Stranger on the Train

My first literary effort in non-native language. Please, have mercy, though constructive criticism is always appreciated. Story hardly has any value, but I had fun writing it and that's what counts.

*

»Oh oh oh, you HAVE to tell me all about it!«

Nina's eyes got a twinkle as she rolled over in her bed on her stomach and looked at me.

»Tell you what?«

I acted stupid even though I knew exactly what it was she wanted to hear.

»You know,« she gave me a mysterious smile.

I knew her well enough to know that inside she was bursting with curiosity. Anyone else would think she is dead cool about it. She was always very good at hiding her true feelings.

»No, I don't.«

It was a real pleasure, teasing her like that.

»If I understand you correctly, you met someone...?« she caved in, quicker than I anticipated.

»Yes,« I nodded.

Even though we haven't been in contact for more than a year, Nina and me somehow managed to stay friends. We had a history of lovers behind us, but that was over now. Still we remained intimate friends, though. Not in terms of sex (even though that had happened too – I never truly believed sex can be an act of friendship, but with her I experienced exactly that) but more in a sense that we confided in each other. We didn't tell everything to each other but in case there was something troubling one of us and couldn't tell it to anyone else, I could always tell it her or she to me. As if, in some very loose sense of the word, we were guides to each other. I think the point was that neither one of us made a moral judgment on the other, not matter what happened. It was this feeling, that you can easily open up without fear of moral judgment, that defined our relationship. It's nice to know you can let it all out to somebody and get only acceptance or, in the worst case, tolerance.

»... aaand you had something with that person...« Nina slowly continued, looking as if she is really slowly licking the most tasty ice cream in the world.

»Yeeees,« I nodded and enjoyed the game as much as she did.

»... aaaaand this person was.... a guy?«

Nina licked her lips like a cat in front of a pile of fish.

»Exactly.«

She leaned on her elbows and sank her face in her palms, without looking away. Behind she was playing with her feet in the air.

»So, you finally did it,« she said.

»Yup.«

She didn't had to say anything. Her radiating face told me she was more happy about it than me. It had been quite some time now, that occassionally she would ask me whether have I done it yet or not – i.e. go to bed with the same gender. When years ago, after a lot of hesitation and embarrasment I mentioned I would really like to try it with a guy, she wasn't as excited about it as she was today. She thought it would be interesting to do it, but that was all. Here and then, between the lines, she would ask me whether I did it yet or not. I thought, or should I say, I hoped, it was because she found sex between two guys exciting and arousing, but it turned out it was not so. Instead, she saw it as some sort of transcending of self, discovering new things and growing in person. For her, it was about shifting boundaries, refusing to get stuck in all the usual patterns of life, the patterns society has been filling us with since the moment we were born. That's why today I found her undying curiosity understandable on one hand, but also strange on the other.

»What about you? Have you done with a girl yet?«

I decided to prolongue the grilling a bit more. It was nice leading her around with a carrot. Besides, a year or two before I shyly came out with my wish, she declared, much more boldly and straightforwardly, that if she met the right girl, she would to go to bed with her. She didn't tell it to me alone. She told it to everybody who asked her that, even to those who were against gay sex.

»We are talking about you now,« she smirked.

Too bad, I thought.

»Now, stop stalling and tell me what happened,« she said, already miffed.

»What exactly would you like to know?« I just couldn't give up the game so soon.

»Everything. How you two met, how did he look like, who started flirting and how it happened. So, that would basically mean I want to know really everything.«

Her facade of complete coolness was by time as good as gone – she was all fired up.

»Where did you meet him?« she gave me a cue.

»On the train.«

»Great! It is much better that way. If you two would have met in any kind of gay area it wouldn't be as half as interesting. Guys meeting in the neutral area not knowing if the other guy is also in guys or not – not that adds a lot of spice to the whole story.«

»You are right about that and it gets even better: it was first time for him too, going to bed with another man.«

»Wow, two straight guys seducing each other on neutral ground! Come now, start talking already!«

»All right, all right, calm down now. It happened like this...«

* * *

I was just in time to get at free seat in the train. It was in the last row, at the end of the carriage. The train usually always gets full. It was the kind of station where people switch trains. I expected it to get full this time also, so I put my bag on my legs to free the other seats. But for some reason this night there weren't many people, so I was left alone. When travelling by train I always hope that some cute girl will sit diagonally in front of me. It's always fun to watch them and possibly flirt.

