I worked for a telecommunications company in their support division. It was a hectic job and could be somewhat frustrating at times, but the pay was good. One of the positive aspects of my job that I particularly liked was that being one of those people who hated getting up early, my shift was from eleven a.m. until eight p.m. I took the train to and from work daily and lived twenty stations away from the office where I was employed. My apartment was conveniently located close to my station, which also happened to be the ultimate destination on the line I travelled.
Being a creature of habit, I always entered the train in the last carriage. Although it was the carriage furthest away from entry or exit points, the two reasons I did so were that firstly, most people are lazy and always rush for the nearest carriage, and secondly, not being lazy to walk the extra bit I always found a seat on the train.
One evening, after stopping at the third station on my way home, a good looking guy moved through the carriage approaching my direction and sat opposite me. He was wearing a tracksuit and appeared to be very well built. He had a handsome square face with short dark blond hair and blue eyes. I presumptuously concluded that he was of Eastern European extraction. For the duration of our journey, we constantly exchanged glances before he alighted at the penultimate station.
Once the train started moving off, he gave me a lovely smile as we passed by him on the platform.
The following evening, the same scenario played itself out. Once he was seated he smiled and said, “Looks like you and I have the same philosophy”.
Then, observing my frown he explained, “Sitting in the last carriage.”
I nodded comprehendingly as the penny dropped.
“I’m Boris,” he said, finally introducing himself.
“I’m Eric,” I replied before we began to chat. After a very brief history about myself at his request, he told me that his parents were originally from Ukraine and that he worked at a gym as a biokineticist.
‘Bingo’ I thought, very impressed by my powers of deduction.
Not long after, Boris got off at his station. He was a very sexy guy and above all else, had the most beautiful hands I had seen in a very long time.
The next night I did not see him, but the following evening I was in luck once more.
For the next several journeys we continued our nocturnal acquaintanceship. Although our chats never got to a very personal level, from the escalating sensuality of his eye contact I got the impression that he was gay.
One night, when he failed to alight from the train at his usual destination, I looked at him with a puzzled expression before stating that he had missed his station, he simply shrugged.
When we arrived at my station he exited the train with me and said, “Well… because you are responsible for me missing my station, I suppose you owe me a cup of coffee.”
I simply laughed before asking, “Have you eaten?”
“No… but you really don’t need to feed me as well,” he replied with a smile.
“Well, I have to eat… and I feel like pizza tonight. B’sides, there’s a ‘buy one, get one free’ deal at my local pizza joint. Are you in?” I playfully inquired.
“Sure… sounds good to me,” he countered.
Once in my apartment, we were soon enjoying our meal with a glass of wine.
Once we had consumed our meal I asked him about the specifics of his occupation.
“Instead of telling you, why don’t I rather give you a demonstration,” he suggested.
A tinge of excitement pulsed through my veins as I glanced at his fine-looking hands. Then, after another glass of wine, he got up and suggested we move through to my bedroom.
When he removed his tracksuit top I got a good look at Boris’ muscular arms. In a nonchalant way, he then told me to strip and get on my bed.
“Naked?” I asked, somewhat aghast.
“Well… you can leave your underpants on if you’re shy,” he answered with a challenging smile.