Date: Tue, 29 Jan 2002 11:31:51 -0500 From: Tom Cup <tom_cup@hotmail.com> Subject: The Train - Gay A/Y and Encounters The Train by Tom Cup Copyright 2001 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving youth/youth and adult/youth sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This story is part of the Tom Cup Short Story Galley To support this, and other stories by Tom Cup, visit: http://tomcup.isCool.net ************ The Train By Tom Cup The steam hissed from the big engine as I boarded the train heading from Kansas City to New York. I booked a sleeper cabin for the 10 p.m. departure, though I was hardly tired as the train belched and slowly began its pumping roll toward the east. The sound of the train immediately intrigued me. It was a mixture of masculine rumbles and feminine sighs. I loved the pulse and sway of the train. I loved how it rocked, and yet, thumped with a steady beat. Trying to sleep was useless so I made my way to the dining car. I was surprised that no one was there. I sat alone and watched the miles tick off, listening to the steady rhythm of the train, as it rolled, chuck, chuck chucking along. I was absorbed in my own thoughts, and in the rock and roll of the train, when he came into the dining car. He smiled in my direction and I, of course smiled back. "Mind if I sit with you?" He asked, "I can't sleep, too excited about the trip." I laughed telling his that that was exactly why I was up and sitting alone in the dining car. "Even if it wasn't for the old guy snoring next to me, I don't think I'd be able to sleep," he told me, "It's the sounds that get me." "Don't you like them?" "Of course I like them, that's the problem." "What do you mean?" "Well listen at them. I close my eyes and all I can think of is me and my girl getting it on in the back of my uncle's Ford, with her going, `ah, ah ah' and me pounding away. Know what I mean?" I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I didn't have a girlfriend, I didn't really know if I particularly liked girls. But now that the stranger had pointed it out, I could hear the passionate `ah, ah, ah,' under the rumble, rock and roll of pounding steel. I nodded. "You got a girl, then?" He asked. "Ah, no. Not really." "I'll tell you there's nothing like a good steady, rhythmic fuck. Nothing like it." I nodded. He pulled out a cigarette, offered me one -- but I didn't smoke -- he shrugged and lit his. He took a lung full of smoke and then blew it out into the cabin. I listened to the sounds of the train and watched him smoking to the train's rhythm. I excused myself and made my way back to my compartment, determined to sleep and forget everything the stranger had said. The problem was that in the dark of my compartment everything he said came rushing back. The sounds and movement of the train stimulated me. My cock throbbed to the sound of its marching. It was dark. I opened my cabin door and looked toward the lavatory. No one was in the corridor. Tiny dots of light marched down the corridor, giving just enough light to make your way up and down but not enough to disturb those sleeping in seats or cabins. I had to piss something fierce. The train padded along, jolting me and making my erection harder. I didn't know how I was going to make it go down so I could take a leak. I stood over the hole for what seemed like an hour, thinking of every horrid thing imaginable to calm myself. Finally I was able to discharge my bladder. I sighed with the release. I started back to the cabin, determined to forget the stranger's words and get some sleep. I had almost reached my compartment when the train made a turn and jump. I fell to my left and then to my right. A body passed mine. We collided. He was warm and soft. We grabbed each other trying to regain our balance. The train straightened, sashaying along. "I'm sorry," I said trying to make out the stranger's face in the dark. "It's OK," the voice came back. There was a long pause. I realized that we still had hold of each other. I released him. "I'm sorry," I said again, this time meaning for holding on to him for longer than I should. The train resumed its steady rhythm. The stranger's word's came back to me. My cock lengthened. "Sorry," I said again. We were closer to each other than we should have been. I could feel the heat of his body. His hands were still around my waist, as if steadying himself. The train lurched again and I fell toward him, our bodies pressed together. The train jumped and ground our bodies together. He was as hard as I was. "Don't be sorry." He said. I found myself leading him to my room. I could feel his hands clinging to my waist. I could tell he was younger than the guy that was in the dining car earlier. He might have been my age. I couldn't tell. I didn't care. As we entered the cabin, I reached for the cabin light. "No, please," He whispered, "leave it off." I turned toward him. Our arms wrapped around each other. Our mouths found each other's, our lips parted and our tongues played. His lips were hot on mine. The train bucked and our cocks pumped together. I was shaking as much from his uninhibited touch as I was from the rattling of the train. His hands glided over my body as we kissed. Our hips pumped to the cha' cha' cha' of the train. His hands pulled at my shirt. The buttons gave way, flying in every direction as he ripped my shirt open. I followed his lead, tearing his shirt from him. We couldn't remove each other's clothing fast enough. The train belched and turned, throwing us to the floor. We grabbed for one another, pulling our bodies together. Naked on the floor, with vibrating steel beneath us, we consumed each other's warmth, nibbled each other's flesh. He rolled me over on my back. His mouth found my nipples. He licked and nibbled on them until they were hard and sore. He slid down toward my stomach, tongue bathing me as he went. He swung his legs over my chest, his ass pointed at me, as his hot mouth engulfed my cock. I moaned and the train sighed. The smell of him filled my nostrils. I grabbed his hips and towed him to me. He slid back toward my waiting lips. The train sped along -- ch' ch' ch' ch' ch' -- racing towards its destination, carrying us along. My tongue slid into his dark tunnel. He groaned and pumped his ass on my tongue. His mouth stoked the flames of my loins. I wanted to cry out. I thrust again and again, into his mouth. He pushed deeper and deeper onto my tongue. The train whined and roared. I ached as he forced us to shift positions yet again. He pulled me atop him. Our lips met, mingling the favors of my cock and his ass. He lifted his legs and my cock rested at his hole. I could wait no longer. I thrust myself deep inside of him. His scream was drowned by the train's cry. His ass rode my pumping cock just as the rails joined with the pumping pounding of the train. We sped along screaming our pleasure, the train alerting all who cared to hear. ***** I wondered if it was a dream when I woke to the discharging of passengers. I knew it was not. The buttons scattered on the floor would have been enough evidence but the satisfaction in my loins was overwhelming. I gathered my things quickly, hoping to spy whoever it was that had made my ride on the train so unforgettable. I didn't know how I would tell. I didn't even know what I would say. All I knew was that it was an incredible experience. I passed seat after seat of passengers, some readying to depart the train, others remaining seated heading for other destinations. No one seemed even mildly interested in my parting. I sighed, resigned to remember the experience facelessly, when I heard a woman fussing at her son. The boy was apologizing profusely. He was beautiful, about my height but two, maybe three, years younger. He couldn't explain how he had lost all the buttons to his shirt. His mother scolded him for being so careless. "Sorry mom," He said smiling in my direction, "but things like that happen on trains." I shook my head, turned and ran into the guy from the dining care. I excused myself. He smiled and nodded. "So'd you have a good trip?" "Definitely, thanks." "Thanks?" he asked tilting his head. "Yeah, you were right." He smiled, knowingly and departed. ***** "The Train" is part of the Tom Cup Short Story Galley All Rights Reserved To support this, and other stories by Tom Cup, visit: http://tomcup.isCool.net Send comments to: tom_cup@hotmail.com