* * *

»Men!« Nina rolled her eyes.

* * *

No such luck this time, though. A teenager sat there. He couldn't possibly be over 20. Next to him two friends sat down and got entangled in the conversation almost immediately.

Just as I was about to look away from there I caught teenager's look. It was nothing uncommon, it happens all the time. But I was surprised by his reaction. As soon as our eyes met for a fraction of a second, he looked away as if afraid of something. It was like a movie cliche – he looked away scared and started looking into the night outside, but at the same it was obvious he is very nervous about something.

I found this reaction very unusual so I continued to watch him. He gave an impression of a person who found something very good but at the same time very forbidden. This word, forbidden, startled me. It made me think that perhaps, just perhaps, it is I who am forbidden to him.

I looked at him again and what I saw confirmed at least the first part of my theory. It wasn't just his face, it was his whole body – it was expressing a great desire for something, but at the same time there was a major battle going on within. What did he want so much? Was it really me?

I decided to play the usual game of flirting with looks. I do it often on trains, with pretty girls, of course. But never more than this: quick glances here and there, just to make sure our eyes meet. I do it often enough that she realizes sooner or later that those are not coincidences. Yes, she realizes I like her a lot. Some girls then choose to ignore me, some feel embarassed, some like it a lot and it had happened sometimes that I got an invitation to sit next to her. But, as I said earlier, I never go beyond flirting. It's a principle.

Well, this time I was going to flirt with a guy.

* * *

»How did he look like?« Nina asked.

»He was 10 to 15 cm smaller than me, he had long wavy brown hair in a ponytail, brown eyes, like a deer. He was sort of thinnish and not as much as me. He wore simple clothes – washed out jeans and some blouse which colour I don't even remember anymore. If he weren't 13 or 14 years junior to you, you would have fancied him,« I laughed.

»Sounds like my type, yes,« Nina agreed and soon added: »Go on!«

* * *

Just for the record, reaching a decision to flirt with a guy in no way implies I had any intentions of going further than that. True, it had been years since occasional fantasy involving a guy would occur on regular basis, later on I realized I do not really wish for it to happen. I didn't want a man, I wanted a another cock to play with. A thought of a nice, hard cock proudly pulsating in front of my eyes really turned me on. It certainly wasn't the thought of another man or man's body in general. In my fantazies (whenever they occured) I would dream only of a cock and not of the body which it was attached to. Only an erect penis and that's all. I was not interested in men, I was not attracted to them and I am still not. I realized that, when one day I took a walk through the city and decided to look at men in sexual way to see what type attracts me more.

Imagine my disappointment not one of the men attracted me not even a little bit. Male bodies are not sexy to me, quite contrary actually, so I stopped doing that.

* * *

»Ah, that's why it took you so many years,« Nina said.

»Yes. To tell you truth, I wasn't waiting for so long, I dropped the whole idea. I was sure noone will ever attract me so much as to go to bed with him. Not to mention a bunch of other reasons that come with it.«

»What reasons?«

»You know, he might have been straight, or he might tell anybody, you know how people can be.«

»That's true.«

* * *

Only once I met a guy next to whom I instantly felt a very very very strong desire to take off his clothes right there and then and do it with him. He was a waiter in some village pub. Very tall, thin and blonde (I always loved blonde hair) and he had some aura of softness about him. That undefineable softness was not the usual gay tenderness. I was 17 then and it struck me as a lightning from the clear sky – I was totally scared, I didn't know what was happening to me. I was so frightened that my friends who were with me at the time would notice what is going on with me so I tried to think everything away and concentrate on other things. Luckily we departed soon and I never saw that guy again.

