Night Commute
by David Heulfryn

 

Night bathed the Capital, yet the sea of neon held back the darkness. I never usually worked this late, but today I had to finish the project and throw it on my boss’ desk before I left. In the next couple of days, I would be on a plane to forget about everything for a fortnight.

I took the tube from my office to the train station. I could not remember the last time I had taken a train this late at night, and the lack of a crowd took me by surprise. I supposed that not many people take a train home at ten o’clock in the evening.

The two-hour train ride back home was not something I was relishing. I was tired and just wanted to be at home relaxing with a glass of wine before going to bed.

I walked past the lone man on the ticket desk and headed straight for the platform; my season ticket was valid for another few months. Before I descended the damp wooden stairs to the correct platform, I looked up at the departures screen. Platform four. I was lucky; it should arrive in about five minutes.

I made my way to the centre of the platform, passing a tramp on a bench who lay asleep. Looking ahead, I noticed another bench further along the platform. I saw a young man sitting there with a large bag next to him, which took up the last available seat. I thought it best to stand; the train would be here soon anyway.

Feeling my stomach rumble, I made my way to the vending machines and got myself a bar of chocolate. It should satiate me until I could get home and have a sandwich. For want of something to do, I ate staring up at the screen which told me the time and when the train would get here. Just as I swallowed my last bite, the screen flickered and changed.

“Oh, fuck,” I said under my breath.

The train was now delayed by half an hour. The young man also noticed the change, and he shifted his position and slouched, settling in for a long wait.

Hell, I did not fancy standing up for another half-hour or so. So I walked over to the young man on the bench.

“Do you mind?” I motioned to his large bag that took up the rest of the bench.

“Oh, no. Sorry, mate.” He sat upright and grabbed his bag and lay it at his feet.

I unbuttoned my suit jacket as I sat down. “You look like you’ve been waiting some time.” I tried to make conversation.

“Yeah, ‘bout an hour now.”

He did not seem much younger than me, probably nineteen or twenty, with short brown hair and grey eyes. My eyes drifted from his face, and I saw that wore a dark shirt tucked into his black jeans. His jacket gaped open, so I could see the tiny mounds of his pecs and his nipples, erect and firm from the fresh night air, and the bulge in his jeans, accentuated by the folds in the fabric. He casually crossed his legs, and I watched the movement in his crotch.

“Ahem.” I brought myself back. “We’re you heading?”

“Just going back home for the weekend. Get some washing done and catch up with my old mates. I’m at Uni down here, and I don’t get back much. I thought I’d better show my parents that I’m still alive.”

“Which Uni are you at?”

“LSE, final year.”

“You’re kidding. I graduated from there last year and then got this job at this merchant bank.”

“I feel sorry for you. You became one of these suits who spend half the day commuting.”

“I know. It sucks big time. But I just can’t afford to live down here.”

His name was Ben, and chatting with him made me nostalgic for my university days. I went from a place where I had total freedom and a social life that was part of the syllabus, to a life with strict rules and strict deadlines. Since starting this job, I barely had any time for a social life and barely kept in contact with my friends. If I were lucky, we would get together every other week.

Chatting with Ben certainly made the time pass quickly as I heard the train arrive before I had a chance to look at the arrivals screen again.

As the train slowly came to a stop, we got up, and I followed Ben as he stepped aboard. He carried his bag ahead of him as he got on the train, and my eyes took in his tight and firm backside, my dick jumped, wishing to nestle between those cheeks.

I followed Ben as he moved along to the middle of the carriage, his bag stowed in the luggage space behind the seat, and he sat at a table seat. He shuffled over to be by the window, and I sat opposite him. Ahead of me was the only other occupant of the carriage, an old man with white hair who looked half-asleep.

The buffet carriage was never open at this time of night, so we just sat and talked some more. Ben relaxed and began to slouch in his seat. He became very soft spoken, and just as I saw him give me a wicked smile, I felt something soft creeping up my thigh and rest on my crotch. He had slipped off his trainers, and I felt his toes play with my limp dick and balls. I sat quietly, just looking into his eyes that held my gaze as my dick steadily got harder.

With my dick tenting my loose trousers, Ben brought his other foot up and grasped my dick with his toes. He slowly wanked me with his feet, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation.

I jumped as a voice echoed down the train from the tannoy. We were coming up to a station. I saw the man ahead of me, slowly move and get to his feet. He gingerly made his way down the train to the door and waited for the train to stop.

Ben sensed my dick deflate as we pulled into the station and dropped a foot to the floor, leaving one foot resting on my crotch to remind me that he was not going away.

The station was small and dark. I couldn’t see anyone on the platform until the old man emerged from the train and slowly made his way to the exit. We waited for only a few more seconds, and I heard a whistle, a door slam, and the train jolted itself back into motion.

“That’s a bit of luck.” He winked at me. “We’ve got the place to ourselves.”

