"Why are these conferences always so long?" I asked myself as I descended into the busy Tube station. I was attending yet another boring medical conference, which was packed with lots of two-hour seminars scheduled continuously throughout the day. In theory, it helped keep my medical knowledge current with the pace of modern science and technology. In reality, it provided me with an annual excuse to get out of the house and escape Melissa for a few days. You see, I have needs that arise a lot more frequently than Melissa would like to accommodate. Right before she got pregnant, she indulged me quite a bit - after all, we needed to make the baby - but then afterwards, she became more withdrawn from sex. "Why didn't any of these men go to medical school?" I wondered, as I checked out the well-dressed, impeccably groomed businessmen filing into the crowded Tube car. Perhaps it was just the attire, or my lack of wifely attention at home, but many of the men were perfect specimens of masculinity. To entertain myself, I began undressing these men in my mind. One handsome dark-haired gentleman in his thirties was reading the paper against the door, his broad shoulders filling out his suit jacket, leading up to a square jaw which was developing a very sexy five o'clock shadow. Although I usually like to top, this man's rugged good looks had me imagining what sex with him would be like - he'd probably be forceful, pushing me into whatever position he needed, using his large frame to dominate me. I felt my cock lengthen somewhat in my boxer shorts.
Turning away, I spotted a young man with short blond hair listening to his iPod as he leaned against a pole. Although he looked like he was in his late teens, he was obviously some kind of businessman or lawyer in his fitted shirt and tie. As I gazed at this cute boy, I realized how well fitted his shirt actually was. I could make out both of his nipples poking their way through the fabric, and the tightness of the shirt revealed that this young man was developing a nice set of pecs under his shirt. My eyes followed his body down; his torso tapered down to a thin waist with a sizable bulge in the crotch. What I would give to see this boy in a Speedo, I thought. Just then, the young man dropped his iPod and bent over to pick it up, treating me to a glimpse of his tight ass. I fantasized about stepping up behind him and plunging my cock between those round cheeks. My cock throbbed and expanded further down my trouser leg.
I'd forgotten how packed these Tube cars could get during rush hour in central London. Not exactly the best place to be caught with a hard-on. It seemed that at every stop, more and more people pushed into the train car, until I found myself wedged in place, unable to move. The train continued to lurch forward through the dark tunnel. Being stuck in a sea of mostly businessmen was not all that bad. Immediately in front of my face was the back of another man's head - this gentleman had just barely squeezed through the closing doors and was heaving as he caught his breath. I could smell his cologne and saw just a drop of sweat running down the back of his neck, so close I wanted to lick it off with my tongue. We were both reaching up to hold onto the pole above us, my arm slightly over his, and images of my last fuck with Melissa danced through my head. We had held onto the bedpost together in much the same way, me behind her with both of us standing. I could do the same with this young lad if I wanted.
My cock pressed painfully against my trousers, trying to lift up the fabric on the left leg all by itself. I felt a drop of precum leak out and soak into the black material of my trousers.
Unfortunately, in my position, I was unable to readjust myself to give my cock some much-needed release without drawing a lot of unwanted attention. My right arm was still hanging onto the overhead pole; my left one was holding onto my conference materials, which in turn were trapped between two people. However, I was also afraid that my cock, rising to the occasion, might eventually rise up between the legs of my out-of-breath friend ahead of me. What would I say then? I decided to risk it. Letting go of the overhead bar, my right hand slithered down between me and the man ahead of me - I did take the opportunity for an "innocent" brush over his round ass though - and I managed to readjust my cock to point upwards along my abdomen. What a relief!
Just then, the train hit a big bump on the tracks and lurched to the right as it rounded a sharp curve. Instinctively, my right hand sought out something to steady myself. My palm found a pole behind somebody's coat, although it wasn't the same pole I was holding before. This one was more like a handle, thicker and at a different angle. It must be a cane or umbrella, but I gripped it anyway through the coat in desperation and barely managed to stay upright as the train steadied itself again. Then, the pole in my hand throbbed.
