Most of the passengers on the train out of the city are in the peculiar trance state that often afflicts commuters; they have performed this routine so many times that they exist in a blur of action that renders each day indistinguishable from the next. They sleep or read books or stare out the window at nothing in particular.
It is a soft sound that rouses one of the passengers, makes her look up from the back of the seat in front of her, where her eyes had been glued. Startled, she looks to her right, to find herself face-to-face with a pair of entwined bodies.
Across the aisle sit two men, wrapped around each other. The slightly larger man, light-haired, with a small goatee, is seated at the very edge of the brown leather bench. On his lap is a smaller man with short brown hair and a white T-shirt—all the woman can see of him, as his face his buried against the other man’s neck—with his legs encircling the other man’s waist. From her vantage point, the woman has just enough of an angle to see that the brown-haired man’s jeans have been pulled down and forward slightly, exposing just enough of his naked butt to accommodate the penis of the other man, which sticks into him from the open fly of the larger man’s khaki pants.
The woman stares in astonishment as the man on the bottom rocks his hips upwards, thrusting shallowly into the body above him. The man on top is obviously trying desperately to stay quiet, but every once in a while his breath escapes as a huff when his lover gives a particularly forceful thrust. This was the sound the woman heard.
Outraged and unsettled, the woman stands and goes looking for an attendant. The couple pays her no heed, but the men clutch each other tighter as the thrusts continue. The fingers of the larger man are twined together behind his lover’s back, holding the slim body tightly against him.
Other passengers are beginning to notice them now, and the man in the seat in front of them turns around and stares. He has a perfect view of the penetration, can clearly see how widely the anus of the cleaved body stretches to fit the girth of the other man’s cock. He can see the inch or two of skin that disappears and reappears, disappears and reappears as it slides in and out of the smaller man’s body. The passenger licks his lips as he watches, trying to work up the nerve to say something, but he can only stare transfixed at the steady rhythm of their lovemaking.
The man in the seat behind the couple has noticed them now too. He had only looked up from his book for a second, distracted by the same soft sound as the woman had been. He cannot see the penetration, but he sees the face of the smaller man over the larger man’s shoulder, and can guess by the twisted and clenched expression what is happening. The passenger stands and leans forward, over the larger man’s other shoulder, and looks down, confirming his suspicions. He can’t seem to bring himself to sit back down, though the rocking motion of the train sways him. From his vantage point his view is of the cleft in the smaller man’s buttocks, as seen from above, and the tiniest bit of skin from the other man’s cock, a small fraction that moves continuously.
The man in the seat behind the couple is soon hard. He contemplates moving around the bench into the same aisle as the couple, turning the smaller man around on his lover’s cock and bending him down, forcing his penis into the smaller man’s mouth and making him service them both at the same time. Such a thing would be totally audacious, but would it be more audacious than having sex in public, as the two are currently doing anyway?
But though the thought is tempting, and fuels his erection to painful heights, the man is too uncertain to do anything. Instead he simply remains standing, gaze transfixed, and entertains his own fantasies.
Finally the woman returns with a ticket collector, a harried-looking man who follows her to the couple’s seat and stands awkwardly at the aisle’s entrance. The ticket collector clears his throat, not sure what else to do, but the couple ignores him, their motion becoming, if anything, more frantic. The ticket collector swallows as he watches the seated man plunge his cock up into the other body. The smaller man’s voice is becoming less controlled now, and the huffs of breath escape with little whimpers accompanying them. The four spectators hear the soft whisper of, “Oh God, Jason, harder,” that goes into the larger man’s ear.
The thrusts speed up, become harder, faster, as the growing crowd watches. More and more passengers, curious about the commotion, join the circle around the couple, stopping and staring when they see the fuss. Many of them are silently aroused, but all watch in either pleasure or horror; neither sensation will allow them to leave. The passengers sway as the train rocks, and most grip whatever surface is closest, holding on tighter than strictly necessary.
The whimpers aren’t even being stifled any more, and the soft, high moans come forth at the same quick tempo as the thrusts go in. They speed up as the thrusts speed up, coming faster and faster now, growing incrementally louder as well, especially when the larger man moves his hands down to grab his lover’s buttocks, pulling them apart and holding them firmly so he can get more leverage, thrusting deeper and harder than before.
The man in the seat behind them is going slowly mad, and plucks up what courage he can muster. Slowly, trying to appear nonchalant, he slides his hand across the back of the seat, behind the larger man’s shoulders, towards the head of the smaller man. When he gets there he takes a deep breath and reaches up, sticking the three middle fingers of his hand into the man’s mouth. The smaller man moans in ecstasy and closes his mouth around them, sucking on them sharply, laving them with his tongue. His eyes squeeze shut in bliss, and the owner of the fingers groans at the sight.
At the smaller man’s moan, his lover speeds up even further, plunging into him now faster than the rocking motion of the train, faster than the quickened breathing of their audience, faster than ever, more and more, rocking into him, pleasuring him, until suddenly the entire crowd of people rock forward as the train puts on the breaks, pulling into the next station, and the larger man gives a mighty thrust upward, stilling as he comes inside his lover, and the smaller man gives a cry of release, the fingers falling from his mouth, and the entire audience collectively exhales.
The train comes to a final halt, and the loudspeaker announces, “Springfield, Four Corners.” The smaller man stands shakily, supported by his lover, and both arrange and fasten their pants. There is a wide, wet stain on the front of the smaller man’s jeans, and soon a matching stain on the back. The larger man slings an arm around his shoulders and leads the way through the still stunned audience. Together, they step off the train in silence. Over a dozen heads turn to watch them go.