Tangled Sheets (17 page)

T
he 5:17 train was about to leave when I reached my gate, the buzzer that sounded departure echoing loudly through the empty station. Cursing my client for calling the last-minute meeting that made me late, I put on a burst of speed. I just managed to slip into the last car by putting my briefcase in between the closing doors. There was going to be a nice scuff mark on the leather, but at least I wouldn't have to wait another hour for the next train out.

Since I'd started working for a law firm in the city six months ago, the train had become a regular part of my life. I still wasn't used to getting up half an hour earlier in the morning to catch the incoming to the city, and more than once I'd had to leave some hot number standing in a bar to catch the last express home. But despite the dent it was putting in my social life, the long ride was good for getting work done, and I did enjoy leaving the city behind me after a long day.

The train was packed, stuffed to overflowing with business types anxious to get back to the suburbs and forget the day's aggravations. Some had stacks of paperwork or laptop computers spread out, trying to finish up whatever they'd left undone before leaving the office for the day. Others were trying to relax, reading newspapers or paperback thrillers. I counted at least seven people reading the latest John Grisham novel as I looked for a seat.

There was only one empty seat, in one of the sections where two rows faced one another to form a square. Usually these were taken up by groups of guys playing cards on the way home, but not today. An older man was sitting in the aisle seat, and two young women sat across from him. Mumbling my apologies, I squeezed past them into the window seat.

As usual, the air-conditioning was on the blink, and the train was hot as hell. Luckily, the windows opened, letting in some air. I leaned back and loosened the collar of my shirt. My station was the last stop on the train, and it was going to be at least an hour and a half until the train got there. If I was lucky, I might be able to get some sleep.

The train was creeping along the elevated tracks that stretch out of the city, and the steady humming of the engine was putting me to sleep when a booming voice startled me awake. “Tickets, please. Have your tickets ready.” The conductor had entered the car, making his rounds to check the commuting passes. I fished in my shirt pocket for the blue monthly ticket I'd just gotten in the mail. I knew from experience what pricks the conductors could be if you weren't ready the minute they came by.

The conductor was making his way through the car, repeating the familiar “tickets, please” every few feet like clockwork. A couple of times I heard him giving instructions to people who needed to transfer, punching their tickets and barking out answers to their questions like a drill sergeant. Since my seat was almost all the way in back, it took a while for him to reach me. When I heard him say “ticket, please” I looked up, directly into a pair of beautiful blue eyes and a ruggedly handsome face. What I could see of his hair under his uniform hat was dark blond and cut short, and he had a mustache.

“Thank you,” he said, looking quickly at my ticket and handing it back in one huge hand. His fingers were long and thick, and his arms were covered with the same burnished golden hair as on his head. After checking the rest of the tickets, he moved on to the next row.

“I love taking Jon's train,” the woman across from me said to her friend. “He really makes sitting here a lot easier to take.” I completely agreed with her but didn't say anything. Instead, I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep again. But all I could see was Jon's face and those blue eyes. I wondered if his chest under his white shirt was as hairy as his arms and felt my cock start stirring in my pants.

Quickly, I shifted the briefcase on my lap, hoping no one would notice my unruly dick acting up. I tried to get Jon's face out of my head, but as the train rolled on beside the river I continued to think about him. My rock-hard cock was pressing against my groin, and my balls felt trapped inside my boxers. I desperately wanted to jerk off and couldn't wait to get home, where I could lie on my bed and shoot a load off thinking about the hunky ticket puncher.

Finally, the train started to make its stops. Beechwood, Irvington, Briarcliff Manor. As each stop neared, Jon's voice came over the loudspeaker, waking those who were dozing and reminding passengers to take all of their belongings with them when leaving the train. Every time his deep baritone rang through the car I felt a tug in my nuts.

The train emptied a little more at each stop, and finally I was alone in the car. I stretched out, putting my feet up on the seat across from mine. Now that there was no one to see me, I put my hand between my legs, lazily massaging my aching balls through my pants and daydreaming about Jon.

