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Public Transit Fantasy #01

Category: Gay Male
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This actually happened to me tonight on my commute from work. Well, everything up to the characters getting off the bus, anyway. The rest is a fantasy. I wrote it all in a burst after getting home, so it might be a little rough, but maybe it has the immediacy of what was going through my mind. Your comments or private message are always welcome.

I was reading my book on the bus, and I wasn’t really paying attention when I noticed a guy slide over into the seat that was facing me.

“Yuh like video games?” a voice asked.

I looked up. There was a young black guy sitting across from me, about eighteen or nineteen. Hair in cornrows under a baseball cap, large sunglasses covering his face, thin little mustache.

“Sorry?” I asked.

“You like video games?” he repeated, this time a little more clearly.

“Mm, not too much,” I said, looking back down at my book.

Is this guy trying to sell me something? I wondered. I tried to return to my reading, but I was distracted by the presence of the guy across from me. The back section of the bus was empty except for the two of us. He had put his earphones on, and as we drove down the street, he non-nonchalantly pulled out his wallet and leafed through it, pulling out a package of rolling papers before setting the wallet down on the seat beside him. He dug into a pocket of his oversized jacket and pulled out a plastic baggie. To my surprise, he started rolling a joint, right out in the open. It was an elaborate construction that involved joining two papers into a skinny j twice the length of a cigarette.

As he smoothed it out, I tried not to watch him too openly. Then he leaned back, and I half-heard him say something and saw his lips moving. I looked up, and it took me a half-second to decide whether he was talking to me or just rapping along to whatever he was listening to. He leaned back, and I tried to keep my eyes on my reading, though the fact that his crotch was right in my line of sight above the top of my book was distracting.

A few stops later, he stood up to get off. As he stepped down to open the back door, I looked over to his seat and noticed his wallet still sitting there.

“Hey!” I said. But with his headphones on, he was already stepping off the bus.

Without thinking, I stood up, grabbed the wallet and bounded down the steps. Right after I hit the sidewalk, the bus door closed and it rolled away. The guy was headed away from me a few steps down the sidewalk. I had to hustle to catch up to his long strides, and I tapped him on the shoulder.

“Your wallet,” I said, holding it up.

When he first turned around, he was giving me a what-the-fuck look. But when he saw the wallet and realized who I was, the menace went out of his expression.

“Shit,” he said as he took it from me. “I woulda been fucked without that.” He put it in his pocket.

He looked me over, seeing a white guy twice his age — shorter, but with about forty pounds on him, mostly in the belly.

“Thanks bro.” He looked around. “I owe you big time. You want some smoke?”

I looked him over. Standing beside him now, I could catch his odor. He smelled like he hadn’t showered that day — or like he was one of those guys who thought they were God’s gift and didn’t need to use deodorant. I looked around. We were on a quiet stretch of sidewalk with traffic rolling by behind us. There was a townhouse complex in the direction he’d been walking, and ahead of us, a path led down to a parkland ravine.

“I don’t mind some smoke,” I said. He nodded and stepped toward the path leading down to the ravine. I figured I’d try this now, while we were still more-or-less in public. “There’s something I’d like more, though.”

He paused and half-turned toward me. “Yeah? What you want?”

I looked at him. “You like to get your cock sucked?”

This was the dangerous moment. I knew a lot of black guys were very homophobic, and I wasn’t what sure what he’d do if he didn’t like the suggestion.

“Oh. You’re one of those.”

“I’m…” this didn’t seem like the opportune time to try to explain to him that I was one hundred per cent straight, but that, as I got older, I was learning to appreciate the cock. So I just said, “look… you like to get your cock sucked or not?”

He turned away from me. “Shit,” he muttered. But he started walking again back down into the ravine.

I followed a couple steps behind him as we walked down into the heavily-treed parkland. We walked along the paved path for a minute, then he turned onto a smaller dirt tail that split off. We only went a little way down that, but soon we were swallowed up by the trees, feeling cut-off from the world. We emerged by a little lookout over a creek, with a bench at the edge of the grass.

He sat down on the bench. “I need some of this.” He pulled out his joint, dug out his lighter and twisted the j as he lit it. He took a hit off it, and then a second, and then handed it to me. I took a puff, inhaling deeply, and handed it back to them.

