Last Train Home

I thought it would be nice to play with some cock before heading home, so I stopped by Liperpool St. station. The public toilets were still open at midnight. There was a constant stream of drunk guys going in and out, standing by the urinals and pissing away their night’s content. I was drunk myself, having just parted from friends in Camden Town.

I noticed one guy, about my height, with cropped blonde hair and wearing a shirt and suit trousers, standing alone and checking me out. I moved from my position at the urinals to beside him. He stroked his hard cock and looked at me with a serious face, as if asking if I liked what I saw. Judging by what I showed him after I unzipped, he must have got the answer he wanted: after a minute or two of stroking cock, he gestured for me to meet him above ground.

I followed him to the entrance of the tube. He stopped and immediately asked if I’d like to go home with him. I didn’t know what to say; I was expecting him to lead me to a pub or dark alley for some cock-sucking (in my drunkenness, I forgot most pubs were closed.) I stood there, hesitating, then asked where he lived.

Mile End, he said, just outside the station.

Fuck, I thought. He lives right near me! His shirt was open at the top and I could see the hair coating his chest. I imagined being naked in his apartment, spending a couple of hours fucking… absolute heaven (he not only had a wonderful-looking cock but was good-looking as well.) He asked me to make up my mind since the last train was about to depart. I couldn’t get my boyfriend out of my head – the possibility of running into this stranger many times in the future in his company – so I finally said I couldn’t do it. He tapped me gently on the chest, smiling, and said it was OK.

I traveled the rest of the way home by bus, my heart shriveled. I could only think of the great hour of sex I’d lost. To my surprise, my boyfriend wasn’t home when I got in. I stripped naked in front of the mirror and began stroking my cock, trying to imagine what that stranger would see in me if I’d given myself to him. I lay down on the floor, still facing the mirror, stroking my cock, then noticed the dumbbells lying beside my feet. I brought one closer to me and pressed the metal bar against my asshole. The coolness of the bar against my ass spurred me on until I’d covered my chest in cum. I almost fell asleep on the carpet.

My boyfriend woke me up when he arrived. He was drunk as well. I slept for a few more hours but now, at 5:52am, I can’t close my eyes anymore. So I’m here, updating this blog, watching Porno Tube, and thinking again of that stranger as my cock pokes out of my underwear.

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This entry was posted in Cruising, Relationships and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Last Train Home

  1. Dan says:

    Often fall asleep late at night chest covered in my cum. Usually right infront of the fire. Warm cosy but alone

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