|
Wolf
Site Administrator
Location: Guelph Ontario, Canada. Stands: 6' 0"(183 cm) Weighs: 175(79.38kg) Blond/blue
Posts: 3419
|
 The Train Ride Home
Right after my eighteenth birthday and graduation from high school in 1973, our music teacher, Mr. Lange, decided to take all of us who were in our school's production of Gilbert and Sullivan's Pirates of Penzance to San Francisco to see some shows. I had played Major General Stanley, so I was thrilled to see a professional actor perform the role. It was exciting, since the biggest show I had seen before was Lily Tomlin in concert at the local junior college. We were going to see the King and I at the American Conservatory Theatre. We were also invited to see Pirates performed at the War Memorial Auditorium. I was overwhelmed with excitement. I went with many of my friends on the train to The Bay Area.
We left my hometown in the middle of the night. We arrived in The City at midday, feeling, what we thought, was the heartbeat of culture and society. We spent three days and two nights at the Hyatt Regency, going up and down the glass elevators. We ate on the wharf, shopped at Ghirardelli Square, rode the cable cars and did all the other tourist activities a gaggle of young folks could do. My musical colleagues and I, of course, thought we were the first to discover this new and exciting way of life. We were as yet unaware of the other exciting aspects to this City by the Bay, however.
The shows were wonderful, but in our silly youthful pride, we knew that our production of Pirates was much better than the one we were seeing performed professionally. I was tired after the three days were over. Most of my money was gone. My chums had grown wearisome to me. The train ride home was a welcome event, even though I would arrive home at one o'clock in the morning.
Waiting at the train station in Oakland, I began looking through the paperback books in the gift shop for something to read on the long ride home. I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep since I had such vampiric sleeping habits. While looking through the romances and thrillers, this man of about thirty-five years old approached me and asked me what I was reading. I told him that I hadn't made a decision yet, but that I thought I might purchase the book, Jaws.
"Where are you headed?" he queried.
For some reason, I wasn't afraid to talk with this swarthy, masculine man, because I was now cosmopolitan, having been to the theatre in San Francisco. Although I was a small town boy, barely eighteen years old and really, very naive, I now believed myself to be a man of the world. I told him that I was returning home on the next train. He shared with me that he was headed in the same direction. He was a choral teacher in Idaho and had to go through Seattle to get there. His name was Richard. I introduced myself as Ted. It sounded older than my usual nickname, Teddy.
Richard had a beautiful smile; one that truly lights up a room when he walks in. He wore an opened-neck shirt with a white crewneck T-shirt underneath. I could see, however, that his thick, barrel chest was very hairy as some of it peeked out over the collar of his undershirt. I noticed when he shook my hand upon our introduction, that the man had surprisingly long, thick hands with hair on his knuckles. Having grown up with Italian families, I recognized him immediately to be of Italian background.
The call for my train came, so I said how nice it was to meet him, wished him a good journey, and rejoined my friends for the embarkation. He responded in-kind and said that maybe we would see each other on the train. I just smiled and walked away. It seemed as though he was old enough to be my father, so any thoughts outside of being cordial were the furthest thing from my mind at that moment. That all changed as the sun began to set.
The train rolled quickly north from Oakland toward the Oregon border. The gentle jostling was somehow comforting. Every night, while I was growing up, trains would rumble by at the bottom of the hill on which I lived. I would feel the shimmy of my bed from the low, heavily weighted sound wafting from the tracks near the river. I was seated in my upholstered train seat, reading my book. My mind, however, could not concentrate on anything other than the man I met at the train station. He had entered my thoughts and caused a deep arousal I didn't understand at that time.
At about eleven o'clock that night, I couldn't keep the light on anymore for fear I would wake my classmates. I got up and began walking through the train cars. Finally, I decided to stand between the cars on the upper level where I could watch the night go by through the open window. The smell of cattle and rice fields permeated the fresh air that rushed by this Herculean train. While considering the events of the weekend that had just passed, I sensed a presence behind me. I certainly didn't want to encourage a conversation at that point so I didn't look around. I just wanted whomever it was to go away. After a few seconds, I heard a familiar voice say to me,
"Hello, Ted. I thought I might see you on the train."
I was startled to see Richard standing there. He still had his luminescent smile, but it now took on a more intimate hue. I graciously returned his smile and said how nice it was to see him again. He asked what I was doing standing between the cars so late at night. He wanted to know if I had girl troubles.
