out of my pants, and without any waste of time took the entire length into his mouth, down his throat. I thrust, it felt GOOD! As he blew me, I watched him jerk on his own cock. I wanted to touch it, and even to suck it. But most of all, I wanted it shoved up my ass. And that thought took me over the edge, and with a low grunt, I gave him the load he wanted. And he didn't miss a beat, taking it all, swallowing each part of it and milking me until I had no more to give. Then he carefully cleaned my cock, slid it back under my pants and buttoned them. Then he leaned back, his long prick in clear view. He pulled up his shirt, twisted and pinched one of his nipples, and then came all over his chest and flat stomach, thrusting his prick as if he was penetrating a cunt, or a young man's asshole I thought.

He smiled, and then wiped himself with a handkerchief he had pulled from his sport jacket pocket. "That was, well great Tory, really great!"

I just smiled and nodded. It had been great, but not as fulfilling as I had wanted. I wanted his cock in my ass. A slam announced the conductor coming into the carriage. Ron moved quickly to his seat, and I made sure I was fully buttoned up. I was. The conductor said nothing as he passed us by. I fell asleep. I awoke once or twice and saw Ron asleep as well. As the sky lightened, I knew we weren't far from Jacksonville. Ron was happy, giddy almost and he talked me into going to the dining car and eating breakfast. It was great, he ordered champagne, and made sure I had some. He was great to be with, funny, and easy to talk to. The conductor came through the car announcing our arrival in half an hour. I wished the train ride could have gone on forever.

"Look, Tory. Why not come spend a day or so with me. My wife and kids are out of town, at her mother's and won't be back for a week. I live on the beach, it will be great." He looked at me, and I told him my Aunt was supposed to pick me up. He seemed to mull it over, "okay, look, we can meet during the day, or at night." And I nodded. He gave me his number, "call me, please." He had a note of begging in his voice. I nodded again. But as I said goodbye to him, and as he begged me again to call him, I didn't think I would.

My Aunt was glad to see me, and it was great riding with her back to their house which was also on the beach. She was good-looking, a bit overweight, but with great big breasts which fired my imagination. "You'll love it here Tory, really. The neighborhood is great and the beach is a walk across the dunes from our back door. As we pulled into her driveway, I noticed the house next door. It was huge, gorgeous.

"Wow," I said, "who lives there?"

My Aunt smiled, "oh, a very famous pianist. I think they are away right now, but they are a gorgeous couple. I think his name is Ron, Ron Ragaway." And suddenly I realized I wouldn't have to make the decision to call Ron or not, I just had to