I let go, startled as if the handle had suddenly turned into a snake and bitten me, which was the first thought that popped into my mind. Why would somebody be carrying around a snake underneath his coat? We hit another bump and my face turned red as my hand fell upon the no-longer-mysterious pole again.
I had a thick, pulsing and stiff cock in my hand.
You'd think, after all the cocks I'd held over the years as a GP, I'd have known immediately what I was holding onto. But normally, I don't get to hold many in the state as this one that I found myself loosely - and quite innocently, I told myself - gripping now.
Of course, if I was so innocent, why was I still holding it? Well perhaps my apparently sluggish brain was suffering blood loss as my own cock, which had been going down again from the distraction of almost falling, was now expanding rapidly again along my thigh.
Or perhaps I sensed this was the opportunity I was looking for while away from Melissa at this conference. It was the last day I'd be in London after all, and my meager attempts to have fun at the conference - flirting with my fellow attendees, playing with my cock next to some of them at the urinals, even answering the door naked when the bellboy came knocking - had got me nowhere. My cock sorely needed something more than just my right hand, and was by now leaking a steady stream of precum in the hopes of making something happen while away from Leeds.
As I pontificated on why I was continuing to cup this stranger's crotch, a cock belonging to a man I couldn't even see behind me, I felt his hand sliding around my waist and brushing against my own rock hard mound in my trousers. This hand was much more confident in seeking out what it wanted than my own tentative grasps. I felt this stranger's hand firmly squeeze my stiff rod, causing me to gasp. I glanced down, but in these cramped quarters, all I could see was a disembodied hand, sticking out from a black suit jacket. This strong man's nimble fingers adjusted my crotch, so that my cock was now pointed up and to the right, instantly relieving some of the pressure on it. Fingers traced the outline of the bulge underneath my trousers, and I glanced down to see the flash of a wedding ring. Then the fingers formed a fist, tugging my cock gently but consistently against my upper thigh. I closed my eyes and sighed gently, as I leaned back into this still-unseen stranger's chest, giving him a little more room to tug on my rock-hard cock. This stranger had a broad chest and shoulders and I just sank into his arms as he slowly wanked my aching rod through my trousers. Meanwhile, I could feel him rubbing his firm prick against my arse, which was at perfect level with and pressing further against his crotch. His heavy breath was on my neck as I rested against him and enjoyed his awkward handjob. I was so boned up, I felt myself really close to cumming right there on the Tube.
Just then, we pulled into a major station. The doors behind my married friend opened and I felt him pull away, as we both moved to the side to allow passengers access to the doors. A lot of people got off and on at this station; in the exchange, I finally had the chance to turn around and face my newfound friend, before we got too crowded to move again.
There he was, this handsome dark-haired young lad in the black suit, a little taller than me and built more like a rugby player, probably in his mid-twenties. He stood there against the doorframe and was staring down at his handiwork in my trousers. I guess I was sporting a major tent; of course, it is exceedingly difficult to conceal eight inches of ample cock, particularly when a damp patch has begun to form at the bell-end poking up against my belt. And with the suddenness of pulling away from him, I hardly had time to think about even trying to shield my midsection from full view. In any event, with all the masses passing between us, nobody else seemed to notice my dick at full attention.
I smiled back at him and he seemed somewhat embarrassed that I noticed him staring at me, turning away as the doors closed shut. I purposefully moved closer to him as everybody moved to assume a comfortable standing position and to grip a pole for balance. I stood off-center but facing him, both of us reaching up with our left hands to hold onto the pole overhead. He was pretending to be ignoring me now, studying the Underground map, but I was far too excited about what we were doing before to merely let him go on his merry way. I reached forward with my right hand and firmly cupped his package as if I was giving him a physical exam. He immediately turned to me with his eyes wide open in shock, as my hand sought out his cock through his trousers. Not surprisingly, it had gone flaccid while we were at the station, but I quickly found the fleshy tube in amongst the folds of his underwear. I winked at him and he looked around to see if anybody else was watching before grinning back at me again and he still had this stunned look on his face. Perhaps he never pegged me, a fellow married guy, as one to reciprocate or was shy now that I'd figured out his secret. It didn't matter to me as I slid my palm along his rapidly thickening shaft, stopping at the tip and pinching his bell-end. He closed his eyes and sucked in his breath as he enjoyed my hand massaging his own crotch.
