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Train Station Gays

I remember the sound of luggage rolling across concrete as he turned. The ripple he made in time frozen on my brain, the image of his sway. I stole that parting glance and tasted the air through which he had passed, brushing against me a sweet memory. He said something, or hinted at something perhaps but only to my eyes. It was understood, the secret that can be bought between men. In the past it went unnoticed by most, but things are a bit different now. A moment cannot be held at leisure. It cannot be savored that way. The rings on his finger said leave it, but the glint in his eye begged and beckoned.

People all around grabbed their belongings and scattered in all. Brip, brap, sputter. Wheels on tile. Click, clack, click, dress shoes and stiletto hills cut through the din with a rhythm ignored. I followed at a short distance and saw that she was laughing at something – that same girl he’d sat next to on the train. Part of me wondered if she was trying too hard. It wasn’t my business, but I kept wondering. A friend had been generous enough to offer me his spare bedroom for my little weekend holiday in Chocolate City. There had always been something about the air in Washington that allowed the little head to take control of all higher functions. It was evident in the eyes of every man. Symbolic islands drifting together pulled by the gravity of pulsing cocks. I thought I had drawn a line that I wouldn’t cross, but the older I get the harder it becomes to see. I told myself as a consolation, he was ugly. But in truth, I wanted the sensation of his hips pressed against my thighs.

I was hungry. The smell of burgers with bacon, double meat and trans fats announced as neon beacons asking – clog thy Willie? I think not! Instant Chinese wasn’t much better, but it wasn’t as bad as the burger and fries. The food court on the second floor proved interesting. I found a spot advantageous to people watching with all the gender bias I could put into the art. The “obvious” twenty something’s were wearing their jeans teasingly snug in the crotch and hips, cut low around the waist – the next reincarnation of fashion. I shot the obligatory glance at a fine woman here and there just to throw a little confusion to anyone who caught me staring. Old habit. Still single and horny at 42, perhaps I could have done things a bit differently. I wondered if I’d be telling myself that ten years from that moment. It didn’t matter. Nature was calling.

I sipped more tea and kept an eye peeled on the bathroom to see who was going in, how long they stayed, and if instinct cast its veil. The traffic around the food court was pretty heavy and the layout of the restroom was all wrong. The lower level proved to be buzz worthy of what I was looking for. Finishing off the last of my snack, I headed toward the down escalator. There was a bookstore, coffee stand and a luggage shop that gave a partial view of who went in and out of the men’s room. Not a lot of traffic between arrivals and departures, and the entryway provided plenty warning. Turning into the bookstore I caught glance of a familiar profile out the corner of my eye. Pretending not to notice that he had noticed, I turned my back and picked up an issue of Ethnic Cuisine. His wife or so I thought, was saying something about the time. Something about a delay and souvenirs. Business. Kids. Crowded. Love. Concert. Wonderful friend. A lot of cooing. She was definitely trying too hard! I stopped listening. Shortly after they went to the seating area where he left her engrossed in the pages of a book and headed toward the toilet. After about a minute or so I figured he was involved in some serious number two or waiting. “Can I help you find anything?” His wife was an attractive woman, perhaps eight or nine years his junior. Why was I trying to figure that out?

“Sir?” I hadn’t noticed the sales clerk speaking to me. She reminded me of Carol Burnett. I smiled graciously and put back the magazine.

“No thank you. I was just browsing.” I left the store and headed toward the bathroom. Rounding the corner I slowed my pace intentionally as though trying to sneak up on a cat, kept my steps soft and pushed the door. He was standing at the urinal with two empty spaces to his right. No dividers. Perfect. I slid my bag over by the sink next to his and he turned to see who had walked in. I gave a polite nod and stepped over. With practice you can check out a guys cock without him even knowing. The guy next to me still had work to do in that department. When I saw his head angling for my prick, I turned to look him in the eye and gave a half smile. Redness shot into his face. He swallowed, shifted then fumbled for his zipper. “So where are you headed” I asked, which threw him a bit and he just sort of stood there holding his dick not knowing whether to put it away or to play out the scene.

“Um. Actually a business trip” New York or some place East. I didn’t really care what his answer had been. I just wanted to get my rise and get out.

“Business trip. With your wife?”

“She’s not my wife” he started but then trailed off. I looked down at his cock and thrust my chin forward as if to point out that he wore a wedding band. Yes, he was married but the lady hanging on his arm was not the Misses.

“No need to explain” I said and started to piss. On queue my dick started to swell and slow the flow to a trickle. I let out a breath of relief that was a little unnecessary, I could see that his cock had started doing a little rising of its own. I realized I was already crossing the imaginary line I’d drawn earlier. What excuse had I made to dismiss him? He slyly started stroking his cock and turned without shame to stare at me and did something I hadn’t expected, he reached over, grabbed my throbbing meat and pulled me to him. The precum oozed out and lubed the head of my fully erect prick. I smirked at the shine his drip gave. His hand found the back of my neck and before I could stop him our mouths came together. I didn’t really want to stop and was turned on by my flow of nerves. I could smell sex, cum, piss, pine, chlorine, sharp and penetrating. The pressure between my thighs, his shaft pressed against mine, his clear silky seed glistened in my pubes. I thought I heard someone. I had to stop before I turned a deaf ear to the door. I started to pull away. “Wait” he begged. His voice was a tremble. A look of hunger and desperation flooded his face. He jerked off furiously and grabbed me harder than I liked as though trying to pull my cock from where it stood. I reached for and fastened the button of my pants. Tried to straighten my shirt thinking about the time I’d gotten caught. He saw what I was doing and quickly dropped to his knees before I could take the next step. “I’m Jason” he whispered.

In my head I was already out the door. I’d seen what I came to see, got my sexual buzz on, and now it was no longer safe. “I could get arrested” was drowned out by the sound of my heart racing in my ear and then the sweetest thing I’d felt, the inside of a warm mouth. I froze and he gripped the back of my hips forcing the thrust that came too willingly. He gagged a little, and I felt myself slide in and curve down the back of his throat and all memories of consequence seeped down the drain. Looking down I saw his cock point straight up pressed against his belly. I wasn’t certain if that was its natural angle or simply the fact that he was resting his butt on the heels of his feet. There was a cool feeling in one of my hands as my leg had started to shake uncontrollably. The pleasure I felt at losing my body to that man had taken over. I grabbed a pipe to shift my weight. The moisture that had collected there felt cool to the touch. The timing of my thrust had increased to some rhythm with origins in some primitive life. Humping his mouth to bring on the nut, I hoped he’d swallow. He looked as though he’d do anything to please me. “Yeah. You like sucking a strangers cock don’t you Jason?” I goaded him and he responded that he’d take all I had to give. “You don’t get much dick from your girl” I laughed. He responded by cupping my balls in his hands, pulled them so that they hung outside my fly and started to bath me with his tongue. “You deserve some cock in your life don’t you boy! You need some cock Jason. Is that what you want?” He looked at me and begged.

“Can you fuck me, please. I just need to get fucked is all.” I smiled and slapped my dick across his face and the sound echoed in the silence of solid walls. I dragged and pushed the head against his closed eye leaving a moist trail. Brip. Then bending down to reach behind him I slid my hand that was wet from the pipes down the back of his pants. The crack of his ass served as the map to what I might find. My index finger and its closest friend found joy in the thickening fur the closer I edged them to the final stop. Brap. He arched, head bent down to the floor, his hands anchored my feet and my finger slid in. “Yes” was what I heard and then a final click, someone was coming. I could feel his ass grip my finger three quick times in secession before I removed it from his puckered hole. He gasped and realized the sound of wheels on tile and shot up from the floor grazing the side of my face. Ouch. We both snapped to attention facing the urinal as though a sergeant had yelled ATTENTION! My heart was pounding, his shirt half un-tucked, and my balls not cooperating got nicked by my zipper. Two throbbing cocks hovering over urinals refusing to surrender. The proverbial white flag was the cum rag offered through the intrusion of a stranger.

The guy that came checked himself in the mirror and headed toward the stalls. Jason was slowly stroking his cock to the rhythm of the other mans steps that neither of us had turned to see. His foot falls stopped behind us and changed direction where he parked right next to me, and whipped out a semi hard uncut dark brown Asian cock. It was obvious what was going on but he seemed stiff and too afraid to look. There was a recognizable gasp from my left and I saw Jason wasting his seed in the urinal. One, two, three, too many bullets to count. Wads onto the porcelain. Drip drop. It raced down like stallions at a six lane track in distinct trails. His body involuntarily slumped forward, back, then forward again. The guy next to me pretended not to notice. Jason quickly became the outward heterosexual on a business trip with his mistress after his spasm. Tucked his shirt, started to say something but didn’t and was gone before his jizz had even settled. After a moment I turned to the guy standing next to me. I looked down at his cock and thrust my chin forward pointing out that he wore a wedding band. I returned his knowing smirk, zipped up, grabbed my bag and left him in the echoes of my footsteps. Outside in the fresh air, I lit a cigarette and felt the stickiness of Jason on my balls. My friends Toyota rounded the corner shortly after I finished my stag and he greeted him with a warm familiar smile. “You haven’t been waiting too long I hope.”

“Nah. The train just got here only a few minutes ago.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m starved” I told him. “Let’s go to that little place you like. What was the name of it?”

“Cafe Asia.”

“That’s it. For some reason I’m craving Pan Asian.”

I always did have a big appetite.

January 2018
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