Stopping All Stations

It was a usual Thursday afternoon as he waited at Flinders Street Station for the train back home. Pigeons waddling along the platform, the wafting smell of deep fried Dim Sims and potato cakes, the indecipherable announcements by rail staff were all the usual sights and sounds of peak hour.

In his peripheral vision, a figure was approaching him and it caught his eye instantly. This figure was just his type. Casually turning his head, approaching him was a bald man no more than 38 with bulging arms, a rippling body and tattoos along his arms. He, Roger, was the true embodiment of a man. All he could do was stare.

Roger stood behind him, and so the cruising began. The casual glances, the inconspicuous head turns, he couldn’t get enough of this burly hunk of man. Within minutes, the train pulled into the station and he boarded the train. Roger followed. He sat, Roger sat opposite. As the train began to depart and enter the subway, the cruising continued.

As the train throttled towards its next stop, he eased the cruising and turned to look at his reflection in the window. Roger was looking at his crotch, instantly he knew there was potential for more. No straight man would stare so obviously at a stranger’s crotch. The cruising continued for another four stations until they arrived at his stop. He thought he’d take a risk, before reaching the station, he began to collect his bags in a way so obvious that he was about to get off (in more ways than one) that even Blind Freddie knew he was going to disembark.

He approached the train door, suggestive glances continued as the train pulled into the station. He exited and began to walk along the platform. The train began to sound, the doors about to close. Roger leaped up and dashed out the train. And began to follow him out the train station, and followed him all the way home, a mere three minute walk away.

At this point, it is still unknown whether any words had been exchanged. The pair arrived to his apartment and had rough passionate heated sex. Roger’s bulging arms taking his slender body roughly and having his way with him. The pleasure was indescribable. It was hot. Then as quickly as it began, it was over. Roger, the electrician, left and he was left on his bed naked, sweaty and satisfied. He was left wanting more.

Catching a train never was so much fun. He hasn’t seen Roger since, but he can’t wait to see him again.

This is true account of recent events as told to me. Pardon me while I light a cigarette. Anybody got a light?