I said, "No, not at all."
"You do like girls, don't you?"
"Yes, I guess I do." I responded. There was a brief lull in our conversation until Richard commented,
"It gets very lonely on a train at night, doesn't it, Ted?"
"Yes, it does," was all I could muster.
I began to get increasingly nervous. Richard proceeded to put his hand on my shoulder and said,
"I get lonely, too. Sometimes it's nice to spend a little quiet time with a friend when I feel like this. Would you like to spend some quiet time with me?"
"Sure," I answered back, trying to interpret his question as innocently as I could. He started making small circles on my back with his meaty hand. His touch aroused in me dramatic, yet ambiguous feelings. At once, I wanted to run away and, at the same time, put my arms around him.
"You know, Ted, most boys don't touch each other like this; but, if you're okay with this, so am I."
"I'm okay. with this." I insisted. The circles on my back grew larger and lower as we stood there. He walked behind me and put his arms around my sides to touch my chest. My nipples grew instantly hard on my smooth brown chest. He pressed his hips into mine. Since he was only slightly taller than my five foot four inches in height, our bodies fit together very well. I could readily feel his growing excitement pressing into my backside. He put my hand in his and gently slid it between us onto his organ. At that moment, he saw a conductor walking up the aisle toward us. He said,
"C'mon, Ted. Let's go downstairs."
I obediently followed him downstairs. When we arrived in the walkway amongst the luggage, he suggested we go into the bathroom. By this time, his excitement was inescapably visible through his dark blue polyester trousers. Since I had only been with two boys my own age before this, and all we did was masturbate and suck each other, I was not prepared for what was to come next.
He guided me into the small washroom at the foot of the stairs. When the door to the lavatory closed, he embraced me tightly, kissing my neck and face. I could smell cigarettes and Italian food on his clothes. I reached up to press my hands against his thick chest, feeling his curly, black chest hair in relief under his T-shirt. He quickly redirected my focus to between his legs. I began rubbing his swollen shaft with my comparatively tiny hand.
After a couple of minutes touching and rubbing each other, he gently pushed me away so that he could open his pants. As he did this, his white jockey shorts shined brilliantly compared to the darkness of the dim little washroom. He appeared to be cruelly stuffed into his shorts, the fabric looking like it was about to tear under the strain. Both his breathing and facial expression made it clear to me that he was more than ready to release himself on me. As I pulled his shorts down, he removed his shirt and T-shirt over his head so that I could see his strong, hairy body. His enormous organ fell out of his pants like a heavy sausage tumbling from a poorly packed meat freezer. He was much larger than Randy or Curt. He had a great deal more hair around his shaft than I had ever seen and his testicles were huge. There was one other remarkable feature about his cock. He was not circumcised. I recognized this because I had not been circumcised until I was six years old. I reached for his straining monster to pull the sheath away from the huge head that waited beneath. The circumference of his rod was such that I could not begin to get my hand around it. I awkwardly used two hands to begin masturbating him. He had other ideas in mind for me, however. He insistently guided me to kneel on the floor so that I would have a more direct ability to accept his cock into my mouth. I couldn't get much more than his cock-head inside my adolescent jaw. I had to use my hands for the shaft itself. I sucked on it. I stroked it. Just when I thought he might cum, he stopped me. Richard lifted me by my shoulders to a standing position. He took down my pants and started stroking my dick. He then pressed himself against me and started rubbing our bodies together. His touch was like velvet on my rod, smooth, warm and completely inviting. Up to this point, I had become exclusively excited by the events. I felt attractive in a way that I never had before. An older man wanted me, and, this man had a huge dick and hairy body.
Everything changed in the moment he began to take my shoulders and turn me around so that my back was facing him. I remembered what Curt had once wanted to do to me. I recalled that Curt was too large to be able to penetrate my virgin rear end. This man, most assuredly would tear me apart if he tried. He began his final seduction by placing his rod against my butt cheeks. Richard began pushing his staff between my round orbs. I could feel the moisture from his pre-cum lubricating my ass. In that moment I knew I could do no more. I had to tell this man he could not put himself inside me. I was fully afraid of the actual, and most likely painful act of penetration and more frightened still of what that would mean. In my mind, I would be a “woman” like Roger, the local, flamboyantly fey hairdresser who would get run out of my hometown. It couldn't happen. Not yet. I told Richard I couldn't do what he wanted.