The train bounced over a bump in the tracks, and I opened my eyes. Jon was sitting in the seat across from me, watching me intently. One hand was resting on his obviously hard cock, the fingers rubbing the head where it lay halfway down his thigh. He had a big grin on his face. “You know you're not supposed to put your feet up on the seats, don't you?” he said slowly. “I'm afraid I'm going to have to fine you for that.”

He leaned over and pulled the tie from around my neck, letting it slide around my throat. Then, taking my hands in his powerful grip, he wrapped the silk around my wrists, tying my hands together. Pulling them over my head, he wrapped the other end of the tie around the lower bar of the steel frame that rose out of the back of the seat to hold cardboard advertising posters. While it didn't hurt me, I knew that I wouldn't be able to break the knot he had tied. All I could do was sit there looking up at him.

I was afraid someone would come in and see us, but Jon seemed unconcerned. Outside, I could see the summer landscape flashing by in a blur of green, but inside all there was was the deep blue of Jon's eyes as they stared into mine. Slowly, he undid the buttons on my shirt and pulled it open. He ran his hands over my chest, pinching my nipples slightly as his fingers moved over them. Then he untied my shoes and pulled them off along with my socks. Finally, he unbuttoned my pants, removing them and my shorts in one quick motion and tossing them on the floor of the train.

Freed from its prison, my cock stuck straight up toward my chest, my balls slipping down between my spread legs to rest on the cool vinyl of the seat. As a result of all my fantasizing, a string of precum was dripping from the tip of my dick, forming a silvery spiderweb between my cockhead and my stomach. I wanted badly to stroke my throbbing meat, but all I could do was wait and see what happened next.

Jon sat down and looked me up and down. He unbuckled the black leather belt at his waist and pulled the zipper of his blue uniform pants down slowly. Then, shifting his hips forward, he slid the pants off, pushing them down his thighs. He wasn't wearing underwear, and as his pants moved down his legs more and more of his cock was revealed. It was as thick as my wrist, with a head the size of a lemon. His stomach was covered with thick dark brown hair, but his balls were smooth and bare, hanging heavily beneath his stiff prick.

Once his pants were off, Jon shed his shirt, exposing a well-built chest with nipples that stood out against his tanned skin. As I'd hoped, it was also covered with thick swirls of fur. Still wearing his hat, he leaned back in his seat, placing one foot on either side of me so that I had a good view of his prick. Wrapping his fingers around his thick piece, he began to jerk off slowly, letting his hand slide gently up the shaft and then squeezing the head before traveling back toward his balls. As he milked his cock, precum began to drip from the lips of his swollen dickhead. He wiped some away with his fingers and worked it into the skin of his prick. Soon the length of his dick glistened wetly with his juice.

Watching this hunk stroke his cock was making me horny as hell, and the fact that I couldn't touch him made me even hotter. I couldn't keep my eyes off his hand as it moved up and down his hard-on, thinking about what it would be like to have him inside me. My own prick was begging to be stroked, too, but the knot that held the tie around my wrists only got tighter the more I pulled against it. The fucker must have been one hell of a Boy Scout.

Jon was really enjoying watching how worked up I was getting. As he pumped his meat with one hand, the other worked his tits, rubbing his nipples between his fingers and tugging at them until they were as hard as rocks. Then, smiling wickedly, he spread his legs even more, putting a foot on the armrests on either side of me. Hefting his bull balls in one hand, he pulled them up, holding them against his cock like a bunch of flowers. His meaty ass cheeks were spread, giving me a look at the rosy hole at their center.

Squeezing some more cock juice from his shaft, Jon wet one long finger and ran it under his nuts and down toward his asshole. Still pumping his prick, he slipped his finger in between the lips of his tight cherry, slowly turning it as he penetrated his ass. As I watched Jon fuck himself, my nuts almost blew, despite the fact that no one was touching them. Jon's finger slid slowly in and out, matching the rhythm of the train as it traveled over the tracks, pushing his hips up until his whole finger was buried inside his hole. The shadows coming in the window ran over his body like a film on a wall, bathing him in flickering light as if I were watching him under water.

