From: taxhaven@ix.netcom.com(Adam Starchild)
Subject: Repost:  Train to Barcelona
Date: 1 Jan 1997 01:59:59 GMT

                       TRAIN TO BARCELONA

                               by 

                         Adam Starchild


     I've always been fascinated with trains.  There's something
thrilling and romantic about them -- a trace of nostalgia, white
tablecloths and freshly cut flowers, pastoral beauty. 
     Even when I was a child, I awaited the passing of a train
with eagerness.  I watched the seemingly tiny people in the
passenger cars and dreamed about the exciting places they were
traveling to.  I had taken several train trips as I had grown up,
but I never fully understood my fascination until I recently
vacationed in Europe. 
     While in Europe I took trains whenever possible -- across
the emerald green Irish countryside, past noble German castles
and through rugged mountains in Italy.  The trains were filled
with natives and tourists from all corners of the world.  I
chatted with many intriguing travelers, but my most memorable
experience occurred on a night train to Barcelona for the
Olympics. 
     Four of us occupied a charming little compartment -- two
Turkish students, an Argentinean gentleman, and me.  I boarded in
the late afternoon and passed several pleasant hours gazing at
the lush scenery.  When night fell and the train grew dark, I
began to focus on my fellow passengers.  The students tried their
frail English on me, but they quickly tired of the experience. 
The Argentinean, whose English was much better, politely
introduced himself to me as Javier.  I almost sensed a sexual
spark between us but casually shrugged it off as a passing fancy.
     As Javier talked, I was reminded of the elegance and
sophistication of Latin men.  He was darkly handsome and had a
sensual mouth and finely tailored clothes.  He genially explained
that he bought art for several galleries in Buenos Aires, then
asked about my American background. 
     Javier invited me to join him in the dining car and I
accepted.  We laughed and talked over a good bottle of wine, and
I found myself wishing I had met him in a more convenient place. 
     The students were asleep in the darkened compartment when we
returned.  Javier and I sat silently side by side, staring out at
the blackness that rolled by.  Lulled by the wine and the
monotonous churning of the wheels, it seemed perfectly natural
for me to lean my head on his shoulder.  Soon I felt his hand
slowly sliding between my thighs, starting a fire I longed to
quench.  Our lips met hungrily with a taste of wine, his tongue
gently touched mine.  I felt his hot breath in my ear as he
nibbled the sensitive lobe, then Javier moved his hand down to
the warm flesh of my chest.  My nipples hardened as he squeezed
them through the thin cloth of my shirt. 
     The movement of the train rocked us closer together, and our
passion rose.  But then I felt the train slowing down for a stop. 
We pulled apart just as the students awoke and, by some miracle,
they began gathering up their luggage.  They left the compartment
with what seemed to be agonizing slowness.  The 15-minute stop
seemed like hours as we impatiently waited. listening to the
movements outside and desperately hoping no newcomers would join
us in our compartment. 
     Finally the train began to move slowly into the night.  As
it picked up speed, Javier rose, drew the shades and locked the
door to the compartment.  Then he pulled me to him for a long,
sensuous kiss. 
     Opening my shirt, he stroked my chest, rolling the attentive
nipples between his fingers.  I reached for him and hurriedly
unfastened his shirt, running my hands and mouth across his
chest. 
     Pushing me back on the seat, Javier slid my pants down
around my shins and placed his warm mouth on my shorts-enclosed
bulge.  While dripping pre-cum through the material, his fingers
teased my dampening crotch.  I quickly helped him remove the
offending clothing, spread my legs and reveled in his experienced
lips.  I raised my hips to meet his tongue as it slipped up and
down my cock and moaned aloud as he sucked on my balls, but the
sound was lost in the clattering of the wheels.  Holding my bare
bottom steady on the cool leather seat, Javier licked me until I
gasped in climax. 
     Smiling, he stood just long enough to throw off his shirt
and drop his trousers to reveal a tantalizing, thoroughly
masculine sight.  I eagerly welcomed his body as he lowered
himself on top of me.  My nipples were teased by the hair on his
chest.  I lifted and opened my legs gladly as Javier pushed his
thick penis between them. 
     Our lips met as he slowly inserted the head of his cock. I
held my breath until he plunged his full length into me.  The
engine tore along the tracks as our bodies rocked together.  He
moved deeper and deeper inside me.  Soon our motions synchronized
with the rhythm of the churning wheels.  Our moans were covered
by the clattering noise. 
     Javier thrust on and on, bringing my body to such a pitch of
sensitivity that I screamed.  My primordial sound died with the
whistle of the train. As I regained my senses, Javier filled me
with his warm semen. 
     We somehow pulled ourselves and our clothing back together
in short order.  As I pulled on my coat, I wondered whether I had
been carried away by the speed and roar of the train or by the
erotic gentleman beside me. 
     One thing is certain:  my blood has never pumped so fast
before -- or since -- that memorable occasion.  I expect sex will
rarely be as good as it was then, cradled inside a noisy, black
train hurtling through the Spanish night.

                               End

Copyright 1995


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