Stories I Create On The Train

I wrote part of this while in the grips of medication and exhaustion. I’m only marginally more alert and traveling to boot. This particular train story won’t leave me alone though.

The moment he entered the train I got that… Feeling about him.

He had dark, close cropped hair that I wanted to touch. He had to workout with a body that cut and an ass you could bounce a quarter off. The fluid way he moved was lovely to watch as he moved down the train, speaking to a certain grace that appealed to me. He just seemed to glow, and came off like he was more than aware how he affected other people with his good looks. I was definitely attracted to him.

There was something sensitive about him though. Maybe it was a mouth a touch too full, eyes that seemed to hold a certain light to them, or his erect posture. I just got the feeling that he liked it better on the bottom.

Nothing that said he was gay, just that he loved being made to submit, loved having his ass plowed.

I pictured him kneeling at the feet of a leather clad dominatrix with midnight black hair. Her breasts overflowing the cups of her corset as she bent to pet his head. He’d be excited and eager for her affection, stretching to into her touch like a big cat. Then when she finished inspecting her property, she’d have him present that lovely, round, delicious ass for her to take.

His expression as she drove that strap-on deep inside him would be filled with such agonizing joy. It would be hard to look away if I were in the shadows watching, because of course I’d want to watch. The way he’d moan would make me feel like I’d been missing out on something so good.

The image dissipated from my mind’s eye, and I consider the other possibility as I watched him sway with the train’s movements.

Maybe he is gay.

Ooh, that’s even sexier to contemplate. Him held down by a man of equal strength and lighter hair. They’d crash against each other like rocks, fighting until My Bottom (yes, I think of him as mine) let the other gentleman top. I say let because I could tell he’d only submit to someone he deemed worthy. The blonde would definitely be worthy.

I bet he liked it rough. I bet the sound of flesh slapping together would make his cock so big. I imagined him coming all over as that hard shaft impaled him, his broad shoulders pressed to the floor.

This is my stop.

I can’t tell if it’s the jerk of the train stopping or my arousal making me shake. I need a breath of fresh air to get my equilibrium.

I don’t look back as I get off. I’ve already got enough fantasies for the spank bank without adding more.