His foot began rubbing me again, but when I was only half-hard he stopped and removed his foot. I wondered what was going off. In a fleeting moment, I even wondered whether I had upset him. But he got up from his seat and sat next to me. He looked into my eyes and moved his hand to where his foot had been only a few seconds ago. It felt good, and my dick responded immediately and strained my trousers. He unzipped my fly and slipped his hand in. He felt the tip of my dick through my tight briefs and the small damp patch that had emerged. My dick tingled, and I groaned softly.

After a couple of firm jerks of my shaft through my cotton underwear, he began to unfasten my trousers. He opened the two flaps and exposed the bulge in my briefs from my dick and throbbing balls. He teased the tiny hairs that crept from the waistband and carefully teased his fingers under, and I finally felt his flesh on mine. He cupped his hand under my balls and stretched my briefs out until the elastic constricted back and slipped down his hand to rest under my balls.

As he removed his hand and my clammy dick was out in the open, I smelled the familiar scent of sweat and pre-cum. I looked down and saw my dick pointing back at me, my foreskin partially retracted so that I could see the glistening tip and a small droplet emerge from my slit.

Ben grasped the base, and his head came down so that his tongue could lick my slit dry. His lips then enveloped my knob as his fingers drew my foreskin back further, his tongue now dancing around my pulsing ridge.

I threw my head back, my breathing becoming shallow as I enjoyed his gentle licking. He gave the head such expert attention that I thought I would come soon. Ben must have sensed my impending orgasm and released my dick from his mouth, allowing the cool air to tease it further. He looked up at me and smiled, one hand gently massaging my aching balls, the other released its grip from the base of the shaft and played with my full pubic hair.

“I hope you’re not always this quick on the trigger.” Ben’s smile widened.

“No. It’s just been some time.” I breathed back.

I felt my dick deflate slightly, but it soon got back to full mast after Ben swallowed my dick in one fluid motion. I could feel the tip rub the back of his throat, but he did not gag. He slowly moved his head up and down, his tongue teasing my shaft with each stroke. As he blew me, his hand continued to massage my balls, and I felt his fingers explore behind. They snaked ever closer until his finger rested on my eager hole. It was relaxed from the blow-job he was giving me, so he had no problems in pushing his finger through and as deep into me as he could get. It felt slightly uncomfortable as he thrust his dry finger inside, but my own glands soon lubricated it for him. Feeling brave, I felt Ben push a second finger inside me. It had been some time since I had been fucked, and I was surprised at how quickly my arse remembered and opened up for him. Each time he withdrew his fingers my muscles would tighten, desperately trying to prevent the invaders from leaving, holding on for every ounce of pleasure they could steal, before being rewarded as the fingers were driven deeper within.

It all felt so amazing as I sat in my seat, head back, eyes closed with my arms dangling limply at my sides and Ben at my lap ensuring I enjoyed every moment. I did not care if anyone came in and caught us. I just wanted Ben to carry on. Perhaps being on a train and the risk of being caught heightened my arousal, but I had never felt this sexually charged before and I could feel the pressure building up waiting to be released in an explosion.

As Ben could feel this tension grow, he stopped going down on me and gently pressured my dick-head with his lips. His fingers stayed firmly inside me, resting on my prostate. He relaxed a few moments before simultaneously massaging my prostate with his fingers and feathering the glans of my dick with his tongue.

Oh, god. I could not take much more of this. My hands closed into fists, and I pushed hard into my seat, lifting up my backside, which gave Ben unfettered access. Tried as I might, I could not stifle a low guttural groan and my face contorted into some rictus of pleasure. A wave emanated from deep within me and flowed through my aching balls and into my dick. As it reached the tip, I felt my muscles convulse, and a shower of cum burst out and into Ben’s mouth. He stopped everything and clasped his lips firmly around the head of my dick as wave after wave thrust more and more come into him. It felt like the orgasm would never stop, but with each lessening blast my mind came back down to earth, my arms relaxed and as I sat back down in my seat I felt Ben slide his two fingers from inside me. I felt empty and drained. My dick stopped twitching, and Ben loosened his grip with his lips. I felt a little of my cum escape from his lips and run down the underside of my shaft. It was now cold and tickled as it flowed down to pool between the base of my dick and my sac.

I felt Ben swallow the cum I had shot into his mouth, and then he went about cleaning my slowly softening dick with his tongue. As he pulled away, my dick flopped onto my balls, and I felt the squelch as it disturbed the pool of cum that he missed from my balls. His hand delved underneath my balls and released my underwear. Now covered, he gave me one final squeeze through the thin material before closing my trousers and zipping up my fly.

Ben lifted his head back up and sat back into his seat. I looked over at him and smiled. Glancing down at his crotch, I could see the bulge of his own hard-on straining vigorously, waiting to be satisfied. I moved my hand to feel him. It was as hard as a rock.

“I think someone else needs to be set free.”

Ben took hold of my hand and removed it from his crotch. “I know what I want.” He said and looked me directly in the eye. “Follow me.”