I figured he was about average length, possibly a tad bit shorter than my own eight inches, but I could tell his cock would be thicker than mine. It still felt like one of the metal poles, a firm column encased in a fleshy, movable layer of skin. His balls were a hefty basket in his trousers, and I thought about how much spunk they would produce. I wanked him until I heard a soft moan escape his lips.
This continued for another stop or so, but with fewer and fewer people continuing on the train now, I reluctantly removed my hand from his crotch so as not to be too obvious to our fellow travelers. His blue eyes reopened and stared into mine, a look of both lust and uncertainty about what would happen next. He knew what he wanted, I decided, but like many married guys, I'd have to take the lead. I stared back at him while nonchalantly rubbing my own cock. He noticed and laughed a little, nodding his head and readjusting his own now-cramped package, mostly for comfort but looking up at me afterwards to see if I was watching. What a tease, I thought!
Then, an announcement came over the loudspeaker and he began gathering his coat and briefcase; it was clear that his stop had arrived. Bollocks! I was going to have to step this up if I didn't want to go back to the hotel with this massive hard-on. The doors opened and he was gone in a sea of passengers heading towards the way out. I quickly gathered up my coat and papers and rushed to follow him, catching up to him on the escalators. His arse in his tight black trousers was right there in my face, and I struggled to sound natural in my voice.
"Cheers, mate," I said.
Startled, he glanced around in a nervous way to see who might be listening and muttered an uncomfortable "Hi" in return. Definitely a married tease, I concluded, flattered by homosexual attention but skittish about being caught. I would have to go slow with this one.
"Normally, I don't like crowded trains, but today's ride was kind of fun, don't you think?
"Still facing forward, my married friend turned to face me and, although he was trying to mask a nervous grin, he was doing a terrible job. "Uh..."I grinned back at him. "All the... ah... movement down there kind of made me need to visit the gents, know what I mean?
"My new friend laughed and nodded.
"There's one just outside the station, actually. It's pretty convenient at being able to offer relief.
"The young guy smiled and nodded, but the look on his face said that he felt in over his head in this situation. Maybe this really was his first experimentation with another guy.
We reached the top of the escalator and to my dismay, he immediately took the way out to the right, although the toilets were clearly marked on the left. Oh well, I thought as I walked to the male toilet by myself, as I really did need to urinate after the long commute.
I was standing there at the urinals all alone, taking a piss, when to my complete amazement, the married man walked up to the urinal right next to mine and unzipped his fly. He smiled nervously and spoke for the first time, "Missed my connection." So here we were, two married guys standing side-by-side along a row of six urinals. He had chosen the urinal, but he was rigidly looking straight ahead at the tiles as if I wasn't there. It was clear that he wanted something, but again, I'd have to make the first move. I stepped back slightly as if I was finished and about to zip up. But I just held my exposed cock in my hand and worked the foreskin back and forth a few times, milking out the last few drops of piss. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my friend glance over and check me out. Meanwhile, my cock was responding to my manipulations. It lengthened to a semi-erection, still dangling downward but sticking out more. My bell-end expanded and darkened, and the foreskin stopped sliding over it completely on every downward stroke by my right hand.
He was still mesmerized by my bold actions, and was becoming more obvious in his voyeurism. I heard his steady stream of urine stop and I glanced over at his cock. He was still holding it downward as if he was urinating, but it looked fully erect. It stuck out an average length, about 6 inches from his fly, and the mushroom-shaped bell-end was engorged in an angry shade of red. The most remarkable thing was his thickness; his cock looked to be wider than my wrist. I looked up at his face and he was still gazing at my cock, which by now was sticking straight up in its full eight-inch glory. "Never seen another guy hard before?
