As soon as I had passed through British Customs and Immigration in at the ferry terminal in Calais, heading for London, I came across a new counter which had not been there before on my previous trips across the English Channel. A large sign sign offered: Book Luggage Right Through to London. Further information placards and pamphlets explained that even foot-passengers could now check in their luggage here and pick it up at the St. Pancras Checked Luggage Office at any time after arrival in London. The service was free if you showed your train ticket from Dover to London at the Checked Luggage Office, or for just a small fee of £2 if you did not use BritRail to get to London.

What a bargain, and what a great way to free myself of the hassle of lugging my heavy backpack around on the ferry and the train. I jumped at the offer. I registered my luggage and got a receipt, and blithely strolled though the lounges to the gangplank and onto the ferry, free of my cumbersome burden.

The trip across the Channel was, for a change, literally smooth sailing. It is so often cold, wet, and choppy. Today was sublimely calm and sunny.

It was at Dover that things started to go wrong. There is always a great rush of foot passengers to get off the ferry and onto the waiting train to St Pancras. I needed to buy a ticket first, and to make sure it was on the direct run. There were alternate trains which took up to an hour longer and included having to change trains along the route.

I had just purchased my second-class ticket for the next express run, which was due to leave in just minutes, and was hurrying for the train, when the loud-speaker boomed. The railway speakers are often hard to understand because of all the noise, but this morning I heard it loud and clear: "Would ferry passenger Jacob James please report to the BritRail office by the gates to Platform 1". It's quite a jolt to hear your name announced in a foreign country, so I listened attentively for the repeat. (There is always a repeat!) Sure enough, it was my name being called. But why? and How? All sorts of imagined problems raced through my head, so I hurried to the BritRail office which was quite near at hand.

I waited impatiently to be served, imagining such things as the death of my parents in Canada – or worse, the death of my dog. The wait dragged on, and on, and I eventually heard the departure announcement for the train I hoped to catch. The next express was in nearly two hours. Eventually it was my turn in the line-up.

"Oh, yes, Mr. James," the young clerk greeted me. "I'm really sorry to tell you this, sir , but —" Here it comes, I thought. Who died?

"… unfortunately, your luggage was left behind in Calais." Not as bad as my parents or my dog, but still bad news!

"But not to worry, sir, it's quite safe, and will be placed on the next sailing of the P&O ferry, and will safely be transported to St. Pancras Checked Luggage Office on arrival. Unfortunately, because of a docking mishap in Calais, it will be about two hours behind you."

"Well, that's all very well," I grumbled, "but because of the long wait in this line just now, I missed the express to London. The next is not for over an hour.

"Yes, I see your dilemma, sir," the young man went on, "but you are in luck. This morning, in just a few minutes, there is a trial run of our newest train, another express. It is really for invited guests, but I will personally invite you, refund your existing ticket, and supply you with a new one. Does that suit you, sir?" he asked, smiling broadly. I hadn't noticed until his smile how sexily handsome he was. Made me hornier than I always am!

It suited me wonderfully – apart from the delay of my luggage arriving from Calais.

And so, a few minutes later, I boarded the newest BritRail Express as an invited guest for its inaugural run.

It was a two-class train, with the second class coaches very similar to a modern airliner, and, as I was soon to find out, the first-class coaches were divided into smaller compartments, very nattily appointed.

I automatically presumed I would be seated in second class, so that was the first carriage I entered, but the handsome young BritRail conductor who greeted me checked my boarding ticket and soon ushered me through tho the first-class sections and my designated compartment.

"Welcome aboard, sir," he told me as he ushered me in to my compartment. "I'm sure you'll enjoy your fast trip to London on our newest express. You'll find a small appreciation basket on the table." (I'd like to enjoy you on the trip, I thought.) Indeed, on the small prop-up table under the window, between the front-facing and back-facing seats was a basket and card.

