Stranger on a Train

I was 19, frustrated and horny. No credit on my phone meant I couldn't call the girl I'd arranged to meet in the town a 45 minute train ride from home when she didn't show. It was going to be our second date and enough had happened on the first that led me to be confident I'd get some action. So I'd taken extra care of my appearance, including a trim and tidy downstairs. But all for nothing, I sighed despondently as I trudged back to the train station and faced the train ride home to my parent's house.

I got on the train and slid into a seat by the window on the left-hand side, facing the way the train would be heading. There was three seats on each side, separated by a central aisle. I was reminiscing about the first date when the girl and I had fooled around in a quiet park near the station. She'd put my hands on her tits as we kissed, and sighed when I put my hand up her shirt, grinding herself against me and breathing heavily. I was vaguely aware of somebody else getting on the train and it was only when I heard a noise I looked to my right and realised an older guy was sitting by the window on the other side of the aisle. He was opening a broadsheet newspaper and looked in his sixties; very respectable in a tweed suit and checked shirt. Definitely a well-off retired gent returning from a day in the city. Otherwise the train was deserted as I went back to my reverie and gazing out the window without seeing anything.

It was only when we got out of the city and into the darkness that I realised something, because suddenly the pitch darkness outside meant that I had a crystal clear reflected view of the inside of the train and the old guy. He was holding up the big broadsheet in front of his face but with the left side open so I could see inside clearly. I realised he had a porno mag in there. And it was definitely guys on the pages in front of him.

I didn't know what to do. My first reaction was honestly fear, which was ridiculous as I was in my physical prime from competing in middle-distance running. 6ft tall, 75kg and lean. Then I felt angry - I didn't ask for this creepy old dude to be waving gay porn in my face! But then I relaxed a bit as I realised he wasn't any physical threat and he was being pretty subtle about it really. And then he turned to look at me and put the porno and newspaper down.

A kind of jolt went through me. I was still looking at him through the reflection but he was staring at me, no mistake about it. I knew the train was deserted and that there was no cameras or ticket inspectors in those days on a mid-evening quiet regional line like this. That's when I realised that I my jeans were feeling like they were sitting up pretty high and tight: they must have ridden up a bit when I slid down slightly on the fabric seat after getting on the train. I was sitting with my right foot on the floor and my left foot rested on the top of the heater ledge which sat about four inches off the floor. So unintentionally the way I was sat was basically putting my groin area very prominently on display. I glanced down and realised to my horror that my earlier reverie and anticipated action had fluffed up my dick a bit, and there was more than a hint of a bulge there. It was exacerbated by the denim and my cotton boxers underneath riding up and squeezing everything together to make it more pronounced. It didn't help that I have a pretty big and thick uncut cock, which has since been described by more than one lover as "beautiful". Seriously.

I looked back out the window to see the older guy in the reflection and noticed that my semi-bulge was seriously getting him going: he was gazing at and had started running his right hand up and down his inner thigh. That's when I felt my cock twinge; fuck! It definitely got harder, and it felt good as the tightness increased on it. What was happening? I'm not gay, I thought. But the older guy definitely had a slight smile now and had rested his hand over where his cock must be, rubbing slowly up and down the tweed fabric. There was no denying it now, I was getting a raging hard-on as this old guy played with himself and stared at my now prominent bulge. I was panicking inside now, reeling from the confusion but also probably the horniest I'd ever felt.

I couldn't help myself, I had to do it to get some relief - at least that's what I told myself: I slightly thrusted up my hips, momentarily pushing my straining bulge up a couple of inches as I smoothed material down my thighs to take away the pressure on my straining cock. It didn't work. Glancing down I realised that it had made things worse! My cock, now no longer tightly bound by cotton and denim, was now even more obviously rock hard and pushing hard against the material. Oh fuck. I looked at the older guy through the reflection and he had slipped his hand inside his trousers and was clearly stroking himself, still slowly though. The sight of him doing that: because of me, because of my bulging cock, made me want to pull out my cock and show it to him, to wank myself until I came as he watched me spurt spunk on myself.

The thought of doing that nearly made me pass out and I could feel precum soaking through my boxers. He was definitely wanking under his trousers now as he watched me, his hand moving faster up and down. I wondered if he was going to take his cock out but the thought disappeared when he said quietly "show me that cock now boy".

Being instructed by this older guy nearly made me cum right then. What had been unleashed in me? Without thinking about what I was doing, almost as if I was hypnotised, I moved my right hand down slowly to my crotch and, leaving the top button of my button fly fastened, popped open the rest. Immediately the strain relaxed on my cock and I knew he now had a full view through my gaping fly at my grey cotton boxers. I couldn't help teasing him by pumping my hips up a couple of times and to my surprise as I did that he made some grunting noises and it was clear from his face he was cumming. I watched intently as he spasmed and felt hornier than ever. I was just about to open my boxers' fly when bright lights started flashing past the window and I realised we were pulling into the first station.

As the train slowed toward the platform the older guy gathered his things and got up to leave, still staring at my crotch the whole time as I hastily buttoned my fly and sat up straight to make my still throbbing cock less obvious. I kept looking in the reflection as he got off and wandered down the platform. The train remained deserted for the rest of the journey but I was too stunned to do anything other than try to take in what had happened. Pangs of guilt and shame and confusion competed with excitement at being watched like that and told what to do, and regret at not doing - or being made to do - more.

Later that night I had a very confused but horny wank, replaying the events and fantasising about what could've happened next if that hadn't been his stop. Please feel welcome to put in the comments what you think those fantasies may have involved!