Craving On A Train

Stuart leaned up against a door as the train rattled across the snow-muffled town. He was in the throes of a horny hangover and unable to stem a steady procession of erotic images across his mind's eye.

He looked across at the half dozen passengers in the carriage. Two were attractive -- a middle aged woman, blonde with delicate features, sharp cheekbones, green eyes and a dark young man, athletic and serious-looking.

Stuart decided that what he would most like to do would be to go over and sit between them placing one hand on each of their thighs. Their murmurs of approval would embolden him. The right hand would lift the skirt and her thighs would part themselves as it slipped into the bristling warmth of her panties. The left would undo the athlete's zip and gently free his engorged cock for all to see.

He imagined the two of them breathing heavily on either side of him. Other passengers transfixed as the eyes of his new friends widened at the brink of orgasm.

'Not socially acceptable, probably cause alarm' thought Stuart ruefully. Blissful way to travel though.

Something about the dark serous one reminded him of Henry Kerr and Stuart found another kind of sexual comfort in a daydream of warmth, comfort and Henry.

In his mind he transported the two of them from their draughty college lodgings to an idyllic beach of endless white and overarching blue.

The pair of them emerged from a skinny dip and we went for a lie-down on the sand to bake for a while in the sun. Stuart , up on one elbow, lost all sense of time just dreamily gazing at Henry lying there on his back with his hands behind his head. Such a delicious, smooth body, Stuart thought. He wondered if Henry would look up and see him standing there quite blatantly erect. He seemed to be dozing, though.

Stuart lay on his side next to Henry and began to caress him. Just a fingertip tracing down from his shoulder, round a nipple and making him twitch as it snaked left and right down his belly. Up on one elbow, Stuart began to kiss his chest, slowly, delicately, but with no intention of stopping. With a hand resting on his hip, Stuart kissed, then sucked at one nipple. Then the other. A tiny nip with the teeth at the end this time.

The kisses kept coming as, out of nowhere, Henry sensed a fingertip just at the base of his semi-erect cock. It travelled lightly to the tip before the other four fingers gently encircled it, bringing it to it's glorious fullness. To Stuart, it was smooth and warm and precious. The kisses lingered more now and Stuart tentatively begin to stroke the glans with his thumb...

Henry's murmuring made Stuart desperately hard and he couldn't help rubbing himself against the figure of his glistening roommate. Stuart moved Henry's leg slightly so he could slip his cock in between, resting against Henry's inner thigh and gently poking his balls as his hips involuntarily swing into Henry.

Stuart began to pull on Henry with longer, firmer strokes. He was murmuring encouragement and Henry got a tingling thrill as he felt Henry's hand come to rest on his back. As Stuart's kisses become harder and began to end in bites, Henry responded with more strokes and his beautiful cock twitched just behind the beat of Stuart's kisses.

Stuart didn't need to wank him any faster, all it took was longer, more emphatic pulls and he came thrillingly, throbbing in Stuart's hand as he showered his own lovely tense torso with glistening sperm.

Still holding Henry's softening cock like a fragile little bird, Stuart started to lick the cum from his chest, savouring his good work, and wondering what to do next. Should he lean over and kiss Henry? - he was voraciously eager - or manoeuvre himself into a position where his poor straining cock could start to push into him? He really and truly didn't know which would be more exquisite. In the end, he did neither, sitting up to see if Henry would take the initiative...

An blast of icy air from the opening doors of the train brought Stuart abruptly back to real life. A melancholy transition he thought. The sadness did not last long though. Before him was a row of half a dozen fellow-passengers, at least two of whom seemed to shooting glances at his obscenely bulging crotch. Come to think of it, all six of them seemed to be taking turns to look.

Stuart couldn't help smiling at his own embarrassment, even though he knew it would be seen as the shameless leer of a pervert. The attention wasn't helping either, and the shape of his cock was now quite apparent. One false move and it might peep over the waistband of his trousers.

At the risk of causing disappointment, Stuart held over the region of disgrace, a magazine, on whose front cover was a bikini-clad film starlet blowing the viewer a kiss.