Once the young hottie of a conductor (I later learned they now call themselves stewards) had left, I checked out the basket: some fruit, small servings of cheese, small packages of crackers, some sweet biscuits, and a small bottle of wine, and four plastic glasses. It was obviously meant for four people, as was the compartment, but so far, there was just me. And once the train began to move a few minutes later, I presumed that I was the only occupant! Good! I needed some space, and I hadn't had time to grab a snack for the trip. Now I had plenty!

I began to make myself comfortable as the train picked up speed. I pulled down the blind on the door to the passageway outside the compartment and locked the door. I kicked off my shoes, but my feet were killing me, so I kicked off my socks as well. I was going to be alone in here, so I decided to take my pants off as well – and then my jacket and sweater. I stowed them on the overhead rack, then settled back to enjoy my trip to London and my free snack basket in just my boxers – which were actually my white rugby shorts – and t-shirt.

As the train rushed along, secure in my own little cocoon of the locked compartment, I decided, "What the heck! It's time for a little wank!" so I pulled off my undies/shorts as well, and sat there edging myself as the train whizzed along on its way to London.

I don't have an extremmely long cock, but it does get quite thick when hard, particularly when I'm edging. Maybe this is because I've spent a lot of time with a penis pump trying to make it longer. It doesn't get longer, just fatter.

I was just taking a breather from my wank – to avoid cumming just yet – when there was a rattling at my "locked" compartment door, and before I could react it slid open to expose me and my tumescent cock to the handsome young conductor who had shown me to the compartment.

It took him just one glance to sum up what was going on here. A cheeky grin crossed his face.

"Oh, excuse me, sir!" he said amusedly. "I didn't mean to interrupt your … fun. I just came to check whether there was anything you wanted — such as a hand, perhaps?" His cheeky grin was now a broad smile.

I stopped trying to cover up my fat cock with my hands and my rugby shorts. Still somewhat embarrassed, I finally took in what he had said, and smiled back weakly: "Yes, that would be nice," I agreed lamely.

"Very good, sir," the young hottie said. "I have two more compartments to check on and then I will be right back to help you out," he promised. "That is, if you can wait a couple of minutes?"

"Yes, yes," I agreed. "I'll wait for you!"

"Wonderful!" he said, as he slid the door closed and left me alone once more. My tumescent cock was now fucking hard, so I pulled my shorts back on, just in case there was some other passenger walking by when the conductor returned. The longer he took, the harder my cock became. What was I in for? A hand-job? A blow-job?

It seemed like ages before the young guy returned. When he did, he was looking like the Cheshire Cat – all grin!

"Ready for a bit of fun, are we?" he asked, as he slid the door closed behind him and locked it. "We got the best part of a hour to play, if that's what yer want." Now he was stepping out of his official position, he was also stepping out of his private school British accent. He wasn't broad Cockney, but definitely not private school any longer. "In for a bit of slap and tickle?" he asked.

I presumed that meant sexual fun and games, and I nodded my head eagerly.

"Nope, Canadian," I informed him.

"That's even better," he told me. "Them Yanks can be a bit pushy at times. Not all of 'em, like, but some of 'em – 'specially the rich ones. Thinks they owns the bloody world." He, like me, was now just in shorts and a t-shirt.

"No one's gonna interrupt us," he informed me, "unless there's an emergency and someone pages me, so let's get down to business, shall we?" He pulled me to my feet and helped me strip off my t-shirt. He started to rip down my rugby shorts, but saw the head of my cock poking out of the waist band, and immediately sat down and took it in his mouth.

It felt so much better than my own earlier rubbing! He gobbled and sucked on the knob a bit, concentrating on the sensitive area on the underside, so that, being already well-aroused, I was afraid I would cum immediately.

"Hey, Ernie," I told him. "I'm way ahead of you, and if you keep that up you'll have a mouthful of cum."

