Date: Fri, 23 Sep 2011 12:21:56 -0400
From: sharp Harper <sharper@inorbit.com>
Subject: Story : Sodium

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 Story : Sodium

 'He had a nice body and was good looking.' God, what am I saying?

 I'm surrounded by nice bodies all over everywhere, and they get a good
looking at and sometimes I think 'wow, that's hot'.

 There's this guy on the tube I see nearly everyday. I often sit opposite
him in the carriage and follow him out (he goes to the same station as me)
up the escalator. So I get ample opportunity to scrutinise him.

 His neck is strong, rising out of his collar and supporting his head like
the neck of a well-bred stallion. His small round ears stick out like the
tiny handles on a coffee cup. And his hair is black, short and tapered at
the back. Very neat.

 Beautiful. He doesn't wear tight clothes but his body is so beautiful, you
can see it in the way the fabric falls, it reveals wide shoulders, defined,
slim waist; it slips easily between his round buttocks in a deep inviting
crease. As I press on up the escalator behind him I can examine him
minutely. His legs are robust and straight.

 As we exit the turnstiles I am often slightly ahead and we go our separate
ways.

 He isn't lazy. A mind at ease with duty. I can see that from the serious
look on his face. His eyes look straight, calmly concentrated on the
moment. Apart from the evidence in his body of regular physical exercise,
there's the regularity and punctuality of his routine each day - it
indicates a conscientious attitude, as does the well-ironed shirt, the
well-shined shoes and well-polished brief-case, the folds in his trousers.

 His pink lips. How I'd like to feel his pink lips caressing the shaft of
my prik.

 I can imagine it now.

 I imagine him now shod like a horse and whinnying in the paddock, glossy
and alert.

 I imagine inviting him to my room and letting him in and asking him to
seat himself. I imagine asking him to remove his shirt and him doing so
without questioning what I am going to do with him. I imagine him naked,
kneeling, his collar a bit too tight, his cuffs restraining his willing
hands and then taking out my rigid prik and stuffing it in his face. I
imagine him choking and pulling back, rearing, resisting, snorting and then
coming back, this time prepared and taking it, caressing the shaft with his
pink tongue and pink lips, caressing it and swallowing it, concentrating on
it, his studious dark eyes deeply engaged in the task of the moment.

 And his penis is as as erect as ever it could be. It bucks its head. I
stroke his hair, it tickles my palm and I sense his response to my
approval.

 Lots of men live on their own. I like to think of all men like that -
alone in their rooms playing with themselves. He probably wouldn't live
alone, I'm guessing. I'm guessing he lives in a house with a few other
people. I'd like them to find out he's been tied up and naked and spanked,
in a field, in the open air. That would totally change how they thought of
him. It would change how he thought of himself. He'd have to accept his
perversity and rejoice in it. He'd have to become their perverted
friend. They'd have to accept him as their perverted friend and they'd
probably be turned on by it. They'd find shit on his clothes and despite
his best efforts to keep tidy they'd see signs of disorder. Late
nights. They'd find him out when they expected him to be in, and in the
middle of the day they'd find him exhausted, sore and aching, asleep in his
underpants on top of his sheets, the light left on, a glass of milk half
... empty.

 His work would suffer.

 I cream again in his mouth and some of my rich cum spills down his
chin. He's so happy. He loves to turn me on. That face, that arse, there's
so much of him to fk I don't know where to start. Turn over boi, show me
your ashol. He springs around on all fours and sticks his bum in the
air. He's so happy, like a dog, with an erect tail, waggling in
excitement. I ease my nob into his gripping hol, but he pushes himself onto
it. Hold on there, boi. I wish to enjoy myself. I wish to feel this gently,
slowly, at my own pace. Your enthusiasm ... is getting out of control. I
pull it back and savour his whimpering desperation. Oh boi, you are
great. Hang on there. I'm putting it back in and he is grateful for it. His
depths are hot as fire.

 I can imagine it.

