I was off to Florida, away from the dreary streets of Manhattan. My Aunt lived in Florida and my parents had agreed that as I had just turned 18, I could go visit her for the Winter Break. I thought I would fly, but my parents suggested I take the Silver Meteor to Jacksonville and my Aunt could meet me there. "You'll see a lot more of the Country than if you were just flying over it." Actually, the thought of a train ride was great. This wouldn't be like the subways I took each day, but a real true to life train, with dining cars and all the trimmings. I agreed and my parents bought me a ticket.

The train left in the evening, around 9:30 p.m. and would arrive in Jacksonville the following morning. I kissed my parents good-bye at the train station and with the help of a conductor, found my seat. It was a great seat, wide, comfortable and next to the window. After my parents had left, I quickly slipped off the train and went to a magazine stand. I bought three porn mags, two of hetero and, with a blush, one of men on men, or I should say young guys with young guys. I then bought a newspaper. I hid them in my briefcase and boarded the train five minutes before it pulled out.

I loved riding the train, watching NYC go by, and then moving into the suburbs. My parents had been right, this was the way to go when you had the time, and I had plenty of time. After awhile, other passengers began to turn off their lights. I was amazed that I had the whole row to myself when, suddenly, a man in his late forties sat down in the aisle seat. He was slim, with silver hair and a thin, good-looking face. I noticed his hands, which were very well manicured and had long, thin, fingers. They looked like a pianist's hands. He was very well dressed, immaculate in a white shirt, blue pants, blue blazer and a beautiful red tie. He smiled at me, "do you mind?" he asked and I shook my head. What the heck, I knew I could look at my mags inside the newspaper I had bought and that I could keep a blanket over my lap to hide the erection I knew I was going to get. Just thinking about the mags made my cock feel full, ready. I loved jerking off, and loved jerking off in strange places even more. I realized that I wouldn't be able to masturbate in my seat with the man there, but knew that the bathroom was available.

He talked for awhile, asking me where I was going, what school I went to, just chit chat. He told me that he was, in fact, a pianist for a small symphony in the city. "I like it," he had enthused, "I've been in the big symphonies before and there are just too much politics." Finally, our conversation ebbed. I wanted it to end so I could get out my newspaper, and the porno mags I had bought. Ron, for that was his name, finally wound down, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. I opened my briefcase, slid a hetero mag out, and put it in the newspaper. Then, with the newspaper as cover, began to peruse its contents. I was befuddled by my sexuality. I was jealous of those who said "I have always been gay, since birth," or