"Right!" he said. "perhaps yer better suck me instead, if that's OK with you?" His cock was making a nice bulge in his boxer-briefs, and I was anxious to see it raw. I sat, he stood, and slipped down his undies letting his cock free. It was at that time about six inches of finest British sausage. I wasted no time in taking it into my mouth. He was already leaking pre-cum and I set up a suction rhythm a to try to get more as the train whizzed us along the tracks toward London. Occasionally, I deep-throated it without gagging.

"Wot yer goin' to London for?" he asked between moans of pleasure as I sucked and licked his lovely cock.

I stopped my mouthing long enough to tell him, "Sight-seeing and filling in time till my flight back to Toronto in a week." I went back to his cock. It was noticeably longer than it had been. Ernie was apparently one of those guys whose cock, like Pinocchio's nose, just grew and grew. I tried deep-throating him again, but gagged. Fuck! How long was this cock going to get? I choked a bit when I tried again.

"Sorry 'bout that," he commiserated. "It's a bit of a mouthful. It's about ten inches when it's full hard." I went back to concentrating on that part of his tool I could manage in my mouth and used my hand to masturbate the extra inches.

"So where yer stayin' in London?" he asked.

Again I stopped mouthing his dick to tell him, "Don't know yet. Have to find a place when I get there. Got to wait around St. Pancras for a while for my luggage to catch up with me. It got left behind in Calais." I went back to sucking, licking and trying to deep throat him again, but I knew that task was going to be impossible.

"Want to try to fuck me?" I asked. "I'd love to try and take that thing up my arse." I actually pronounced it arse as the Brits do, rather than ass as the Yanks do. I dropped my shorts and kicked them aside; Ernie took off his boxer-briefs also.

"We can give it a go," he said, doubtfully. "Not too many blokes can take it. They starts screamin' 'Take it out! Take it out!' before I'm even 'arfway in."

"What if I try sitting on it?" I suggested.

"Bloody good idea," Ernie agreed. He reclined the train seat as far as it would go – about 45 degrees – and lay back on it. His cock stood up like a flagpole. I doubted it was actually ten inches, but it was at least nine.

I searched the pockets of the jeans I had discarded earlier and found a little plastic capsule of anal lube. I never travel without at least one. I tore off one corner, took a few drops and applied them to my ass and handed the capsule to Ernie. He rubbed a few drops on his long cock, which seemed to leap to life. Maybe it was now ten inches? I straddled his legs, back to him, and carefully lowered myself down onto his waiting cock. It might have been a long cock, but it was not a particularly thick one, and the head was fairly small. It entered me very easily, and as I lowered myself, I felt it slipping easily up into my insides.

Slowly I slid down. Deeper and deeper into me Ernie's long cock went. At times it would meet a seeming obstacle, but if I lifted a little and then settled down again, it would find a new path and progress a little further as my intestines straightened to accommodate the invasion. Slowly like this it was not the least painful; in fact, it was most pleasant feeling it moving into me. It was not long before I was sitting right down on him.

"This feels fuckin' great, mate!" Ernie exclaimed. "I don't get to deep fuck a guy very offen. I could go for this every fuckin' day!"

He put his hands under my arms and indicated he wanted to stand, so carefully I lowered my feet to the ground and moved a little forward into the space between the seats. Very carefully we both straightened up, his cock still impaling me. We were like Siamese twins, struggling to work together. I didn't want to lose the feel of is cock so deep, deep inside me. But Ernie needed to own his fucking. He didn't want to rely on me moving on him.

He pushed on my shoulders and I bent forward, bracing myself against the window. What a sight for someone standing a on any railway platform we might flash through — two naked guys fucking their brains out!

Bent over, I gave Ernie easy access to my hole and full freedom to pound his long dick in and out of me. He set to work to pump me hard, driving deep into me, withdrawing, and driving in again. It was fantastic! He hadn't even cum yet, and I was already hoping he could fuck me again.

Ernie began to speed up the pace. My hole felt like it was getting hotter and hotter. From his breathing, I could tell he was about to come. And then I felt the spasms. His cock was shooting loads and loads of hot sperm way way inside my bowels. I always love it when a guy cums inside me, and Ernie was no exception. He seemed to go on cumming forever.