 *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

 I wrote that about 6 months ago. For most of that period I took a
different train due to scheduling differences at work. Then last week the
scheduling was restored.

 On the tube, half asleep cs it was so early, I sat down opposite almost
without noticing him, his face lolling forward, staring into nothing, his
hands dropped in his lap covering his crotch, his briefcase gripped behind
his ankles and his feet. His legs fell apart. He was sitting opposite me
like a doll, relaxed and unimpressive; but when I looked up he was staring
at me, a look of recognition - of knowledge even. I'm surrounded by nice
bodies all over everywhere so I don't notice everything, but I knew he was
there. I smiled at him but he had already dropped his gaze, a sullen though
not miserable look. His hand jerked in his lap. I flushed.

 As we got off the train he was beside me and said, 'Have a nice holiday?'
 Mastering my surprise I decided to lie, immediately.
 'Yehh. I..'
 'Anywhere nice?'
 'Umm, yehh, howd'you know?'
 He paused.
 'Well either that or you know, you're regular so I thought you were on
holiday.'
 'Oh right, well spotted.'
 'Yeah.'
 We stood on the escalator, for a change, like we were in no hurry. He got
on first so I was standing with my face towards his chest, looking up.
 'Good to be back,' I said.
 'I'll bet. Don't you like your work?'
 'I..'
 'Yeh you do. I can see that.' He stepped one foot a couple of inches
closer to steady himself on the moving stair. 'You always look eager.'
 'I..'
 'Eager to please.'
 I was flabbergasted, unfortunately.
 'They're lucky to have you,' he said, 'working hard.'
 'I..'
 My face flushed again. I was looking up at him from my lower step on the
escalator and feverishly sought for an answer. None came.
 'I..'
 'You hard worker you.' He laughed quickly and turned at the last minute as
the escalator flattened out, stepping neatly onto the deck, then slowing
his pace to let me draw level with him.
 'I'll see you tomorrow,' I said as we slipped through the turnstiles,
secretly congratulating myself on this conversational invention.
 To my surprise he turned to go to the same exit as me.
 'It's inevitable, isn't it?' he said.
 'What is?'
 He ignored my question.
 'This is the way you go everyday, isn't it? And up at the street you turn
left.'
 'Yes,' I said.
 'Let's take a look,' he said, turning the same way at the top of the
steps.

 We walked a few steps, with him on my left and the walls of the buildings
on my right.
 'There's... ah yes.' We came to a narrow side alley, still lit from the
night with a bright orange sodium lamp. He swiftly pushed me into it. I
walked ahead obediently, hardly daring to guess what I was in for. We came
to a recessed doorway and he pushed me into that. 'This is a good place,'
he whispered, crushing himself into me as I turned my back against the
door. It was dark and with his face in front of mine. All I could see was
the blinding orange light around his head. 'Do you like this?' His leg was
pressing against my groin.
 'Yes.'
 Harder.
 'Yes, I should say you do,' he said, plastering his mouth onto mine.
 He briefcase dropped to the floor as his hands felt their way round my
waist and into a firm exploratory grip on my buttocks.
 'Yes,' he said, 'that's right. Now...' He pushed me down to my knees,
opened his trousers and pulled out his ample, semi-hard dick, and I knew
exactly what he meant. He was quickly fucking my face, banging the back of
my head with repeated thuds against the door. And I struggled to free my
own dick as he shot his load deep in my throat.

 He paused to let me suck on as I jerked myself off, then tucked himself
back in.
 I stood up.
 He stroked my face.
 'Like to do that again?' he asked.
 'Er, yehh..' I said.
 'Don't seem too sure. Look I have to be going. I'm late.'
 'No I am sure I'd like to do it again,' I protested. 'Please!'
 'So what's the problem? We'll be seeing lots of each other.'
 'Looking forward to it...' I said, and as he gave me a quick kiss, a quick
fondle of my ass, sidled past me, hurried up the alley back to the street
and was gone, I thought, '... but that wasn't how I imagined it.'

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