Riding on Tickets

Sean's Ride

I always wanted to see Abe Lincoln's bloody pillow. I loved trains. I found this Silver for Younger website. An 85-year-old retiree decided to fly down to Savannah and ride back with me. I paced the blue carpet watching incoming jets through the glass. Greg wore a bright pink shirt and a red hat. I greeted him. He was with Chris, his friend, a big beer belly old guy. We drank Guinness in the Irish airport restaurant and headed to Amtrak. I guess the three of us were sharing a bedroom sleeper. The young black porter, handsome and polite, smiled throughout the corridors and showed us our room and the dining car.

We started rolling around six PM EST. I took a shower and shaved my entire body. This twenty-five-year-old bubble butt looked like sanded down almonds under the long bulbs in the ceiling. I dressed for dinner, black button down, red corduroys, sockless, with gold boat shoes. My fresh crew cut, light brown and damp, bangs combed to the right. Where can I take a hit of herb?

We ate steak and discussed things. They were retired and I was a college dropout, a retail cashier at a craft store. All we knew from the website was that I was a bottom and Greg was a top who liked fem crossdressers. I had on a silk red thong. The steak dripped juice and I had to chew it and suck it like a cock.

"Greg tells me you are into Abe Lincoln," Chris said.

"I read a book on him and loved it. I loved how he battled depression and cried when he recited poetry," I said. "How do you know Greg?"

"We grew up together. Both Maryland natives," Chris said. "He didn't want to fly alone, either."

"Sean wants to go sightseeing in D.C.," Greg said. "All the old political stuff."

"How much do I owe you for the sleeper?" I said. "I want to pay my share on it."

"Don't bother about that stuff," Greg said. "We have you covered."

After strawberry shortcakes we all went back to the bedroom sleeper. Chris pulled his fat belly on the top bunk. Greg perched himself on the chair and I took the bottom bunk. I unfolded my Washington D.C. map. I followed a line from the Capital building to the White House and saw the silhouette of a cock. I dropped down the map to see Greg's seven inch¬— cut— cock staring at my nose.

Joseph the Porter

The young man was handsome but didn't seem all that comfortable with the two old birds. I decided to check on them after dinner. It seemed rather quiet with my ear to the door. I opened it a crack.

The young man had his palm on the window. I could see his head bobbing in front of the Carolina forests blurring outside. I opened further to see the naked fat man sliding his boner into his mouth. I am surprised the slurping sound didn't come through the door. I pushed further to see the other man with his large ass bouncing and thrusting back and forth. Both older men seemed to be rather pleased with his smooth ass.

The fat man screamed, and the young man's mouth had his white stuff spilling out the corners. The train knocked all of us off balance and with the new angle, I could see this older man's cock sliding deep between some beautiful white ass buns. They wobbled in the pink clouds.

"You by giving up this pussy so early just bought yourself a ticket to Sunday's Redskins game Sean!" the old man said.

"He doesn't give a fuck about no football game you old birds," I said.

"You like watching?" the old man said. "Watch this."

The old man groaned louder than the train's horn and backed out his cock. It spilled white syrup all over the young man's bubble butt. The come splattered and ran down his thighs. The train shook and so did the young man's perked-up ass.

"Was it all worth it my young friend?" I said.

The young man covered in dripping seamen stood erected, naked as a Jay bird. "I am going to see Washington D.C.!"