"He quickly turned his gaze forward again and moved closer to the urinal to hide his erection from me. Fearing that he might leave suddenly, I turned to him and openly stroked my cock. "It's OK. But maybe we should move into one of the stalls in case someone comes in here.
"He quickly nodded and we zipped up and moved into the last stall.
"I've never done anything like this before," he said softly, sheepishly looking over at me and then turning back down towards my cock again. "You've got a big one, and I guess I was just curious, that's all. Seeing how I compare, you know."
"Do you want to see it again, then?"
He nodded, so I unzipped my trousers and let them fall to the floor. My cock stood proud, already with the foreskin retracted and leaking a drop of precum.
"From what I've seen, you've got a great size there yourself. You said you wanted to compare them?"
He shyly nodded, and pulled out his cock. Nerves had brought it back down again, but even in its semi-erect state, it was still thicker than mine. It must have been as wide as a beer bottle. I couldn't resist taking it in my hand, eliciting a gasp from its owner. It was so thick, my fingers only got about three-quarters of the way around.
"Uh... oh man... I mean, what are you doing?" he gasped, staring down at my hand on his rapidly hardening meat.
"Come on, you know you want to. It won't bite, I promise," I grinned at him as I gently began to stroke the entire length of his fat cock, trying in vain to close my fingers all the way around it.
"I, uh, I don't know what's going on. I don't even know you and... oh..." he trailed off as his eyes closed and his cock throbbed in my fist, betraying his desire. His hand gripped mine on his cock, and he tried to stop mine from moving. His blue eyes snapped open as he tried to regain control of the situation. "Mate, I... I'm not gay."
I noticed he didn't take my hand off his rock hard member, nor had his gaze remaining on my face. In fact, he was gawking at my own eight-inch glory, which was now drooling a steady stream of precum against his thigh. He seemed to be struggling to resolve something deep inside.
"Look. I'm not gay either. And I would never cheat on my wife with another woman. But guys have needs that, ahem, arise much more often than women realize. Know what I mean?"
I already knew I had him hooked when I felt his grip on my fist slacken, but I waited until he slowly nodded before continuing. "And sometimes, a man needs something more than just the relief his own right hand can give him. So the way I look at it, guys should be willing to help each out with these needs that only another man can fully understand, don't you think?"
"So... so you do this often with other guys?"
"Whenever my wife is not interested, yeah... which is quite often. Single, married, gay, straight... I think all guys enjoy getting their cocks played with."
By now, his hand had completely left mine, and he was leaning back against the stall wall. I took this as a green light to proceed and began stroking his ample meat. "So let's see," I said, as I angled his thick rod so that it lined up against mine. He looked down and actually grinned. "Looks like I got you beat on one count, mate."
I laughed and smiled back at him. He appeared to be loosening up, losing some of his apprehension and enjoying my hand on his cock. "Must make it difficult to give you a proper blowjob though, huh?"
He chuckled and made a muscle with his right arm. "Somehow, I make do I guess."
"Ah, well, I think we can remedy that."
Before he had time to think about how sordid this situation was - how he had ended up in a toilet stall with his cock hanging out the fly of his trousers - I dropped down to my knees and took his enormous bell-end into my warm, wet mouth.
"What... oh... what are you doing?!" he exclaimed, a little too loud for our surroundings.
I reached up and covered his mouth, silencing him just as I heard the outside door open. Somebody was joining us in the loo and I didn't think it would be wise to broadcast what was happening in the last stall. I whispered, "Shh," and returned to the task at hand.
I ran my tongue around the ridge of his plump purple cock-head and licked the piss slit, eliciting a soft moan from deep in his chest. Damn, his knob was huge! My jaw was wide open and I was trying to keep my teeth covered while also trying to get his whole dickhead in my mouth. It was not an easy task. Saliva was already starting to escape from the corners of my lips and run down his rigid shaft. I tried maintaining a tight circle with my lips, but it was impossible - he was just too wide.
