear view. He pulled up his shirt, twisted and pinched one of his nipples, and then came all over his chest and flat stomach, thrusting his prick as if he was penetrating a cunt, or a young man’s asshole I thought.
He smiled, and then wiped himself with a handkerchief he had pulled from his sport jacket pocket. “That was, well great Tory, really great!”
I just smiled and nodded. It had been great, but not as fulfilling as I had wanted. I wanted his cock in my ass. A slam announced the conductor coming into the carriage. Ron moved quickly to his seat, and I made sure I was fully buttoned up. I was. The conductor said nothing as he passed us by. I fell asleep. I awoke once or twice and saw Ron asleep as well. As the sky lightened, I knew we weren’t far from Jacksonville. Ron was happy, giddy almost and he talked me into going to the dining car and eating breakfast. It was great, he ordered champagne, and made sure I had some. He was great to be with, funny, and easy to talk to. The conductor came through the car announcing our arrival in half an hour. I wished the train ride could have gone on forever.
“Look, Tory. Why not come spend a day or so with me. My wife and kids are out of town, at her mother’s and won’t be back for a week. I live on the beach, it will be great.” He looked at me, and I told him my Aunt was supposed to pick me up. He seemed to mull it over, “okay, look, we can meet during the day, or at night.” And I nodded. He gave me his number, “call me, please.” He had a note of begging in his voice. I nodded again. But as I said goodbye to him, and as he begged me again to call him, I didn’t think I would.
My Aunt was glad to see me, and it was great riding with her back to their house which was also on the beach. She was good-looking, a bit overweight, but with great big breasts which fired my imagination. “You’ll love it here Tory, really. The neighborhood is great and the beach is a walk across the dunes from our back door. As we pulled into her driveway, I noticed the house next door. It was huge, gorgeous.
“Wow,” I said, “who lives there?”
My Aunt smiled, “oh, a very famous pianist. I think they are away right now, but they are a gorgeous couple. I think his name is Ron, Ron Ragaway.” And suddenly I realized I wouldn’t have to make the decision to call Ron or not, I just had to walk fifty yards to his front door! And my prick moved and my asshole itched, anticipating what would happen over the next week.