Junction X by Erastes (best autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

Phil’s face split open with a white toothed smile, and he made a noise like a cat being sick. “They won’t even notice,” he said. “Truth be told, I’d rather be a minion again, following orders.”

The train could be heard in the distance, making the rails rattle like dice in a cup, and I turned back towards the track in Pavlovian motion. “So,” I said, as we watched the train curve around the track. “Life in the executive washroom not all it was cracked up to be?”

“Oh, it’s all right,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong. The perks are great, really great. I could even have a company car if I wanted one, but I prefer to get an early start and get some work done on the train.”

I hit him with my Times. “Oh yes, you really are the new brown-nosed boy, aren’t you?”

The train pulled up, and the doors burst open all at once like a well-used Advent calendar. Phil pushed past, entering the carriage first, like he always had. As he slipped by, he whispered, “You should know.”

My heart leapt guiltily. I had to stop myself from looking around before I stepped into the carriage and closed the door. We stowed our cases and sat down. We had the carriage to ourselves this early in the journey, but a few stops down the line, it would be so packed that there would be men hanging onto the straps in the ceiling.

Phil was still grinning abominably, his teeth looking impossibly white against the healthy tan of his face. “Eddie, don’t make that expression. No one heard me.” He threw the bowler hat up on the rack with a practised ease that I had always envied.

Phil swam through life as if it were his own personal pool, effortlessly cutting his way through business and family life, hardly raising a ripple of discontent. He had no children to disturb his peace; his wife was as even-tempered as he was and they shared a sense of humour. At work, he’d caught the attention of the higher-ups with alarming speed. In no time at all, he was the youngest member of the board. Not even the sky was going to be the limit for Phil Carter.

The strange thing, I thought as I leaned back and watched Phil smirking at me in that annoying but charming manner, was that if it had been anyone else, I would have been much more bitter. But Phil had won me over me very early on. Try as I might to be angry with him, I was only pleased for his success.

“I haven’t forgotten about the golf club,” Phil said, placing his paper on the seat next to him.

I glared at him, snapping open my own in mock irritation. “Really.”

Phil put his head on one side as if he were going to apologise. Then he raised a finger to his lips and changed seats, sitting next to me. “This visit was supposed to be my way of apologising, Eddie.” His lips were too close to my ear and I stiffened instinctively in my seat.

“Phil—don’t…”

“I’ve missed you, Eddie.” Phil’s hand moved to my lap and cupped my cock, sleeping safe and sound in pristine Y-fronts and dark blue wool. “We’ve got eight minutes before the next stop. Please.” He was unzipping his own trousers, pulling his cock from its pinstripe prison. “Please.”

I tried to resist for a hundred thousand reasons. I always put up a token resistance; it was a game we played. A game I always lost—or won. I could never decide. I shuffled along the seat, belying my own cock, which had woken like a prince on an enchanted bed, and made a conscious effort not to look at Phil—not at his hazel-gold dancing eyes, not at his wide pink lips, and certainly not at the swollen thing in his fist.

He pursued me until I was pinned in the corner.

“I said no, Phil.”

“You don’t mean that,” he said, standing, his fingers curled in my hair, his fingertips ghosting over my ear. “You never mean that. You want it. Suck me quickly, Ed. I’ve missed you.” He pulled my head towards his cock and I was lost, as I always was. I opened my mouth wide, used my tongue to gather him in and let him fuck my mouth until he came, hot and thick, his groans making me as hard for him as he’d been for me.

“Oh God,” he said, as he softened in my mouth. “Oh God, Ed. If only I could get Claire…” He collapsed next to me on the seat, his arm still around my neck, his pants and trousers around his knees.

“For Christ’s sake,” I snapped. “Do yourself up, unless you want to get us both arrested at South Holt.” As usual, I felt disgusted with myself for allowing him to swan back into my life after all this time, for allowing him to use me like this, and for loving it, for loving the taste and feel of his cock in my mouth, when all he wanted was a replacement for a wife who wouldn’t suck him off. My cock ached, wanting something I couldn’t bear to think about. I wanted more and I had no way of knowing how to get it. I only knew I wasn’t getting it from Phil.

Chapter 2

I can’t say I didn’t suspect that there was something wrong with me when Phil came into my life, but I thought it was something wrong with my marriage. Maybe I just used that as an excuse; it’s hard to look back and be sure of my feelings. When Phil arrived, I’d been married to Valerie four years, we had two children, and if our sex life wasn’t all bells and whistles, well, that wasn’t surprising after four years of marriage, was it? Sex wasn’t a subject most men I knew spoke about, but I heard enough hints