He continued to press his cock toward my entry, yet I gently but insistently avoided being completely skewered. Richard was not going to take no for an answer, though. He spit on his hand and used the spit and his pre-cum to lube his huge tool. He wrapped his meaty arms more tightly around my chest and whispered,
"You'll love this, Ted. Really you will."
While I tried to squirm away, he pushed his cock into my ass, allowing only a few of his many thick inches inside me. There was no amount of clenching I could do to prevent his mandatory entry. He withdrew a bit and this time forced more of his monster into my tight, virgin hole. Unsuccessfully trying to stifle my sound, I cried out in searing pain as he impaled me on the remainder of his enormous shaft. Richard spent ten minutes riding my ass, sometimes with his hand on my cock but usually with one hand around my chest and the other holding my hair. He guided me onto all fours, finally laying me flat on the floor so that I could support his pumping time and time again. He suddenly stopped his piston-like action and climbed off of me. I erroneously thought that maybe he had cum. But, no, he was preparing me for another position. He flipped my body onto my back, knelt in front of me, lifted my legs onto his shoulders and without a word or hesitation, he plunged his rigid pole into my ass; only this time, I had a full view of what was happening to me.
The visual image of his cock sliding in and out of my ass reluctantly, yet immensely excited me. I finally decided to release my anxiety and allow him to do whatever he wanted to me. There on the grimy bathroom floor on the train in the middle of the night, I lost my virginity to a stranger. Richard sensed that I was now giving tacit permission for him to fuck me into manhood. He leaned down and kissed me fully on the lips. I tried to turn my head, but he was insistent. Finally, I forgot the cigarette taste of his mouth and my misgivings about being a woman, and gave into his soft lips and almost loving caresses. He fondled my nipples as he continued his increasingly rapid and dynamic thrusts. Soon, he leaned over me with his hands on the floor on either side of me and began pounding me so hard I thought we would both fall right through the floor onto the train tracks. He suddenly stiffened and growled like nothing I had ever heard before. He was cumming inside me. I could feel the force of his semen hitting the walls of my ass. Spasm after violent spasm, he shot his hot liquid into my body, the weight of his body pinning me to the floor so that I could not escape the deluge. Soon, there was a trickle of his man juice falling to the floor from inside me. He was sweating profusely, the hair on his chest matted from perspiration. He lay on top of me, preventing me from breathing as fully as I needed. But, at that point, I didn't care. He finally lifted himself off the floor and began washing himself.
I just lay there, trying to realize what had just happened. I hoped that he would leave so that I could clean myself and make sense of the whole event. My ass felt as though it had been torn apart by an animal. Amazingly, this man was not done. He lifted me to my knees again and pushed his cock into my mouth, repeatedly humping my taut cheeks and lips until his spasms began again. My gagging seemed to urge him on more aggressively. He held the back of my head with his hands as he pumped his juices into me. I couldn't breathe. I had no choice but to swallow his semen. I was so tired and emotionally spent, I almost began to cry, but I couldn't allow myself to do that. I closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them I would wake up from this chilling dream. Before I looked out from behind my eyelids again, I felt a warm wet feeling on my own cock. Maybe to assuage his own guilt over forcing himself on me, Richard was not going to leave me unsatisfied.
Using his hand as an extension of his mouth, he began to slowly massage my cock. His movements became increasingly rapid as he felt me responding to his touch. It wasn't long before I was shooting my own fluids into his mouth.
After we were done, having gotten everything he wanted, he put on his happy face and thanked me for a good time. With my cum still on his lips, he kissed me. He told me to enjoy the rest of my trip, stuffed his still large, but now spent cock into his pants, zipped up and left me in the bathroom to wash my mouth out. I walked out of the lavatory alone, still afraid people would be able to tell I had been with Richard. I thought they would be able to smell his cum on my breath or his garlicky sweat on my body. Maybe I now looked different than before the rendezvous, I wondered. It was only thirty minutes before I would see my parents at the train station. I carried another bit of shame to keep hidden for the rest of my life. Had I had been raped? To this day, I'm not sure. I simply explained it to myself that it was a sexual experience that got carried away.
|
NEED HELP?
ATTENTION