Not that he minded. I looked up as I was sucking on his huge plum-like head, and saw him leaning back against the toilet roll dispenser. His hands had moved to my shoulder and hair, gently guiding me further down on his bloated pole as he stared up at the ceiling. I guess it had been awhile since he'd gotten a blowjob, as he was already pressuring me to take more of him down my throat.
I closed my eyes and gave it my best shot, sliding my mouth down as far as I could go on his shaft. I couldn't move my tongue, as his massive prick was fully occupying my entire mouth cavity. My nose was in his bush, and I smelled a heady mixture of soap and his natural musk that turned me on immensely. The mushroom tip of his cock-head was lodged against my tonsils and I choked a little. My eyes opened and to my dismay, I could still see another two inches or so remaining outside the grasp of my lips. He relented and released his grip on my head. I moved back up to focus on the bell-end, which had gotten darker and even more bulbous, if that was at all possible. My hand wrapped (mostly) around his shaft, and I stroked his cock as I sucked on the tip. I developed a steady rhythm, working his foreskin and my lips alternately over the head of his dick. From the sounds of his moans and the tightness of his hands on my head, I could tell he was getting close.
But I wanted to make sure I got mine too.
I've been in these situations before. After teaching many a straight guy the joys of male intimacy, even servicing him all the way to orgasm, his post-coital second thoughts would spook him into leaving before I even got undressed. I was determined to make sure I didn't get burned again.
I pulled up off his cock, and got back up on my feet. He immediately opened his eyes and gave me a quizzical look. "You can't stop now, mate. I... I wanted to come down your throat. I need it. Please."
I almost dropped back down on my knees again. Hearing him beg for it sent an electric pulse through my already swollen cock.
"It's my turn, don't you think?" I said, pointing down at my rigid member, which was poking out from my open trousers straining for some attention.
"You...?" He was still catching his breath. "You want me to suck you off?"
"Actually, mate, if you're up for it... I'd really like to fuck you," I replied.
He was so startled at such a proposition that I was afraid I'd pushed too far too fast. "Look, I told you I'm not gay."
"Yeah, well, it's just that you've got a really nice arse, and as soon as I saw it on the escalator, I knew I wanted to fuck it."
He wasn't packing up his cock and running for the door; in fact, I swear I saw his cock pulsate at the thought of being fucked. He looked both defensive and unsure again, like he'd always thought about it but was afraid to admit it. Straight men can be so difficult. Sometimes I wish straight guys could simply enjoy pleasure with another man without hang-ups.
"Have you never stuck anything up your arse before?" He shook his head no, still looking both intrigued and scared. "Let me show you what you've been missing. I promise to take it nice and slow.
"He thought about it for what seemed like an eternity and then said, "I can't mate. I'm seriously straight."
"That's what all the guys who wank me on the train say," I muttered as I decided to settle for second prize. "Turn around then, and let me rub one off on your backside," I said to my fellow married man. His skeptical look said that he was afraid I might rape him. But I added, "I went down on you - it's the least you could do for me.
"He reluctantly agreed and we switched places in the cramped stall. He dropped his trousers to around his knees and bent over facing the toilet, then looked back to see what I would do.
His arse was pale white and almost hairless, just like his chest and arms. It was absolutely beautiful. I so wanted to fuck his cute bum, but I respected his wishes and resigned myself to some frottage-induced release. But I like it slick, so I felt I definitely needed to prepare his buttcrack first with the only lube we had available, my saliva. (Plus, I confess: I really enjoy the smells and tastes of a male arse!)