At last he was finished, and we both collapsed onto the seats. He stood again and rummaged in his jacket on the rack. He handed me a handkerchief. "You might wanta wipe up with this," he said. "If you leak out on the seats, I gotta clean it up."

"That was great," I told him. "I could take your cock again any day."

"Well, maybe you can," he said. "You said you dunno where yer gonna stay. Maybe we're both in luck. I start me two week holidays at the end of this run. I got a flat over in Acton. There's room for both of us, if yer don't min' sharin' a bed. And I can show yer aroun' London a bit – when we're not fuckin', that is." He grinned even wider than before.

"Well, that's really nice of you to offer. I've got nowhere else in mind, so I'd be glad to take you up on it. Accommodation and sex thrown in! That's a real bargain. I'm sure I can help you out with a bit of rent money or food money, too," I offered.

"One thing yer can do right now," Ernie smiled, "is give my arse a taste of yer nice cock. I ain't been fucked in ages."

I was quite happy to oblige him, but I could feel his massive load of cum moving down my inner tracts.

"I've go to get rid of this cum inside me first," I told him. "Might be a mess, otherwise."

"Sure," he replied."Just pull on yer T and yer shorts. There's a loo at either end of the car. No-one will see yer." I did as he suggested, carefully unlocked the door, slid it open, slipped out into the corridor, and closed the door behind me again. I made a quick dash to the closest toilet. Luckily, it was vacant. I got rid of my burden, then hurried back to Ernie.

Safely locked inside the compartment again, I set to work to give Ernie what he wanted. My cock was limp by now, but Ernie knew how to fix that. He sat in the seat beside me and bent down and mouthed and sucked my cock until it rose to the occasion once more.

My cock did not measure up to Ernie's nine or ten inches, but it was a respectable eight inches, and was soon standing straight up.

"I'm gonna sit on it," he told me. He first stood on the seat, straddling me, his cock practically poking my eye out. Even soft it was still fairly big. He grasped the luggage rack above us and started to lower himself down.

"Don't you want some lube?" I asked him, looking round for the plastic capsule.

"Not to worry, mate. I already looked after that while you was in the loo!" he informed me. He continued to lower himself, and as soon as my cock-head touched his asshole I knew what he meant. He had liberally lubed up his hole with the remaining contents of the anal lube capsule. He continued to lower himself, and in a quick thrust downwards, he impaled himself on my cock. I felt myself travel up into his warm bowels, his tight anal rings clasping round me.

He used the overhead rack rather like monkey-bars to bounce up and down on my rigid crowbar. He was going rather rapidly and I suggested he slow down and make it last.

"Can't, mate. We're gettin' close to St. P now. I've gotta finish up, get dressed, and get ready to say goodbye to me passengers. That's how I gets me tips, and a special run like this, they should be good ones," he told me. He had no sooner finished telling me this than an announcement came over the train's speaker system:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, in approximately ten minutes we will be arriving at London's St Pancras Station. We hope you have enjoyed our newest addition to the fleet. Please make sure you collect you belongings from the overhead racks. Thank you."

Almost exactly as the announcement finished, so did I, and squirted my cum up into Ernie's bottom. When I had done, he dismounted and quickly dressed.

"I got a few fings to do after we arrive. I'll meet yer at Checked Luggage in about 'arf an hour, and we can get somefing to eat here then take the bus to my place," he told me. "I can tell we're gonna have a lot of fun while you're wiv me. See you in a few ticks!" And he was off to do his duty.

When I left the train and headed to the exit gate, there was Ernie, saying goodbye to his passengers. Most of them pressed money into his palm as they said their goodbyes. When it was my turn, I proffered a five-pound note, but Ernie brushed it aside.

"Nah," he said. "Keep it. You can give me yer real tip later tonight! See you at Checked Luggage in about twenty-five."

How did you like my story? Submit a rating then leave your comments below the results: