A Train Journey
My first encounter...in a train compartment.
It was almost exactly a year since my 'Changing Room' incident that was revealed in my previous story. I was a year older, but was I any wiser?
I'd been working away from home for the whole of my summer holidays and it was time to return there, and then within days back to school.
I was 16 and had been 'sort of apprenticed' to a foreman in charge of refurbishing shops for the last 6 weeks. The job wasn't really the type most schoolboys got in their holidays, some never bothered to work and became beachbums instead, others went at it half-heartedly doing chores around the house just to earn a bit of pocket-money to tied them over, but I looked upon it as a serious way of earning some 'real' money and learning some new skills. (Little did I know the range of new skills I'd return to school with).
The job meant I was staying away from home. You could do that back in 1970, and at sixteen, no one really batted an eyelid since most people left school then and went out to work anyway.
The job had finished in the middle of the week due to the August bank holiday in England and it was now a seventy mile train journey home along the south coast.
Even in the 70s some train carriages were well beyond their sell by date, and there were still quite a few old fashioned carriages in Southern Railway's run down and grubby service. These have now long since vanished, but then you had a door on each side of the compartment that allowed access in from either platform (depending which way the train was pointing) and two banquette bench seats either side of the doors that stretched from one side window to the other and could seat about eight passengers on each.
It was possible to travel the whole journey sitting in your own little compartment all by yourself. On other occasions you could be in this type of carriage with numerous other passengers who you were stuck with until either you got off or they did. The design meant there was no corridor which would have allowed you to walk along the train and escape. You're literally 'trapped' in your compartment until you could get off...and with no toilet access of course, you had to plan your trip carefully.
I climbed in, threw my haversack and small case onto the luggage racks above the seating and settled down into the far window seat. The whistle sounded, a few more doors slammed and slowly the train pulled out of the station. It was warm and sunny and almost the end of summer, just September to go.
I was by myself in the compartment at least until the next stop some fifteen minutes away.
Since my early teens I had always been interested in boy's and men's briefs and male underwear in general; the different styles, colours, materials and even the pictures on the packaging could get my teen cock tingling in my Y-Fronts. I loved shopping for briefs, handling the packs, seeing the dummies modelling the latest styles, even trying them on in shops before buying! Many times I'd leave a shop having to disguise an erection after an enjoyable few minutes playing around in the underwear aisle!
Just a few minutes out of the station, the train was passing numerous thin, long back gardens that ran right up to the side of the tracks on both sides of the train and I was getting a good eyeful of a whole range of briefs, and panties flapping from washing lines as we rumbled by. It intrigued me to know what other people wore under their outdoor clothes.
There...I assumed were three pairs of an 11 or 12 year old boy's hipster briefs, they were a bright cherry red, sky blue and bottle green and looked to be nylon. Next on the washing line, would be his older sister's gym knickers, dark navy and thick cotton, and then a similar sized pair in cream. Then it was their mum's...it looked like she preferred quite skimpy bikini briefs, lilac, pastel shades of blue and pink, then a solid black and several pairs of white, some edged in lace, others just plain cotton or could it be nylon? Then finally their dad's, classic Jockey Y-Fronts, in plain white with a thin waistband, and several coloured Y-Fronts with the white piping around the leg openings and the inverted "Y" which made them so very distinctive and noticeable at such a distance.
In the late 1960s and early 1970s, most men wore Jockey Y-Fronts or the same style from other shops in the high street such as Marks and Spencer, C&A or Littlewoods. Even Woolworth's sold their own Y-Fronts under the Winfield brand label. Boxers were around, but tended to be loose fitting and made from a cotton poplin type material, just like shirts. And then there were still the old timers who wore long-johns, but at the end of summer, these were difficult to find on washing lines.
The next couple of gardens had just towels and sheets, the odd pair of pyjamas, a pair of curtains, but very quickly followed by another garden whose washing line was displaying an array of undies, both male and female. Wednesday must be "Undies Day" I thought. Lines and lines of men's briefs, mainly Y-Fronts, the occasional hipster, usually of nylon. I even saw a Wolsey Adam brief and a couple of 'Jockey Skants', the skimpiest of nylon bikinis that would hardly contain a man's tackle, even when not aroused.
My mind would wander as to what size the cocks and balls were that filled these underwear items pegged there as the train went passed. I tried to put an age on the person that wore them, and what they had underneath. was it 'Cut / uncut', 'fat', 'skinny', 'knobbly', '4" erect or 7" soft', or even a 'BBC' ?
The style, colour and waist size was a bit of a give-away. It was usual for older men, mid thirties onwards to be the classic, white Jockey Y-Front wearer with a waist size of say 36" to 38".
Where as a mid twenties man would more than likely be wearing those bright red or blue Jockey sports Briefs with the white contrast piping and having a waist measurement of around 32" to 34".
The late teens guy would be the owner of a Jockey Sports Slip, (the coloured cotton hipster with the contrast white leg openings and stitching, but no fly) and a waist of maybe 30" to 32".
Whilst the mid aged teenager, that's me, with a waist of about 26" to 30" could have a foot in either camp. The ones whose mum would buy their underwear for them and more than likely they ended up with boring white Jockey Y-fronts (just like mine did) or, if they were lucky, they could buy their own, or even had a mother who asked "what would you like me to buy you?"
Youngsters and p*****ns tended to have brightly coloured hipsters with a geometric pattern or sometimes a cartoon character, just like today nearly fifty years on, it's still the same, but now it's Star Wars or Minions whereas in 1970 it was still Disney or maybe a scary Incredible Hulk image!
I was getting myself excited thinking of the many types of pricks that would bulge the material of the various briefs that were displayed on the washing lines.
I moved my hand to my crotch and could already feel my swelling teen cock in my nylon football shorts. I rubbed the outside of the smooth material with the palm of my hand making firstly circular motions over my dick, but as he grew to his full extent I now moved the palm of my hand up and down the full length of my erect teen prick. Pushing down harder, as I moved my hand up and down my shaft, just made me even more excited and desperate to wank him off there and then in the train's compartment. I'd taken a real eyeful of briefs and was feeling quite horny. I checked my watch and knew it wouldn't be long before the next station, so instead I slipped my hand up inside the short's right leg and inside the nylon net inner brief.
Ah! That was great, I opened my hand fully and covered as much of my cock and ball sac as I could with the inside of my right palm and fingers, rolling my hand in a slight circular motion, keeping him fully erect and enjoying every second of it. It was very warm down there. I licked my lips lasciviously, moving the tip of my tongue slowly around both lips as if I was licking around the cunt lips of a girl I'd met at a party. I'd never had the chance yet, but at least I wanted to imagine what it would be like.
I pulled my hand out from under my shorts but with a couple of fingertips I continued to trace the full outline of my burgeoning member as it pointed to the left, pressing it occasionally and yes, at last a drip of pre-cum oozed from my Jap's eye, through the mesh inner brief and through the navy blue nylon of the football shorts, depositing itself on the outside. I touched it with my fingertip, collecting the gem and brought it up to my eager lips, my tongue coming out to snare the catch and slip back inside with it. Mmm! Tasty.
The train started to slow as it approached the first stop. I was hot and slightly flushed, it could be the August heat, but more than likely my activities, cut short by the oncoming station.
The train lurched to a standstill, brakes squealing, doors slamming. The chatter of people close-by on the opposite platform drifted in the window I had opened. General hubbub followed, announcements, people running, the dispatching whistle and I'd managed yet again to get away with no one else in my compartment, or so I thought. As the train very slowly started to move a gentleman grabbed at and opened the door handle and climbed into the carriage, slamming it behind him and collapsing somewhat in a heap on the opposite cushioned bench seat. Out of breath, he gathered his composure before announcing
"Phew! That was a close thing!"
I looked across at him, I'd say he'd be in his late thirties maybe even early forties, and already my parallel thoughts were thinking of what he was wearing underneath the khaki shorts he had on. I settled upon "Classic Jockey Y-Fronts, white, size 36" to 38" waist."
He seemed to fit the profile perfectly.
He'd nicely tanned legs that wore hiking socks and a pair of walking type boots. His short sleeved shirt had wet sweat patches in each armpit where his exertions in catching the train had made him perspire somewhat.
As I'd been working indoors all summer, and had on worker's all-in-one overalls, my legs were pasty white compared to his, my arms were not quite as bad as during lunchtime we all managed to sit outside, but obviously couldn't take our overalls off to get some rays on our legs!
I looked out of the window and down at the tracks as we moved on through East Sussex. As I repositioned my gaze to near distance and focussed at the glass window instead, I could see him looking at me in the reflection. I turned away from the window, looked him straight in the eye for a second and then returned to look at passing washing lines with their inevitable underwear gems dangling from them.
Y-Front, T-shirt, Vest, Y-Front,
Hipster, Panty, Panty, Bra, Socks,
Y-front, Towel, Hipster, Bra,
Knickers, Panty, Bikini Brief...
I could feel my cock growing again held in by the confines of the net security brief that shorts usually had. It had come up against the elastic of the inner brief's leg opening and as this was just barely the thickness of a rubber band, my erect cock forced itself passed the elastic and to freedom in the leg of my football shorts. The sudden feeling of freedom gave it even more impetus to grow thicker and longer with more blood flooding into the growing phallus each second. It had gained its full teen size and was sitting inside the left leg of my shorts pointing towards the other passenger. I'm sure he couldn't see it from the way I was sitting, but I had a sudden urge to move my position and let him see it if he so wanted. I opened my legs wider and was sure that he couldn't help but see the tip of my unhooded knob up the left leg of my shorts. I licked my lips again as the undies flew by on washing lines outside the window. I focussed at near distance once more and saw in the reflection he was looking directly at my shorts, and in particular the left leg, and I could easily make-out that he'd started slowly caressing the crotch of his own shorts. I never once looked at him but was looking at his reflection all the time but pretended it was the countryside I was viewing the other side of the glass.
I moved my left hand down to my knee and made out I was itching it, and then slowly moved it back along the top of my bare thigh and rested it there for a few seconds before sliding the palm of my hand nearer to the opening of my short's leg. I stopped with my thumb on the hem of the shorts, and fingers bent slightly, resting half way between knee and crotch. I focussed on the window again and unbelievably he was slowly unzipping his shorts and allowing his right hand to enter into the warm, darkness beneath.
Maybe the sound of the travelling train muffled my sudden intake of breath, but I just couldn't believe that someone would do that in a railway compartment with another person in view just opposite. As I continued to watch his reflection, I was very aware that my cock had deposited another drop of pre-cum on my leg, I could feel the drip very, very slowly moving down the inside of my thigh. I wanted to pick it up like before, but thought better of it, instead I slowly moved my thumb under the leg hem of the shorts and eased it towards the head of my erect cock which was barely an inch away now. I could almost touch it with the tip of my thumb if I tried harder.
In the reflection I was amazed to see that the passenger opposite had now eased his mature penis from the confines of his underwear and it was poking out of his shorts through the unzipped fly. He put his thumb and a couple of fingers just behind his foreskin and started to slowly wank his bell-end, the skin quietly moving up to cover it and then slowly down again to show the mature purplish knob. His thighs relaxed and fell open slightly almost mimicking the position I was in. He continued and as his cock became more erect he was able to grasp it with more fingers, now four fingers coursed up and down his phallus, uncapping, then capping the bell-end.
Dare I look at him straight in the eye?
I continued the reflected look, and saw he was enjoying it every bit as much as I was, watching him wanking himself in front of me. With his left hand he deftly unbuckled his belt and undid the waist button of his shorts and in one swift movement he stood up and allowed the shorts to fall to the train floor. I could see I was right, there he was wearing just what I thought, White Jockey Y-Fronts, possibly a size 36" I guessed as I couldn't see the label inside the waistband. I turned now and viewed the unreflected him, looking straight at his dark brown eyes and a sort of smile that conveyed what I was thinking. He shuffled closer to me across the distance between the seats and presented his engorged bell-end just centimetres from my face, poking through the briefs fly opening. I don't know why but I just opened my mouth, it just seemed the natural thing to do at that moment and seeing his opportunity, he moved forward and his purple headed cock head slipped so easily into my warm, inviting mouth. I'd never tasted cock before, but wow! What an experience for me at sixteen to have a mature man's prick in my mouth? I was certainly coming of age on the train home.
He grasped my head and pulled me gently towards him and then slowly pushing me away again, he repeated the action again and again, towards him, away from him, towards him, away from him, so basically I was wanking him with my mouth and lips. Instinctively I reached up with my hands, slipped them under the leg openings of the Y-Fronts and gently placed each one on a hairy, firm buttock of his and as he pulled my head more towards him with his cock going deeper into my mouth it seemed so natural to assist the rhythm by pulling his butt towards me at the same time. I could barely take all of his mature cock in my still adolescent mouth. It was a struggle and several times I gagged at the depth it was going into my moist hole. His knob was grazing across the opening at the back of it, making breathing hard and I had to pull back occasionally for air as my nostrils were being forced into thick pubic hair and layers of skin above his pubic bone. I allowed him to pull his cock fully out and it bounced up and down, deflecting a few centimetres in each direction. He pulled his large member back through the Y-Fronts opening and allowed the briefs to drop down to his ankles.
I sucked in cool reviving air, trying to calm my racing heart.
This was hard work for a total novice like me, but as he moved closer to me again, I prevented entry by closing my lips firmly onto my extended tongue, and instead I used my moist tongue to travel up and down the length of his member starting at his ball sac, enticingly licking around his balls and the hair that nestled there, flicking them with my tongue and making them sway slightly in their warm sagging sac. He spread his legs more and allowed me to slip a finger of my right hand towards his anus. It was hot and sweaty around there with twisted arse hair and glistening moisture. I ran my finger tip around the circumference of his sphincter. I could feel it twitching in response to my action, beckoning me to enter into that most secret of places. My tongue was now at his glans, licking around the groove and over his very sensitive knob which was oozing several drops of PC from its slit. I put just his bell-end into my mouth once more and sucked out the PC from his cock, clear, warm, sweet nectar. At the same time I pushed the tip of my index finger into his anus, and he instantly responded with a gasp of pleasure.
