- Joined
- May 26, 2016
- Posts
- 71
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- 672
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- 118
- Location
- Wilton Manors, FL, USA
- Sexuality
- 90% Gay, 10% Straight
- Gender
- Male
A good looking 21-year-old American guy, backpacking in Europe, and newly tanned from camping in Mykonos, my thin, but athletic body was covered with young muscle. Late for the train, reading the signage quickly, I mistakenly took the train to Vicenza, instead of Venice.
The train was packed as I shoved my backpack into the upper storage. Then I slid into the only open middle seat configured as three people facing three. Sweat poured off me as I tried to compose myself.
The only thing was that the seat rows were too close together. Being 6’2” tall, my knees had to go between or around the Italian guy across from me. Not only that, but the width was so narrow, our knees were pressed together as the train jiggled and lumbered along. At first, it was just bumping against each other as the train moved along jaggedly. But wait, this man was so hot. Was it my imagination or was he intentionally touching me knee-to-knee.
Hmm. I don’t know if you have met handsome Italian men, but given any opportunity, straight or gay, they will make it sexual. This situation was no different, except I didn’t know the Italian male rules yet. The handsome dark-haired man with tight-fitting clothes over his great body starts subtlety pressing his knees against mine. I wasn’t sure it was happening at first. The people by the windows were almost asleep with their heads rested against the headrests.
So, the hot Italian man, perhaps 15 years older than me, keeps pressing his knees against me and smiling when I glance up to him. In hindsight, he was clearly enjoying toying with this young manboy. My light brown-almost blonde hair and bright blue eyes probably enticed him.
At 21, if the wind blew up my shorts, I had an urgent hardon. In fact, I was still all horned up from the hot guy I spent last night with, but that is another story. My cock started to get hard through my not very long shorts. I noticed that his tight light blue pants were bulging too.
Cool, that’s hot as fuck, but the two guys left of me were awake, and aware of this guy seducing me. And the woman and man by the windows were coming in and out of consciousness. This man is openly trying to have his way with me, in front of four other people. The situation would be scary to anyone, especially a young inexperienced guy like me. Back in the States, this would be impossible. Here, in Italy, with hundreds of years of man-on-man culture, apparently it was different.
Bump after bump, he rubbed his legs against mine. Wait, is he reclining back to reach his knees further toward my crotch? Is his enormous bulge getting bigger?
His eyes were locked on mine whenever I got the courage to look across to his. And still his knees and legs pressed against me. Bump, jiggle, sway. I felt that I could feel each muscle in his thighs. Damn, this was turning me on so much. But, what about the guys watching? I couldn’t even look their way. But they were watching, you know they were watching. The older me would have checked out their crotches too, but I was too innocent. Perhaps they were turned on too, or maybe they were pissed. Probably, this is just normal Italian life.
Back to my immediate problem which is my raging boner with my shorts barely able to cover. And the hot man focusing all his sexual energy upon me.
As he pressed his muscular legs against mine, I could see his cock growing in his pants. It twitched as it got bigger and harder.
I couldn’t deny it any longer as we locked eyes with each other. But we couldn’t reach across to each other or mutter any words. His cock grew longer trailing down the leg of his pants. Mine was already sticking upright as high as it could go in my shorts.
A few more rough turns and old bumpy tracks, my young cock could not take anymore as my load thrust through the big mushroom head of my cock. I kept cumming and shooting as my shorts got wetter and wetter. The guy across from me held his knees together crushing my thighs as he realized he had turned me on so much that I was sperming my shorts over and over.
A broad smile crossed his face as he stood to leave the train at his stop. On his way out of the aisle, he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of my seat. In his overly romantic Italian English he begged me to get off the train with him.
Looking back, I really wish I would have gone with him. As it were, I was too exhausted from the all-night sex I had the night before with a guy named Federico I met on the streets of Venice.
The train was packed as I shoved my backpack into the upper storage. Then I slid into the only open middle seat configured as three people facing three. Sweat poured off me as I tried to compose myself.
The only thing was that the seat rows were too close together. Being 6’2” tall, my knees had to go between or around the Italian guy across from me. Not only that, but the width was so narrow, our knees were pressed together as the train jiggled and lumbered along. At first, it was just bumping against each other as the train moved along jaggedly. But wait, this man was so hot. Was it my imagination or was he intentionally touching me knee-to-knee.
Hmm. I don’t know if you have met handsome Italian men, but given any opportunity, straight or gay, they will make it sexual. This situation was no different, except I didn’t know the Italian male rules yet. The handsome dark-haired man with tight-fitting clothes over his great body starts subtlety pressing his knees against mine. I wasn’t sure it was happening at first. The people by the windows were almost asleep with their heads rested against the headrests.
So, the hot Italian man, perhaps 15 years older than me, keeps pressing his knees against me and smiling when I glance up to him. In hindsight, he was clearly enjoying toying with this young manboy. My light brown-almost blonde hair and bright blue eyes probably enticed him.
At 21, if the wind blew up my shorts, I had an urgent hardon. In fact, I was still all horned up from the hot guy I spent last night with, but that is another story. My cock started to get hard through my not very long shorts. I noticed that his tight light blue pants were bulging too.
Cool, that’s hot as fuck, but the two guys left of me were awake, and aware of this guy seducing me. And the woman and man by the windows were coming in and out of consciousness. This man is openly trying to have his way with me, in front of four other people. The situation would be scary to anyone, especially a young inexperienced guy like me. Back in the States, this would be impossible. Here, in Italy, with hundreds of years of man-on-man culture, apparently it was different.
Bump after bump, he rubbed his legs against mine. Wait, is he reclining back to reach his knees further toward my crotch? Is his enormous bulge getting bigger?
His eyes were locked on mine whenever I got the courage to look across to his. And still his knees and legs pressed against me. Bump, jiggle, sway. I felt that I could feel each muscle in his thighs. Damn, this was turning me on so much. But, what about the guys watching? I couldn’t even look their way. But they were watching, you know they were watching. The older me would have checked out their crotches too, but I was too innocent. Perhaps they were turned on too, or maybe they were pissed. Probably, this is just normal Italian life.
Back to my immediate problem which is my raging boner with my shorts barely able to cover. And the hot man focusing all his sexual energy upon me.
As he pressed his muscular legs against mine, I could see his cock growing in his pants. It twitched as it got bigger and harder.
I couldn’t deny it any longer as we locked eyes with each other. But we couldn’t reach across to each other or mutter any words. His cock grew longer trailing down the leg of his pants. Mine was already sticking upright as high as it could go in my shorts.
A few more rough turns and old bumpy tracks, my young cock could not take anymore as my load thrust through the big mushroom head of my cock. I kept cumming and shooting as my shorts got wetter and wetter. The guy across from me held his knees together crushing my thighs as he realized he had turned me on so much that I was sperming my shorts over and over.
A broad smile crossed his face as he stood to leave the train at his stop. On his way out of the aisle, he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of my seat. In his overly romantic Italian English he begged me to get off the train with him.
Looking back, I really wish I would have gone with him. As it were, I was too exhausted from the all-night sex I had the night before with a guy named Federico I met on the streets of Venice.
