This is a true story by Michael Stewart, written for NYC's Pier BBS in 1987. Copyright (c) 1987, all rights reserved; permission granted to the "Nifty Andrew" archive for online "publication" and distribution.
Comments and lewd propositions may be sent to Michael at brooklyn@yorick.ny.cybernex.net
"On A Rush-Hour Train"
The Diary of Michael Stewart: Monday, October 26, 1987 -
Mondays have never been my favorite day at work, but this Monday was going to be the fucking pits - I had to be in at 7:30 AM! For those that don't know, I work in Manhattan and live in the ass-end of Brooklyn, which meant I had to leave the house at 6:00 AM. Blech!
Usually, when I have to go in that early, I catch some sleep on the train if I'm sitting or read if I'm standing, but as luck would have it, I was standing and the lights didn't come on after the train went underground (the "L" line starts at ground-level, then turns elevated, then turns into a subway). As usual, it picked up tons of people at each stop, and by the time it hit Myrtle Avenue (one of the big transfer stations), the train was pretty full, but I suddenly didn't mind.
I was standing in the corner, right by the connecting door, and right in front of me was a fucking god! Tall, slim, dressed in a leather-jacket and half-opened shirt (how come they never get cold?), and bulging jeans, complete with a thin, dark moustache and slightly longish dark, curly hair, this guy would be enough to grab anyone's attention!
Although the darkness was a big factor in this little tale, I'm sure the fact that he and everyone else standing around were positioned in such a way as to block us off from view helped as well. We were kind of standing there face to face, him in his leather jacket, me in my trench coat, and every time the train lurched (those that have ridden the "L" in Brooklyn know how much it lurches), we were kind of bumped together. After one hard especially hard jolt, he sort of looked at me and sheepishly grinned. What a smile! 6:30 in the morning, and I was in love!
I, of course, started to get stiff, what with his looks and the forced body contact and the atmosphere in the crowded, dark subway car. I also started carefully checking the guy out, keeping my head sort of bent, staring at his groin. The only time I could get any kind of a view was when the car chugged past a tunnel light, and when we were in a station.
After a few more stops, things were even more crowded, and he was almost continually pressed against me, face to face, groin to groin. I was hard as a rock, and was sure that the next time we bumped, I'd shoot in my pants. I also got a little more brazen checking him out, figuring he couldn't see me in the dim light. He was a really handsome guy, mid to late twenties, I guessed, and from what I could make out of his basket, nicely hung. I guess I got a little too obvious about it, because after pulling out of one station where I'd spent the time looking him up and down, he leaned over and whispered to me, "You like looking at me, don't you?"
I almost shit myself, but as nervous as I suddenly got, I nodded. He leaned a to my ear again and said something like, "Watch this." I wasn't gonna miss this for the world! Up until now, he had had his hand on the sliding door, supporting himself, but now he moved it between our bodies, right to the bulge of denim between his legs. He started kneading it (that's the best word for it), and I could feel my dick getting harder and harder in my pants. Not wanting to miss a second of the show, I just mouthed the word, "Wow."
His hand disappeared for a minute and I thought, show's over, and then I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt him grab hold of my hand. He pulled it toward him, and put it right on his cock bulge! If you've read any of the other stuff on here, you know I'm not the kind to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I repeated what he had been doing to himself, squeezing what felt like a really thick cock through his pants. In the meantime, he reached over and started feeling mine, which, as I recall, was tenting my pants almost in a straight line over toward my hips.
I remember looking away for a second to make sure we were still unobserved, and the next thing I knew, he was pulling down my zipper! Even if the train hadn't been crowded and dark, I probably would have let him do it, just to make it with this guy. He reached into my pants, and after I shifted a bit, pulled my stiff dick out my fly. Fair's fair, I thought, and tugged his fly down, reaching in to find he wasn't wearing underwear. He obliged me by shifting a bit, and soon both our cocks were out - on the goddamned subway! He moved closer to me, and grabbed both our dicks in his hand, and was rubbing them. I could smell him now, a good, clean, macho scent, mixed with the leather smell and sex smell we were generating. Better than any Rush!
If we had been alone - really alone - I'd have grabbed in my arms and started exploring his chest with my tongue while he jacked both our rods, but I couldn't here. Instead, I just stared into his eyes, and he stared into mine, his hand only slowing - not stopping - whenever we pulled into another station.
Finally, we pulled out of Bedford Avenue, and had to ride through the long tunnel under the river before coming to the next stop in Manhattan. This was it.
His hand started moving faster, and I reached around with my hand and came up under his jerking fist, and stuck a couple fingers into his open fly and started fingering his nuts. We were still staring into each other's eyes, and he had his half-closed now, and looked so fucking hot! Wow!
I was getting really close to shooting, and mouthed, "I'm cumming!" to him. He nodded and half-smiled - he was too. He dropped my cock, and I grabbed it finishing myself. With the strobe effect of the tunnel lights shining in through the doorway window, I watched him move his other hand to cup his balls while he kept stroking. That did it... I had to half-turn, to avoid shooting the cum on either one of use, and blasted it all over the door. While I was spurting, I noticed him creaming too, doing the same thing - shooting on the door, mixing our loads together.
The strangest thing about the whole experience was the due to the circumstances, neither one of us could moan or groan or be too obvious about what we were doing. We just kept our eyes glued to each other's except when we were shooting, and then we were watching each other's cocks! We went back to looking into each other's eyes as we zipped ourselves up, just in time to pull into First Avenue.
For the next few minutes, we just stood there, our breathing settling back to normal. As we were pulling out of Third Avenue (the next stop on the line), I realized I was getting off at the next stop, and since it was still crowded enough to get away with it, I reached up and kept my hand on his cock bulge until we got there, wanting to remember this scene and this guy.
As the doors opened, I gave him a quick smile and ran, right up the stairs to catch the uptown train. I stood there, right at the top of stairs, waiting for a train to come, and who do I see coming up the steps but Him! He saw me, too, for the first time in real light, and walked over to me and smiled.
"Hi," he said, "my name's Paul." I introduced myself, and I knew he enjoyed it as much as I did when he smiled That Smile again. We rode the uptown train together and chatted a bit, and since he doesn't work too far away from me, we agreed to meet sometime for lunch...or maybe another subway ride.