I felt very much out of my depth now. What I was doing was totally alien to me and I didn't want to make a hash of it and appear to him that I was a total novice (which I was). I can't recall even put my fingertip in to my own arse, let alone a total stranger's, so without going any deeper and playing with my finger tip in his, I slowly withdraw it. Again another gasp, I suppose more of a sigh, at what wasn't going to happen, came from the man in front of me.
I gestured towards the long banquette seat behind him, with a nod of my head. He shuffled back with briefs and shorts around his ankles and sat back down on the seat.
As I stood up to approach him I could see my fully erect adolescent cock pushing its bell end out from my short's left trouser leg. The man stretched out his right hand to grasp it, but knowing I would barely last a few seconds had he started to wank or even suck me, I shook my head reluctantly and instead knelt down on the carriage floor in front of him.
I grasped his cock with my right hand and started to masturbate him. It was so much thicker and had so many large veins giving it a ribbed look and feel. Mine in comparison at 16, was naturally smaller and thinner and here's me thinking I was quite well hung. (I hope mine's that big when I'm his age, I thought). Unlike me, there was plenty of space remaining on his big mature prick to put my left hand as well, and I proceeded to give him a two handed wank. My teenage hands totally gripping and covering this man's mature cock and riding up and down together the full length of it. Capping and then uncapping his uncut dick-head. He relaxed more and allowed his knees to open further, maybe he wanted my fingertip back in his cherry, but I continued rubbing the gorgeous member in front of me, slowly picking up the pace as I was now worried I might not get him to orgasm before the next station.
Surely I couldn't leave him in such a state of sexual excitement? I was also very aroused, a combination of the situation, the fact that I was doing something so unexpected at my age to a much older man had my bell-end dripping PC as well. I pulled the left leg of my football shorts right up to my groin and allowed my straining cock and balls the freedom they wanted and they were now full exposed bobbling up and down as I replaced my hand and continued to wank the man in front of me.
I could sense he was getting close to ejaculating, his breathing was faster and deeper and I could see his ball sac tightening and darkening in readiness of his coming orgasm. Almost on cue as the train started to brake, his hips shook and jerked as a very long stream of spunk shot straight up and then down again all over my right hand, left wrist, his pubes and belly button. Another one followed, and yet another with less spunk forcing their way from his slit. He rested his head back on the seat cushion, eyes closed, savouring his orgasm, breathing hard and long to recover his composure. The spunk slowly dripped down both my hands and off on to his inner thighs. I shook him to get him to open his eyes, he smiled but didn't immediately start getting presentable even though the station was fast approaching. I was getting concerned, I didn't want to be seen in a compartment with an older man in a state of undress so I started to get cleaned up, wiping his spunk from my hands on to my tee-shirt, quickly pulling the leg of my shorts down to hide my still erect cock that really wanted to be finished off as well, but poor timing had intervened on this occasion.
This wasn't my station as I'd quite a few more to go so I couldn't really get off and run when the train eventually did stop, so I helped him get tidied-up. He suddenly appreciated the urgent situation we were in. The train was entering the station but still going too fast for anyone to see what was happening in our compartment. I pulled up his Jockey Y-fronts getting them to mop-up as much spunk that was on his thighs, pubes and belly. Then I followed with his shorts, he belted them and zipped up his fly. It was still easy to see his bulge in the khaki shorts. He straightened his hair and sat down as did I. Just as the train squealed to a stop.
Doors opened and slammed shut as we looked across at each other. This time someone else did get in to 'our' compartment and sat down at the near side window. A young woman, maybe in her twenties, floral, summery frock, long shoulder length hair obscuring her face for a moment as she stared from the window towards the platform shops outside.
I wonder if she could smell the sexually charged atmosphere in the compartment?
As the train pulled out of the station, I knew it wouldn't be long before my knob-head would be poking down the left leg of my football shorts once again.
The man opposite, with careful hand manoeuvres in his pocket, (pulling up the leg elastic of his Y-Fronts, bit by bit) managed to get his cock to stick down the right leg of his shorts and we spent the remainder of the journey checking-out each others bulbous bell-ends, with the occasional drip of PC glistening there.
Needless to say, when I did eventually arrive home, it was straight up to the shower to clean off properly and to wank myself off recalling that afternoon's most unusual and exciting happenings. I hardly had to wank my cock as I was so horny, it was just three or four times before shooting an incredibly hot release of teenage spunk all down the glass of the shower, I had to hold on to the wall rail as my legs weakened and buckled and I slipped slowly to the shower floor.
This was certainly one story I would not be retelling when we all got back to school and talked of our holiday exploits!
It was almost exactly a year since my 'Changing Room' incident that was revealed in my previous story. I was a year older, but was I any wiser?
I'd been working away from home for the whole of my summer holidays and it was time to return there, and then within days back to school.
I was 16 and had been 'sort of apprenticed' to a foreman in charge of refurbishing shops for the last 6 weeks. The job wasn't really the type most schoolboys got in their holidays, some never bothered to work and became beachbums instead, others went at it half-heartedly doing chores around the house just to earn a bit of pocket-money to tied them over, but I looked upon it as a serious way of earning some 'real' money and learning some new skills. (Little did I know the range of new skills I'd return to school with).
The job meant I was staying away from home. You could do that back in 1970, and at sixteen, no one really batted an eyelid since most people left school then and went out to work anyway.
The job had finished in the middle of the week due to the August bank holiday in England and it was now a seventy mile train journey home along the south coast.
Even in the 70s some train carriages were well beyond their sell by date, and there were still quite a few old fashioned carriages in Southern Railway's run down and grubby service. These have now long since vanished, but then you had a door on each side of the compartment that allowed access in from either platform (depending which way the train was pointing) and two banquette bench seats either side of the doors that stretched from one side window to the other and could seat about eight passengers on each.
It was possible to travel the whole journey sitting in your own little compartment all by yourself. On other occasions you could be in this type of carriage with numerous other passengers who you were stuck with until either you got off or they did. The design meant there was no corridor which would have allowed you to walk along the train and escape. You're literally 'trapped' in your compartment until you could get off...and with no toilet access of course, you had to plan your trip carefully.
I climbed in, threw my haversack and small case onto the luggage racks above the seating and settled down into the far window seat. The whistle sounded, a few more doors slammed and slowly the train pulled out of the station. It was warm and sunny and almost the end of summer, just September to go.
I was by myself in the compartment at least until the next stop some fifteen minutes away.
Since my early teens I had always been interested in boy's and men's briefs and male underwear in general; the different styles, colours, materials and even the pictures on the packaging could get my teen cock tingling in my Y-Fronts. I loved shopping for briefs, handling the packs, seeing the dummies modelling the latest styles, even trying them on in shops before buying! Many times I'd leave a shop having to disguise an erection after an enjoyable few minutes playing around in the underwear aisle!
Just a few minutes out of the station, the train was passing numerous thin, long back gardens that ran right up to the side of the tracks on both sides of the train and I was getting a good eyeful of a whole range of briefs, and panties flapping from washing lines as we rumbled by. It intrigued me to know what other people wore under their outdoor clothes.
There...I assumed were three pairs of an 11 or 12 year old boy's hipster briefs, they were a bright cherry red, sky blue and bottle green and looked to be nylon. Next on the washing line, would be his older sister's gym knickers, dark navy and thick cotton, and then a similar sized pair in cream. Then it was their mum's...it looked like she preferred quite skimpy bikini briefs, lilac, pastel shades of blue and pink, then a solid black and several pairs of white, some edged in lace, others just plain cotton or could it be nylon? Then finally their dad's, classic Jockey Y-Fronts, in plain white with a thin waistband, and several coloured Y-Fronts with the white piping around the leg openings and the inverted "Y" which made them so very distinctive and noticeable at such a distance.
In the late 1960s and early 1970s, most men wore Jockey Y-Fronts or the same style from other shops in the high street such as Marks and Spencer, C&A or Littlewoods. Even Woolworth's sold their own Y-Fronts under the Winfield brand label. Boxers were around, but tended to be loose fitting and made from a cotton poplin type material, just like shirts. And then there were still the old timers who wore long-johns, but at the end of summer, these were difficult to find on washing lines.
The next couple of gardens had just towels and sheets, the odd pair of pyjamas, a pair of curtains, but very quickly followed by another garden whose washing line was displaying an array of undies, both male and female. Wednesday must be "Undies Day" I thought. Lines and lines of men's briefs, mainly Y-Fronts, the occasional hipster, usually of nylon. I even saw a Wolsey Adam brief and a couple of 'Jockey Skants', the skimpiest of nylon bikinis that would hardly contain a man's tackle, even when not aroused.
My mind would wander as to what size the cocks and balls were that filled these underwear items pegged there as the train went passed. I tried to put an age on the person that wore them, and what they had underneath. was it 'Cut / uncut', 'fat', 'skinny', 'knobbly', '4" erect or 7" soft', or even a 'BBC' ?
The style, colour and waist size was a bit of a give-away. It was usual for older men, mid thirties onwards to be the classic, white Jockey Y-Front wearer with a waist size of say 36" to 38".
Where as a mid twenties man would more than likely be wearing those bright red or blue Jockey sports Briefs with the white contrast piping and having a waist measurement of around 32" to 34".
The late teens guy would be the owner of a Jockey Sports Slip, (the coloured cotton hipster with the contrast white leg openings and stitching, but no fly) and a waist of maybe 30" to 32".
Whilst the mid aged teenager, that's me, with a waist of about 26" to 30" could have a foot in either camp. The ones whose mum would buy their underwear for them and more than likely they ended up with boring white Jockey Y-fronts (just like mine did) or, if they were lucky, they could buy their own, or even had a mother who asked "what would you like me to buy you?"
Youngsters and p*****ns tended to have brightly coloured hipsters with a geometric pattern or sometimes a cartoon character, just like today nearly fifty years on, it's still the same, but now it's Star Wars or Minions whereas in 1970 it was still Disney or maybe a scary Incredible Hulk image!
I was getting myself excited thinking of the many types of pricks that would bulge the material of the various briefs that were displayed on the washing lines.
I moved my hand to my crotch and could already feel my swelling teen cock in my nylon football shorts. I rubbed the outside of the smooth material with the palm of my hand making firstly circular motions over my dick, but as he grew to his full extent I now moved the palm of my hand up and down the full length of my erect teen prick. Pushing down harder, as I moved my hand up and down my shaft, just made me even more excited and desperate to wank him off there and then in the train's compartment. I'd taken a real eyeful of briefs and was feeling quite horny. I checked my watch and knew it wouldn't be long before the next station, so instead I slipped my hand up inside the short's right leg and inside the nylon net inner brief.
Ah! That was great, I opened my hand fully and covered as much of my cock and ball sac as I could with the inside of my right palm and fingers, rolling my hand in a slight circular motion, keeping him fully erect and enjoying every second of it. It was very warm down there. I licked my lips lasciviously, moving the tip of my tongue slowly around both lips as if I was licking around the cunt lips of a girl I'd met at a party. I'd never had the chance yet, but at least I wanted to imagine what it would be like.
I pulled my hand out from under my shorts but with a couple of fingertips I continued to trace the full outline of my burgeoning member as it pointed to the left, pressing it occasionally and yes, at last a drip of pre-cum oozed from my Jap's eye, through the mesh inner brief and through the navy blue nylon of the football shorts, depositing itself on the outside. I touched it with my fingertip, collecting the gem and brought it up to my eager lips, my tongue coming out to snare the catch and slip back inside with it. Mmm! Tasty.
The train started to slow as it approached the first stop. I was hot and slightly flushed, it could be the August heat, but more than likely my activities, cut short by the oncoming station.
The train lurched to a standstill, brakes squealing, doors slamming. The chatter of people close-by on the opposite platform drifted in the window I had opened. General hubbub followed, announcements, people running, the dispatching whistle and I'd managed yet again to get away with no one else in my compartment, or so I thought. As the train very slowly started to move a gentleman grabbed at and opened the door handle and climbed into the carriage, slamming it behind him and collapsing somewhat in a heap on the opposite cushioned bench seat. Out of breath, he gathered his composure before announcing
"Phew! That was a close thing!"
I looked across at him, I'd say he'd be in his late thirties maybe even early forties, and already my parallel thoughts were thinking of what he was wearing underneath the khaki shorts he had on. I settled upon "Classic Jockey Y-Fronts, white, size 36" to 38" waist."
He seemed to fit the profile perfectly.
He'd nicely tanned legs that wore hiking socks and a pair of walking type boots. His short sleeved shirt had wet sweat patches in each armpit where his exertions in catching the train had made him perspire somewhat.
As I'd been working indoors all summer, and had on worker's all-in-one overalls, my legs were pasty white compared to his, my arms were not quite as bad as during lunchtime we all managed to sit outside, but obviously couldn't take our overalls off to get some rays on our legs!
I looked out of the window and down at the tracks as we moved on through East Sussex. As I repositioned my gaze to near distance and focussed at the glass window instead, I could see him looking at me in the reflection. I turned away from the window, looked him straight in the eye for a second and then returned to look at passing washing lines with their inevitable underwear gems dangling from them.
Y-Front, T-shirt, Vest, Y-Front,
Hipster, Panty, Panty, Bra, Socks,
Y-front, Towel, Hipster, Bra,
Knickers, Panty, Bikini Brief...
I could feel my cock growing again held in by the confines of the net security brief that shorts usually had. It had come up against the elastic of the inner brief's leg opening and as this was just barely the thickness of a rubber band, my erect cock forced itself passed the elastic and to freedom in the leg of my football shorts. The sudden feeling of freedom gave it even more impetus to grow thicker and longer with more blood flooding into the growing phallus each second. It had gained its full teen size and was sitting inside the left leg of my shorts pointing towards the other passenger. I'm sure he couldn't see it from the way I was sitting, but I had a sudden urge to move my position and let him see it if he so wanted. I opened my legs wider and was sure that he couldn't help but see the tip of my unhooded knob up the left leg of my shorts. I licked my lips again as the undies flew by on washing lines outside the window. I focussed at near distance once more and saw in the reflection he was looking directly at my shorts, and in particular the left leg, and I could easily make-out that he'd started slowly caressing the crotch of his own shorts. I never once looked at him but was looking at his reflection all the time but pretended it was the countryside I was viewing the other side of the glass.
I moved my left hand down to my knee and made out I was itching it, and then slowly moved it back along the top of my bare thigh and rested it there for a few seconds before sliding the palm of my hand nearer to the opening of my short's leg. I stopped with my thumb on the hem of the shorts, and fingers bent slightly, resting half way between knee and crotch. I focussed on the window again and unbelievably he was slowly unzipping his shorts and allowing his right hand to enter into the warm, darkness beneath.
Maybe the sound of the travelling train muffled my sudden intake of breath, but I just couldn't believe that someone would do that in a railway compartment with another person in view just opposite. As I continued to watch his reflection, I was very aware that my cock had deposited another drop of pre-cum on my leg, I could feel the drip very, very slowly moving down the inside of my thigh. I wanted to pick it up like before, but thought better of it, instead I slowly moved my thumb under the leg hem of the shorts and eased it towards the head of my erect cock which was barely an inch away now. I could almost touch it with the tip of my thumb if I tried harder.
In the reflection I was amazed to see that the passenger opposite had now eased his mature penis from the confines of his underwear and it was poking out of his shorts through the unzipped fly. He put his thumb and a couple of fingers just behind his foreskin and started to slowly wank his bell-end, the skin quietly moving up to cover it and then slowly down again to show the mature purplish knob. His thighs relaxed and fell open slightly almost mimicking the position I was in. He continued and as his cock became more erect he was able to grasp it with more fingers, now four fingers coursed up and down his phallus, uncapping, then capping the bell-end.
Dare I look at him straight in the eye?
I continued the reflected look, and saw he was enjoying it every bit as much as I was, watching him wanking himself in front of me. With his left hand he deftly unbuckled his belt and undid the waist button of his shorts and in one swift movement he stood up and allowed the shorts to fall to the train floor. I could see I was right, there he was wearing just what I thought, White Jockey Y-Fronts, possibly a size 36" I guessed as I couldn't see the label inside the waistband. I turned now and viewed the unreflected him, looking straight at his dark brown eyes and a sort of smile that conveyed what I was thinking. He shuffled closer to me across the distance between the seats and presented his engorged bell-end just centimetres from my face, poking through the briefs fly opening. I don't know why but I just opened my mouth, it just seemed the natural thing to do at that moment and seeing his opportunity, he moved forward and his purple headed cock head slipped so easily into my warm, inviting mouth. I'd never tasted cock before, but wow! What an experience for me at sixteen to have a mature man's prick in my mouth? I was certainly coming of age on the train home.
He grasped my head and pulled me gently towards him and then slowly pushing me away again, he repeated the action again and again, towards him, away from him, towards him, away from him, so basically I was wanking him with my mouth and lips. Instinctively I reached up with my hands, slipped them under the leg openings of the Y-Fronts and gently placed each one on a hairy, firm buttock of his and as he pulled my head more towards him with his cock going deeper into my mouth it seemed so natural to assist the rhythm by pulling his butt towards me at the same time. I could barely take all of his mature cock in my still adolescent mouth. It was a struggle and several times I gagged at the depth it was going into my moist hole. His knob was grazing across the opening at the back of it, making breathing hard and I had to pull back occasionally for air as my nostrils were being forced into thick pubic hair and layers of skin above his pubic bone. I allowed him to pull his cock fully out and it bounced up and down, deflecting a few centimetres in each direction. He pulled his large member back through the Y-Fronts opening and allowed the briefs to drop down to his ankles.
I sucked in cool reviving air, trying to calm my racing heart.
This was hard work for a total novice like me, but as he moved closer to me again, I prevented entry by closing my lips firmly onto my extended tongue, and instead I used my moist tongue to travel up and down the length of his member starting at his ball sac, enticingly licking around his balls and the hair that nestled there, flicking them with my tongue and making them sway slightly in their warm sagging sac. He spread his legs more and allowed me to slip a finger of my right hand towards his anus. It was hot and sweaty around there with twisted arse hair and glistening moisture. I ran my finger tip around the circumference of his sphincter. I could feel it twitching in response to my action, beckoning me to enter into that most secret of places. My tongue was now at his glans, licking around the groove and over his very sensitive knob which was oozing several drops of PC from its slit. I put just his bell-end into my mouth once more and sucked out the PC from his cock, clear, warm, sweet nectar. At the same time I pushed the tip of my index finger into his anus, and he instantly responded with a gasp of pleasure.