Later I often thought about him, even fantasized what we would do together, but after a few months of confusion and fear (which were always present) I said to myself that first I need to get acquainted with all the charms of female body (I was still a virgin back then) and then I'll see how to proceed further on this matter.

As expected I enjoyed women soooo much. They were even better I dared to hope they would be. I forgot about that waited for years and years, as if I would never had met him.

* * *

»So what happened that you started to consider the idea again and when?« Nina asked.

»Remember, when we were still a couple, we read a book about female sexual fantazies and then another one about male fantazies?«

She nodded.

»Even though we read and closely analyzed every kind of fantasy for both sexes, we skipped one particular male fantasy. To this day I don't know whether you really didn't notice or did we avoid it on purpose.«

»Which fantasy was that?«

»Although homosexual fantasies had their own chapter and we discussed them, there was a certain element in more than half of all other »straight« fantasies which was quite homosexual in nature. It was so often there but every time so briefly mentioned that even author of the book didn't dedicate it a whole chapter. It was an impulse of completely straight men who in the state of utter ecstasy and arousal suddenly wished for another cock – for them.«

»Hmmm, I don't remember that.«

»I see, so you didn't notice it at all. Well, it doesn't matter. I did notice it, though, and it was then when I thought of the waiter again, after all those years. Reading that book really made it so easier on me – I realized that there is nothing wrong having such an impulse nor does it mean anything. Obviously most, if not all men, get at least one such impulse in life, except that nobody wants to admit it or talk about it.«

»Why didn't tell me all that before? Was it after that that you started to get aroused by guys again?«

»I don't know why I didn't tell you. I didn't think it was that important. I didn't start thinking regulary about it from then on. Women turned out to be too fantastic, too attractive and our relationship was still O.K. and besides, thinking about cocks didn't turn me on anymore. But those fantasies in the book were just that: only cocks and nothing more. Not being attracted to guys, those were dealt with in separate chapter. So reading that book really calmed me down – what happened to me was something most men go through.«

»O.K., tell me now what happened with the teenager on the train.«

* * *

I recognized his body language. I knew it very well. It was the same I had when I met the waiter: a desire suffocated by fear and shock.

When flirting on the night train one is encouraged to take advantage of the reflection in the window – that way you can see what the person sitting diagonally from you is doing without looking at him or her.

Teenager's eyes were boring into his window, as if trying desperately to look into the night. But I was quite sure he was looking at the reflection to check on me. I decided to start teasing him. When I was certain he is looking at me in the reflection I turned my head directly towards him and looked at him for a longer period of time. Just to let him know.

No reaction at all. Just as I started to believe that I got the whole situation wrong and actually began to look through the window I noticed in the reflection that occassionally he looked at me, for few seconds at the time.

Aha.

So we took turns looking at each other like that. He would look at me and I pretended I didn't notice and then I would look at him while he »didn't« see me doing that.

That way my goal was accomplished – I knew now he liked me a lot. This is where my little experiment should have ended. But something strange happened. As I watched him like that, either through reflection or directly, I realized his body doesn't repulse me. When I asked myself »Would I do it with him?« I didn't react in the usual way which would be »Yuck, no way!« To my suprise I found myself thinking that I wouldn't mind having a go with him. I wasn't attracted to him, there was no impulse or spart, he just didn't repulse me – and that was all.

Yeah, I could do it with him. Of course, I started to watch him more closely. The game just switched into high gear. The longer I watched the more I liked him – sexually. I decided to go further with this game of flirt on a train – for the first time so far. I wondered where is it going to lead, although I knew from my experience with the waiter, that he is too scared to do anything. He would only watch me, secretly.

That's why, when in reflection I noticed him watching me directly, I turned suddenly and looked straight into his brown eyes. Poor guy got so scared he didn't dare to look at me for half an hour. I, the bastard, kept watching him during that time, directly, knowing very well he sees me doing it in the reflection.