I lowered myself back down to my knees and spread his cheeks wide open. His pink hole winked back at me, twitching a little as it felt my breath on it. I stuck out my tongue and ran it around the rim. His backside tensed up and he positively shivered at the touch of my tongue. I took the opportunity to grasp his perfect butt in my hands and pull his tiny sphincter back onto my mouth. His hole was clenched tight, so I just pushed my tongue against it and lightly chewed on it to loosen it up. I heard him moan as new sensations ripped up his spine directly to his brain.
Just then, an involuntary spasm caused his ass to open up and my forceful tongue plunged inside. Completely forgetting where he was, he let out a loud groan and leaned more forward, bracing himself with his arms on the toilet seat. My tongue ran around the inside of his arse, savoring the exquisite, slightly bitter flavor of his rectum. I gripped his thighs and dove into his asshole with my tongue.
While I was rimming his arse, it didn't escape my attention that he was supporting his weight on one arm now instead of two. He had begun beating off his still-rigid cock with his free hand, just thinking about me fucking him.
I knew it, I thought. What a tease!
By now, his buttcrack was sufficiently moist enough for me to slide my cock comfortably between his cheeks, so I stood and stepped up right behind him. He was too busy wanking to pay any attention. I pushed his white dress shirt up to expose his smooth backside. I guided my cock to his wet, hairless crevice and began rubbing the length of my cock in between the firm globes of his arse. I held his cheeks together and rocked my hips back and forth, as he enjoyed his own hand on his prick. On every thrust, I could see my dick pop out from his crack, the foreskin pulling back to reveal my fiery red bell-end. Pulling back, my knob disappeared into my foreskin, and then my whole cock sank down into those perfectly round cheeks. I could feel my cock leaking a tremendous amount of lube on every hump, and I spit down at his upturned ass a few times to keep his crack moist. Meanwhile, my hands pressing inward on his hips kept his channel tight. My thrusts grew a little more frantic as I closed my eyes and imagined fucking this married stranger. The friction on my knob was incredible, and I felt myself slowing building towards an incredible orgasm. I pumped my cock back and forth between his cheeks, and sweat poured down his back and my chest. I leaned forward to grab onto his shoulders for more support and leverage against his hot arse.
When I bent forward against his back, I must have inadvertently shifted the angle at which my cock was sliding up his backside. My cockhead was now banging into his balls and the topside of my shaft was scraping along the hairy flesh between his thighs. These different sensations running directly from my cock to my brain were driving me crazy with lust.
As I grinded myself against him in ever-quickening thrusts, I reached underneath him and grabbed him by the collarbone. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest as I hugged him closer to me, pressed my head into his back and rocked my hips against him. Our dress shirts were soaked and stuck to our skins, and his right arm was frantically pumping away at his stiff rod.
On every thrust, my plump bell-end brushed against his hole, before sliding further downward and hitting his hefty sack. I began to hear tiny squeals escaping his throat as I felt his cheeks tensing and releasing with this constant massaging of his anus. He really was getting into this and I felt him unconsciously start to grind his arse back against me. Before I could properly adjust my rhythm to take into account this new development, however, he backed up right as I was pushing forward. Without warning, my knob hit his hole at just the right spot and I slipped a few inches deep inside his tight ass.
He tensed up immediately and I felt him shutter under me. "Unghh...!" he cried through gritted teeth, as I held still, not sure what to do next. My prick throbbed uncontrollably though, as the involuntary spasms of his sphincter squeezed my shaft repeatedly. I looked down and saw about 5 inches of my cock leading up to his twitching hole.
Just as my conscience was demanding I pull out, I felt his fingers move from his cock to underneath his balls and finally to his now well-stretched hole and my bloated shaft sticking out of it. I took the opportunity to reach down and take his cock in my own hand. If possible, it was even stiffer and fatter than before, pulsing and leaking precum all over my fingers. He turned and looked at me, a mixture of both fear and longing in his eyes. His eyes and cock told me what he needed.
I began stroking him slowly and then I pushed gently forward, watching another inch of my dick get swallowed by his arse. His eyes closed shut and he hung his head down as he grunted some more from the new sensations coursing through his body. His fingers traced the length of my cock that was still outside his body, as if trying to gauge how much more was left to go.