“A’ight,” he said, and stood up. He nodded at me.

That was all I needed. I sunk to my knees in front of him and started undoing his belt. I got that done and proceeded to unbutton his fly. Just before I tugged his pants down, I looked up. The teen wasn’t watching what I was doing, instead puffing on his joint and staring off into the distance. Undeterred, I reached into the waistband against both his hips and his loose jeans and boxers easily fell down around his knees.

Now his cock was in front of my face, dangling limply. He was circumsized, and his soft cock very thin, but longer than you might expect. Not wanting to waste any time (or to give him a chance to change his mind), I put my mouth on it, and drew his cock in over my tongue. Right away, I was almost overpowered by his odor — strong, sweaty and musky. At first it was almost unpleasant, but as I breathed it in while I started sucking it started to smell sexy. And just as his smell was strong, so was the taste of his cock. Gamey was the word that drifted through my mind. Like venison instead of a steak.

It turned me on, and I set to work getting him hard. As I sucked up and down while I stroked his shaft, moving off now and again to lick up and down its length, it didn’t take too long for it to grow to more than I could fit in my mouth.

When it seemed like he was fully erect, I moved back to look at it. The teen’s cock was like his joint, fairly long but skinny. In fact, I estimated that it was less thick than my own cock, even if he had about an inch-and-a-half on me. But most of all, as the swelled knob twitched in the breeze, I noted how pretty it was.

Perhaps because of the break in the action, he looked down at me. “Don’t stop now, dawg!” He looked around behind him. “Actually, I think Imma sit down for this.” He shuffled back a couple steps to the bench and lowered himself onto it, his legs spread wide open.

On my knees, I shuffled forward too, so I was back face to face with his cock. He tilted his head back and took another hit from his j as once again, I lowered my lips over his cockhead and down his shaft. Working with him in a sitting position, I could take him a little deeper now, and I concentrated on bobbing my head up and down his shaft, tilting my head from side to side to let my tongue work the underside of his dick from different angles. My hands moved to the base of his tool, first rubbing the tightly-curled hair, and then holding his shaft steady as I worked on this beautiful cock.

And I worked hard. Although I was giving it everything I had, it didn’t seem like I was drawing him any closer to coming. But I was keeping him hard as a rock, and every once in a while he’d let out a moan, so I knew that he liked what I was doing. So I focused, took deep, steady breaths, and kept sucking.

It was pretty amazing. I had the vibrating feeling in my lips that made me want to keep going — sucking on this cock was making me dizzy with pleasure. But after what must have been several minutes, my jaw was getting sore and soon it was getting harder to focus on what I was doing to him.

I needed a breather. I pulled my mouth off and leaned back, letting my hands take over, jerking him off with confident, steady strokes. “Holy shit,” I said, “The chicks must love getting boned by you.”

He looked down at me. “Bitches get laid correct,” he commented, with a slightly-stoned drawl. “I c`n get up in that ass all night long.”

I decided to see if I could nudge him along a little more. “Wanna prove it?”

Not waiting for any response, I stood up and took a step back. With a quick motion, I undid my jeans and dropped them them to the ground, tugging my briefs down right after them. I spat into the palm of my right hand and then reached around and rubbed it up and down over my asshole. I poked my middle finger in a few times, then stuck it and my index finger in and worked them around quickly.

I didn’t want to lose the momentum or give him too much time to think about it, so I awkwardly shuffled, pants around my ankles, up to the bench beside him. I bent over and grabbed the backrest and stuck my ass out as much as I could. He looked over at it and I wiggled it back and forth in what I hoped was a seductive manner.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was going to take the bait, and he kept looking at my ass. Then, tossing away the last nub of the joint, one of his hands drifted down and lazily started stroking his cock, which was still fully erect. After a few seconds, he heaved himself up and wheeled around so he was behind me.

“Go up your ass, hey? Yeah,” he muttered more like that to himself as I felt the head of his cock pushing against my asshole. He was still slick from my blowjob, and despite my minimal preparation, he slid in pretty easy. He wasn’t particularly gentle about it, though, and I could feel him trying to shove his full length in with a single long push. But when he bumped up against the resistance of my inner sphincter, he pulled back and started moving in and out to that depth. I felt a surge of pleasure, and I leaned down further, letting myself relax and yield to him. When he next plunged in deeper, my rectum took him in, and soon I could feel the wiry brush of his pubic hair against my buttocks — I had taken the length of his cock.

