Ménage à trois

There was, at that time, something I wanted to retry.

I positioned myself at the farthest corner of the coach. I doubted that the train will be jampacked enough on a Saturday afternoon, but I didn't mind; I was not aggressively aiming to achieve what I had in mind. And so I stayed there, with almost nobody else standing along with me, waiting to be somebody's eager prey.

The doors opened at the Quezon Avenue station. Somebody immediately caught my attention: He wore a black, collared shirt and a pair of white shorts cut just above the knee. Although a bit stocky and dark complexioned, he looked intensely palatable in his almost six-foot stance. Very manly with a twist, I thought. He settled on a spot near mine.

More people came in at Kamuning Station. In the few seconds that passengers rushed in came a quick thought: I should make space so this guy could squeeze himself beside me. And that he did. I spent the next minute or so looking down discreetly, checking if some bulge is sticking out his pants.

The train stopped at Cubao Station. Somebody zoomed past between us, making deliberate effort to take the little space left adjacent to mine. I easily understood that he was looking for the same opportunities as I was. His eyes darted from side to side, searching, scanning, calculating.

The train moved, and so his hands. The back of his palms "accidentally" bumped onto my front. What transpired immediately after was immensely aggressive: Having felt my semi-hard tool, his hand lunged deep inside my pants, groping my dick and bringing it to hard perfection. He then unzipped my pants, took my cock out, and started stroking it up and down.\

I looked up to check how the attractive, tall guy is reacting to the action right under his nose. He seemed not to care---until I started feeling his crotch. Next thing I knew, Guy 3 has already pulled out Guy 1's dick and stroked it together with mine.

Shaw Boulevard Station. That was my pit stop, but I wanted to know how far Guy 1 was willing to play. He already tore from our group and stationed himself just a few feet away from our initial spot. I followed soon after, albeit Guy 3's disapproval, positioning myself close enough so that our skins would collide with each bump the train gives from the ride.

A few more stations, and I decided to alight at Buendia Station. I was uncertain of where this was leading, and I had no strong intentions of bringing this further. I was also running late for a dinner commitment. I stepped out of the coach the moment the doors slid open, intending to take the incoming northbound train and catch friends who might already be waiting at Shaw.

But in my peripheral vision was the tall and attractive Guy 1, who also stepped out of the train and decided to follow.

To be continued