Then I caught his eyes again, and then again and again – the interval was getting shorter and shorter, even though he got scared every time. Then it was he who started tricking me into it. I admit I got so suprised by this it was my turn to freeze for a second. Actually I even started avoiding his gaze. Obviously I was not as courageous as I thought I was.

Because the seat next to me was empty, I dropped my bag there. My lap got free so I lifted one leg one the little shelf above the floor. I didn't do it with any purpose in mind, but it provoked quite a strange reaction in him. Suddenly he got all nervous, I mean, even more than before. He got restless as if sitting on pins and needles, as if he is going to burst any moment now. Only then I realized what I've done – in some way I put my legs apart and offered him quite a good view of my crotch, dressed as it was in the jeans. Obvioulsy his imagination already put an erect cock there, proudly standing and all – and it was too much for him. Well, I can't say it was like that for sure, but I don't know... Were I in his position I'd imagine things like that.

* * *

»Are you listening to me at all?« I asked her.

»You bet I do!«

»It's not too long and too slow? Boring perhaps?«

»No, no, it isn't. Go on, what happened then?«

* * *

We were nearing my exit station. I knew the game will be over the moment I get off the train. I had to make a quick decision – do I want it to go further or not? Do I really want it? I mean, do I really really want to do it with a man? What if it is only a fantasy, only hotter because there is an actual chance it might get true? What if it starts getting true at some point and I realize I couldn't go through with it?

So many questions, so little time. To hell with it, I thought. Let's just do it.

But how? What am I to do? It's one thing to watch somebody and quite the other to chat somebody up, especially in a train full of people. Not to mention his possible reaction – he would probably drop dead from the shock. I had to think of something discreet enough so only two of us would know and which would give him enough time to decide – and I had to think of it fast.

* * *

»And what did you do?«

* * *

I took a piece of paper from my bag and waited for him to look at me. Then I wrote an email address on it. I made sure he saw me writing it down and putting the paper on the seat next to me. Then I got off the train. Now the ball was in his field.

* * *

»And, did he wrote to you?«

»Wait, don't se impatient.«

»Now, you ARE being boring and too slow, you know! Besides, of course he has written to you otherwise you wouldn't be telling me the story today.«

* * *

He didn't write, though. At least not in the next few days. But the whole mess made me start looking at pictures and movies on the net, where two guys took care of each other. Yeah, I was definitely ready. Instead of feeling the usual repulsion at watching them I found them very sexy. It was so... forbidden and because of that it was so attractive. Because it looked unnatural it was so erotic. So kinky. It was like crossing boundaries set by society, shattering its rigid patterns. I realized these were exactly the same reasons Nina has about homosexual sex. So that is why she always softly encouraged me to do it. The point is not in the gay sex per se, but to tread that paths most people are unwilling to take.

Week later, just when I was about to get sure nothing will ever come out of it, he sent an email. He didn't wrote much only that he remembers me from the train (he also gave exact date and hour). I replied I also remember him and gave his description. Then he described me. We didn't talk about reasons for this writing nor how it came to start. We were warily circling around each other, cautiously.

I liked that. It made the whole ordeal more interesting and electrified.

Few emails letter messages started to get watered down and I got scared nothing will come of it, so I asked him to have a drink with me. I jokingly added I really mean only a drink and nothing else. If we find ourselves with nothing to talk about we can always discuss weather. It seemed important to me that I don't burden him with any kind of expectations, but actually I thought it's more about not burdening me.

He said he would love to have a drink with me, so we set a date. It was funny I was not a least bit nervous about it, when I was waiting for him at the appointed place. When he showed up, there were a few seconds of very uncomfortable silence, but the air between us crackling with electricity.

Somehow I managed to start the conversation and at the beginning we indeed talked about the weather, but then slowly turned to more personal topics. He was really younger than me: he was 19, freshman in college. He lived at his parents where he didn't have much privacy. When he said that I thought I recognized a hint. So I promptly mentioned I live alone in my flat. He sighed really heavily when he heard that. It was so ful of longing and enviousness that to me it seemed he gave me a green light.