I felt very much out of my depth now. What I was doing was totally alien to me and I didn't want to make a hash of it and appear to him that I was a total novice (which I was). I can't recall even put my fingertip in to my own arse, let alone a total stranger's, so without going any deeper and playing with my finger tip in his, I slowly withdraw it. Again another gasp, I suppose more of a sigh, at what wasn't going to happen, came from the man in front of me.
I gestured towards the long banquette seat behind him, with a nod of my head. He shuffled back with briefs and shorts around his ankles and sat back down on the seat.
As I stood up to approach him I could see my fully erect adolescent cock pushing its bell end out from my short's left trouser leg. The man stretched out his right hand to grasp it, but knowing I would barely last a few seconds had he started to wank or even suck me, I shook my head reluctantly and instead knelt down on the carriage floor in front of him.
I grasped his cock with my right hand and started to masturbate him. It was so much thicker and had so many large veins giving it a ribbed look and feel. Mine in comparison at 16, was naturally smaller and thinner and here's me thinking I was quite well hung. (I hope mine's that big when I'm his age, I thought). Unlike me, there was plenty of space remaining on his big mature prick to put my left hand as well, and I proceeded to give him a two handed wank. My teenage hands totally gripping and covering this man's mature cock and riding up and down together the full length of it. Capping and then uncapping his uncut dick-head. He relaxed more and allowed his knees to open further, maybe he wanted my fingertip back in his cherry, but I continued rubbing the gorgeous member in front of me, slowly picking up the pace as I was now worried I might not get him to orgasm before the next station.
Surely I couldn't leave him in such a state of sexual excitement? I was also very aroused, a combination of the situation, the fact that I was doing something so unexpected at my age to a much older man had my bell-end dripping PC as well. I pulled the left leg of my football shorts right up to my groin and allowed my straining cock and balls the freedom they wanted and they were now full exposed bobbling up and down as I replaced my hand and continued to wank the man in front of me.
I could sense he was getting close to ejaculating, his breathing was faster and deeper and I could see his ball sac tightening and darkening in readiness of his coming orgasm. Almost on cue as the train started to brake, his hips shook and jerked as a very long stream of spunk shot straight up and then down again all over my right hand, left wrist, his pubes and belly button. Another one followed, and yet another with less spunk forcing their way from his slit. He rested his head back on the seat cushion, eyes closed, savouring his orgasm, breathing hard and long to recover his composure. The spunk slowly dripped down both my hands and off on to his inner thighs. I shook him to get him to open his eyes, he smiled but didn't immediately start getting presentable even though the station was fast approaching. I was getting concerned, I didn't want to be seen in a compartment with an older man in a state of undress so I started to get cleaned up, wiping his spunk from my hands on to my tee-shirt, quickly pulling the leg of my shorts down to hide my still erect cock that really wanted to be finished off as well, but poor timing had intervened on this occasion.
This wasn't my station as I'd quite a few more to go so I couldn't really get off and run when the train eventually did stop, so I helped him get tidied-up. He suddenly appreciated the urgent situation we were in. The train was entering the station but still going too fast for anyone to see what was happening in our compartment. I pulled up his Jockey Y-fronts getting them to mop-up as much spunk that was on his thighs, pubes and belly. Then I followed with his shorts, he belted them and zipped up his fly. It was still easy to see his bulge in the khaki shorts. He straightened his hair and sat down as did I. Just as the train squealed to a stop.
Doors opened and slammed shut as we looked across at each other. This time someone else did get in to 'our' compartment and sat down at the near side window. A young woman, maybe in her twenties, floral, summery frock, long shoulder length hair obscuring her face for a moment as she stared from the window towards the platform shops outside.
I wonder if she could smell the sexually charged atmosphere in the compartment?
As the train pulled out of the station, I knew it wouldn't be long before my knob-head would be poking down the left leg of my football shorts once again.
The man opposite, with careful hand manoeuvres in his pocket, (pulling up the leg elastic of his Y-Fronts, bit by bit) managed to get his cock to stick down the right leg of his shorts and we spent the remainder of the journey checking-out each others bulbous bell-ends, with the occasional drip of PC glistening there.
Needless to say, when I did eventually arrive home, it was straight up to the shower to clean off properly and to wank myself off recalling that afternoon's most unusual and exciting happenings. I hardly had to wank my cock as I was so horny, it was just three or four times before shooting an incredibly hot release of teenage spunk all down the glass of the shower, I had to hold on to the wall rail as my legs weakened and buckled and I slipped slowly to the shower floor.
This was certainly one story I would not be retelling when we all got back to school and talked of our holiday exploits!
před 3 roky/let