He got up and I, like a lovesick lapdog, followed him to the small and pokey toilet. Ben locked the door behind me and turned me to face the wall. I instinctively raised my hands to brace myself and bent slightly forward, pushing my eager arse in his direction. He put his arms around my waist and fumbled with my trousers. As he unclasped them, he grabbed the waistband. With two fist-fulls of trouser and underwear, he pulled them down to just below my cheeks. I felt the gentle caress of his fingers on my smooth buttocks and heard him inhale deeply, then his touch disappeared. I heard him unbutton and adjust his jeans. Then I felt the burning of his angry cock-head burrow between my cheeks and rest on my waiting pucker.

Ben twisted his body and reached over to the liquid soap dispenser. With a couple of tugs, he brought the palm full of soap back and rubbed it over his dick and into my crack. I could not wait for Ben to begin so I pushed my arse further back, reversing into his throbbing dick. But as I felt the touch I wanted, Ben withdrew and slapped my right buttock.

“Not ‘til I’m ready.”

But he was ready, and I felt him thrust forward, easily breaching my arsehole and ploughing deeper into me. It was a shock at first, but this was what I was waiting for, and the first vestiges of pain subsided to become the pleasures I had not felt for some time.

Ben did not stop or slow down. He wanted my hole, and he was talking it. His dick felt so hard inside me and rubbed mercilessly against my prostate that with each stroke, I felt my own little orgasm. Sweat soon began to pour from my head to drop on the dirty metal floor beneath me.

Despite the intense pleasures I was feeling, my dick had not recovered from the blow-job Ben had given me and just flailed in front of me, slapping against my thighs, belly and balls. Ben, with his hands on my hips, ravaged my hole with long swift strokes while grunting and groaning.

I did not care that I was not hard. I did not care that the force Ben was ramming his dick up my arse should hurt like hell. I just cared that I finally felt that deep satisfaction that only a hard dick up the arse could give you.

Ben’s initial enthusiasm and energy began to wane, and his strokes became slower.

“You have one sweet arse.” He breathed in my ear and slowly withdrew his dick from inside me.

As he came further out, my muscles tried to suck him back in, but it was inevitable, and as his knob head slipped past my sphincter, it slammed shut, and I felt empty with the only consolation of the tip of his cock still pressed against me.

I felt him press against me but missed the target. He carried on pushing, and his dick slid down, rubbing between my cheeks and sliding between my legs, snaking its way forward. He stopped as it tickled my balls, and he ground his hips against me. His motion pushed his dick further and rolled over my balls to poke at my limp dick. I looked down and just saw the red tip touching me before it disappeared beneath me, leaving a strand of pre-cum in its wake.

Ben positioned his cock against my hole again and pushed. I groaned and pushed back until I could feel the hair on his balls tickle my smooth buttocks. His hands gripped my hips again, and he continued to fuck me. I stood passively against the grubby wall allowing Ben to use me, to use my hole. This time my dick responded and swelled to half-mast. My dick head became sensitive as it swayed with each thrust. Ben was intent on fucking me until he came, nothing else at that moment mattered. He fucked me harder and harder, his rasping breath on the back of my neck.

I felt he was getting closer. His balls no longer slapped against me and he thrust deep within me with a renewed vigour.

Then he stopped. His dick deep inside me, his pubes nestling the top of my crack, his balls tucked in at the bottom.

Ben let out a long, low groan, and I felt his dick pulse as he shot his seed inside my bowels. Ben, exhausted, draped himself on my back to support his weight, my bowels contracting to milk his dick dry.

We both stood motionless until his orgasm subsided, and his dick stopped pumping. He slowly withdrew his dick and tucked it back into his pants, buttoned up his jeans and zipped up the fly.

I fumbled with my trousers and pulled them up with my briefs to cover my moist arse. I turned to look at Ben, but he was busy opening the door. I followed him back to our seats.

As I sat down, I felt very uncomfortable. My moist backside was now leaking cum. I could feel it soil my briefs and hoped it would not leak through my trousers.

Ben did not speak. I did not speak.

This was ridiculous. I’d had some of the best sex in my life, and I was only a couple of stations away from home. I looked at Ben, who sat looking out the window into the darkness.

I bit the bullet. I spoke. “That was great.”

Ben did not move. His eyes were still fixed on the darkness through the window.

“Can we meet up again?” What a stupid thing to say. It sounds like all I want is more sex from him. “I mean to get to know each other.” I quickly added, hoping I had redeemed myself.

Ben slowly turned his head to me. I knew I wanted him, his kiss, his dick and his arse, none of which he had yet given to me. He had been the one to take everything, and I had not even got a taste of his lips in return.

After a while, Ben broke the silence. “It’s complicated.” He said and left it at that.

For the rest of the journey, we did not speak.

It felt strange to be with this young man, to have experienced what we had and to not speak.

We both got off at the same station. We walked together to the exit, and we stopped.

“I’m going to get a taxi here. See you then.” I said, thinking that this was it. We would never cross paths again.

As I walked away, I heard his voice.

“I’ll be on this same train again in four weeks.”

I stopped but did not turn around. I smiled to myself and walked to the nearest taxi.

 

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