As he fingered himself faster, pushing his finger deeper and deeper between his legs, I could feel the heat from his skin where he lay close to my body. But every time I would move so that he was touching me, Jon would pull away, keeping himself just out of my reach. He was stretching his ballsac, rolling his nuts around in his hand and slapping his hard prick against his stomach while he worked on his ass. The sight of this big stud fucking his own asshole was almost more than I could take.

Finally, when I thought I couldn't stand it anymore and was about to beg him to untie me, he stood up and turned around. Placing his hands on either side of the seat, he leaned over, pushing his hairy ass right at my face. I watched it come toward me, waiting to bury my face between his hot mounds. But Jon stopped just before the smooth curve of his delicious butt reached my mouth.

Pulling against the tie, I leaned forward and ran the tip of my tongue over the warm skin of Jon's ass, feeling the rough hair, tasting his sweat. I traced the line of his muscular cheeks and licked as far as I could down his leg, wanting more than anything to stick my tongue into his man crack and taste what was waiting in there.

Jon pushed back a little more, just enough for me to get my nose in between his ass cheeks. I was rewarded with the rich scent of his musk, so strong it clung to my face where I pressed against him. Eagerly, I snaked my tongue into him, working it in as far as I could go. The sides of his ass closed against my tongue as I slid it up and down the sides of his crack, licking him clean. Then he pushed back roughly, and I tasted the sweet center of his butthole. My hungry tongue dived into the wrinkled opening to his chute, and I tasted the precum he had fingered into it just minutes earlier.

As my mouth worked on his asshole, I could see Jon's shadow against the wall. He was jerking off, pushing his fist against his balls on the way down and pulling at the head as his hand swept up again. The more I tongued him, the harder he pounded his meat, the motion of his hand throwing long shadows across the floor. His balls swung steadily under him, every so often slapping against my chin as I nuzzled deep in his butt.

Soon he began to moan audibly and rammed himself against me, forcing my tongue into the depth of his spit-slicked ass chute. I heard him let out a low groan and felt his body stiffen. Pulling my face away from his ass, I saw thick ropes of cum flying from his cock, spattering the blue vinyl of the seat in front of him with wave after wave of cream. Jon gripped his prick tightly, coaxing still more cum up his shaft and out the tip. It hung heavily from his engorged dickhead for a few seconds, then rolled off and fell slowly onto the seat like honey from a spoon.

Jon turned around and faced me. Amazingly, his cock was still as hard as it was before he came. The vein in his dick throbbed once more, and another pearl of cum appeared. Jon wiped it away with his finger and brought it to my lips. He slipped his finger into my mouth, working it between my lips like it was his asshole. I sucked the jism from his finger, surprised at how warm and sweet it was.

Jon stood over me, his cock pointing at my chest, his balls hanging like overripe fruit about to fall from a tree. I could smell the rich scent of his crotch as his hand continued to move steadily up and down his still-stiff dick. Kneeling over me on the seat, he leaned forward, and the head of his prick pushed against my lips, warm and still wet from the load he'd just shot. I let my mouth close over it, stretching my lips to fit the whole thing in, hoping I'd still be able to breathe. I could feel the vein that ran under his cock and down to his balls pulse against my tongue as inch after inch of rock-hard flesh sank into my throat, coating it with a mixture of sweat and cum.

Jon hovered over me like a dark angel, his hands grasping the sides of the steel frame, his hat casting a shadow over his eyes. Sweat ran slowly down the valleys of his chest, and his mouth was set in a grim line as he fucked my face. His upper body rested against my arms where they extended over my head, and as he slid in and out of my mouth I felt the muscles of his chest tense and relax beneath their blanket of soft fur. His breathing was soft, and he moaned low in his throat as he ground his crotch against my face.