He started fucking me. And again, he wasn’t particularly gentle about it — he was thrusting into me deep and with force from the get-go. There was a momentary sense of pain as he started while he pushed against the tightness of my asshole, but I closed my eyes and focused on steady breathing and soon there was no discomfort.

I gripped the bench in front of me with the same increasing tightness with which he grabbed my hips. And he fucked me. Sweet Jesus, he pounded me. With steady hunching jerks, drilling my asshole.

I kept my eyes closed and kept focusing on my breathing, and felt the sensations radiating from my prostate. I tried to keep my mind blank and focus on the pleasure, and after a few minutes I felt like I was in heaven, his pounding thrusts translating into a steady euphoric buzz that was in my ass, in my cock, and then in my belly and spreading through my entire body.

I have no idea how long he treated me to that metronomic pleasure jackhammer, but it must have been for more than ten minutes, and throughout it all, my body felt like a taut string, vibrating with pure sexual pleasure.

After that, he picked up the pace. No longer just behind me, I could feel his feet moving forward, twining around my ankles. And then he was bent over me, and I could feel his breath on the back of my neck while his cock was drilled into me even deeper than I thought possible. Now his thrusts seemed to me pulling his cock out of me, and I pushed back to try and recapture it.

The buzzing in my head was even more intense. And then he shocked me, as suddenly I felt his hand under me, gripping my cock. While his ragged breaths were hissing in my ear and his rough thrusts drove into me with ecstatic force, he roughly started stroking me in time.

It felt like a supernova going off in my head. It only took a handful of strokes before my cock exploded with strong bursts of semen, and my legs more of less gave out under me. I collapsed onto the bench, more or less, pulling myself free of his shaft, though the head still remained buried within me.

“Huh,” he said, taking a step back, enough that his member was drawn out of me. “Bitches get laid correct.”

He made a sort of awkward twist, and moved so that he was again seated beside me, thighs held open. And though I was still in a state of post-orgasmic bliss and could have lay there for awhile basking in the afterglow, I knew I had to finish him off.

So with no slight difficulty — my body felt unresponsive as if I were drunk — I pushed myself up and moved back in between his legs. I looked at his cock and it slowly dawned on me that it had just been in my ass. Fortunately, although there was some mucous-y fluid spread across it, there was nothing brown on his cock. Besides his beautiful brown skin. It was hard and twitching in front of my face and I went down on it. By now, his smell was almost overpowering, his earlier funkiness amped up by fresh sweat.

Just like before, I set to sucking him with everything that I had. For a couple minutes, I had as much of him as I could get in my throat, bobbing and working my tongue. As I kept it up, I was worried for a moment that I wouldn’t be able to get him off, but soon he was moaning while he breathed.

His left hand gripped the top of my head like a basketball and pushed me back. He kept a grip on me while he started jerking himself off with his right hand. I opened my mouth and held it just below the end of his cock, watching him pump himself. It didn’t take him long before he grunted, and his cock sent a jet of semen into my mouth. And then, in quick succession, two more thick bursts. Like his aroma, the taste of it was strong, almost overwhelming. I felt the complex flavor moving across my tongue as there were two more weaker jets. My mouth was full of his semen and I swallowed out of instinct, but I could still taste it.

And then I leaned forward and licked his cock clean, top to bottom. And top to bottom again for good measure. I would have kept going, but again his palm spread across my forehead and pushed me back — a little more roughly this time, and I overbalanced and ended up flopping backwards onto the grass, looking up at him.

He didn’t wait long to stand up. He pulled up his boxers and jeans and roughly tucked in his shirt. He turned to his right and spat on the ground. Then he reached down into one of his pockets and pulled out a dime bag, and tossed it down to me.

“This shit never happened,” he said, and he trudged away down the path, leaving me there, lying on the grass, pants around my ankles.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes and tried to remember the intensity of the pleasure I had been feeling only minutes ago.

Oh yes, I thought to myself, it happened.

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