I rocked myself in and out a little to test the waters some more. His hand moved back to his thick prick and brushed my fingers aside, as he needed to wank himself a little more rapidly than apparently I was doing. I gripped his hips in my hands and raised myself to an upright position behind him. I continued to shallow fuck him while he wanked himself rapidly below me.
My thrusts began to speed up as I climbed towards my own orgasm. I was losing control, and on one thrust, I plowed all eight inches up his tight hole at once. "Aww... fuck... ahhhh!" moaned my married stranger, as he went over the edge. His arm became a blur and his anus clamped down on my shaft as he spewed his load all over the toilet ahead of him.
The pressure of his tight sphincter milking my foreskin over my bell-end buried up his ass drove me wild. I kept fucking him hard from behind as he came down off his orgasm. I felt my balls slap into his, and that pushed me to the point of no return. My head tilted back and I gave a few more desperate thrusts, as my cock expanded even more up his still-spasming ass. And then I erupted, shooting my spunk deep inside his warm rectum. I could hear the squelching of my cock churning my cum around as I sank my cock one last time all the way up his bum.
We caught our breath and my cock softened to where it slipped out of his arse on its own with a soft slurp. A frothy mix of my semen and his ass juices dripped off the tip of my cock onto the floor. Now that it was over, he seemed like he was avoiding eye contact with me, a little freaked out about so obviously enjoying what we had done. We cleaned up with some toilet roll and hitched up our trousers, then he cracked open the stall door and peered cautiously outside. Assuring himself that no one was at urinals, he scurried quickly out of the stall to finish cleaning up. I waited a moment before following his lead.
He was rigorously washing his hands, which were absolutely covered with his cum. As he dried them, I noticed he was no longer wearing his wedding ring, and fearing that it fell down the sink drain, I broke the silence.
"Um, mate, I don't want to alarm you, but your ring is missing."
"What ring?" he replied, looking up at me with a suspicious look in his eyes. I thought he was afraid to reveal any further information about himself, given that I knew about his secret penchant for hooking up with fellow commuters on the Tube. "Don't worry, I'm not trying to blackmail you or anything," I said, with a smile. "I just don't want you to get in trouble with the missus. My wife would kill me if I lost our wedding ring."
"Look, mate," he said defensively, turning away again. "Just because I'm not married doesn't mean I'm gay. I'm straight, like I told you. This was... well, it was... just a bit of fun, I guess. But I'm not gay."
I was really confused now. "So what was that about on the train then? You always wank off strangers in the Tube?"
He turned towards me again and looked right at me. "You were the one that came on to me, OK, mate? You were the one standing there by the door showing off your hard-on, not me. You grabbed my cock on the Tube, remember? I was just minding my own business. I don't know why I followed you in here... I guess because I haven't gotten any since my girlfriend dumped me two months ago... and then you blatantly hit on me and I just went with it. Like you said, nothing wrong with two guys helping each other out, right? So, I've got a train to catch now. Cheers, mate."
And with that, he left. I stood there, confused as hell. Was he such a closet case that he completely blocked out how he groped me too on the Underground?
Just then, a toilet flushed behind me. Shit. Someone else was in one of the other stalls. We had been so into it, we didn't even realize there was another guy using the loo. I wanted to get out of there before I had to confront this stranger and deal with his dirty looks from having to listen to two men shagging in the gents.
But I wasn't quick enough to get to the door, so I ducked in another stall. Through the crack in the door, I saw a man in a black suit step up to the sinks. Hurry up and get out of here so I can leave, I thought to myself.
The businessman washed and dried his hands and walked past my stall towards the door. Just when I thought I was in the clear, I heard him speak.
"I enjoyed the show. Too bad I got here late," he said.
I opened the stall door just in time to see the man in the black suit open the door and step outside. A wedding ring flashed on his left hand.
Let me know if you liked the story: daveunc2000@yahoo.com