It was Tom’s last free weekend, Monday morning and the shop would be open, then it would be working seven days a week with just Saturday, and maybe Sunday nights free as he intended to close at 6:00 instead of at 8:00, on the weekends.

So, as it had been the norm during the renovations, it was off to Kings Cross for his normal weekend break, just a few nice dinners and a couple of drinks to unwind after all the pressure of getting Tom the Grocer ready for operation.

Most, but not all, of the expected deliveries had come and he was sure that the few that remained now at 6:00 would not come before Monday, so he went upstairs to ready himself for his final weekend break.

An experienced traveler, it only took a few minutes to pack his small bag and be off. He quickly walked the 50 meters to the railway entrance for the Stanmore station, walked up the ramp, and then down the steps to the platform for trains to the city. There were many train lines but only two were for trains stopping at Stanmore, one to the city where Tom was headed and one to the inner western suburbs. Most were for the longer distance through trains which roared through regularly, without stopping.

As Tom walked down the length of the platform, there was much noise and tomfoolery as handfuls of schoolboys from Newington College were jostling each other in normal boy fashion. As he walked past a group of 4 or 5, in their summer uniform of khaki shorts instead of trousers, one rather pushy type, a real all-round sporting specimen had caused a minor commotion by just grabbing one of the other boy’s genitals and was laughing whilst the victim was seeking revenge.

Newington College was an elite school for boys, established by the Methodist church back in the 19^th century. It is a fee-paying school, for rich kids. 

Boys will be boys, as they say, rich or poor. Memories came flooding back of Tom’s own teenage years and the games that they played as well. Mutual groping was an almost all-day-everyday process that just happened, in class, in the corridors, on the bus, or when just walking along anywhere. More serious groping also sometimes happened in the showers after sport, particularly if the teacher left early and left one of the naughty boys in charge.

In the showers it was flesh against flesh with no clothing to get in the way then sometimes things got a bit more serious and the groping became mutual wanking. Things that he had not remembered for a long time, maybe that is normal when boys become men and even fathers of their own, those memories are filed away never to be re-visited or even remembered.

Tom also recalled his weekend sleepovers with close mates Matt and or James, sometimes with all three of them enjoying their games, at night, being naughty. Always sharing a bedroom at whichever home it was their turn to stay at, sometimes even sharing one large bed. 

The mutual wanking had begun in 1^st Year and continued, with a few additions, through to 5^th Year, from around 12 years of age till 16 or 17, from when they had small finger specimens until they had, with maturity, become large throbbers.  It had all been relatively innocent till the weekend that Mark’s young cousin Joey was included in the games, and it all changed. At first, Tom had been disappointed as Joey took over a position in the bed between Tom and Matt, but Joey was more precocious than any of them and, Tom could still remember the giggling boy asking him if he ‘wanted a gobble’ while squeezed in the bed between Tom and Mark. Tom had not answered but Mark had whispered ‘go on’. Only turkeys gobble but Tom was sure that he knew what Joey meant. The boys had often talked about oral sex and all were waiting for someone to do it to them, no one ever considering offering to do it themselves.

So, Joey took no answer from Tom for a yes, and then it happened.  Tom’s cock was suddenly wrapped in warmth and wetness, his body reacted with a violent twitch and a wave of trembling ran up and down from his head to his feet. He had never before experienced anything like it and his resultant orgasm was accompanied by a fireworks display with colors exploding in the sky. He came very quickly as if the dam had burst.

The following sleepover, with Joey back to his home in the country after the school holidays, was a game of cat and mouse.

“If you do it for me, I will do it for you”

“No fucking way, I am not going to suck your cock.”

“Didn’t you like it when Joey did it to you?”

“Of course, and you can do it to me if you want?”

“It has to be each way or not at all?”

“No way!”

“Come on, it feels fantastic, I tell you what, I will do it for you, just a teaser to remind you, only for a minute or two. But then you have to do it for me if you want me to continue doing it for you?’

Tom did not answer but made no attempt to stop Matt from going down in the bed and doing it. It was almost as good as when Joey did it the first time, fantastic just not sensational. Perhaps the first time would always remain the best ever. He knew he wanted it done again, and again, so he was resigned to reciprocating, so he did. The three of them loved it so much it became their main reason for getting together. One scary day they even did it in the showers at school when no one else was around.

Tom was quite horrified to now be reminded of his old teen games, all caused by watching those Newington boys groping each other. He had never fancied boys or had a crush on a boy, as they say, he had just, with his teenage hormones raging, constantly fancied sex, and that had been the only alternative at the time. He had subsequently progressed to girls, then women, and finally marriage and fatherhood. Funny though, that very first head job still remains in his memory as the best one ever, perhaps boys do it better than girls?

Tom’s memories of his naughty teenage years were halted by the arrival of his train. He boarded and sat just inside the door of the Tangara. Four stops later he alighted at Town Hall station, climbed the stairs to the concourse, and then went down the long escalator to the depths of the lower platform for his train to the Eastern Suburbs. Another two stations on the new train and he would be at his destination, Kings Cross.

Kings Cross had quite a reputation but Tom had always been comfortable there. Originally a bohemian-type village, consisting of late-night restaurants, cafes, pubs, and a mix of cheap and very expensive accommodation, it had exploded into something else as a result of the Vietnam war and thousands of American soldiers arriving from their near-death experiences for their final, very wild R & R leave with a pocketful of $US. 

There had always been discreet prostitution, but suddenly there were girls everywhere, professionals and amateurs, all willing to sleep with a ‘yank’ and have a good time, sometimes that even led to a marriage, other times just an unwanted child. The arrival of the Americans also brought hard drugs to Australia and Kings Cross. Marihuana had always been a part of the local scene but now more serious options abounded, all driven by the $US, and the servicing needs of the visiting soldiers.

With so much cash flowing freely every scam artist in creation also now walked the streets of The Cross, as it was known, these days. Tom’s early recollection of The Cross was visiting small cafes where the jukeboxes played foreign pop songs. Dream time for the Aussie youth of the day as all planned to go ‘overseas’ at some time in their life, preferably soon. A night at The Cross was almost like pretending that you were already there

When Tom stepped off the escalator at Town Hall station, a train was already there and waiting, with its doors open. He quickly boarded and as it was already very full, and he was only going two stops, just stood inside the door with his back against the wall between the seating and standing areas. He had just enough room to shove his bag on the floor between his feet. The train continued to just stand there as new passengers kept boarding the already full train. Tom watched as a smartly dressed young man skipped off the escalator, looked down the platform. Obviously thinking of going further along to less crowded areas but then decided to push his way into where Tom was standing, He squirmed his way in, and as a result, he and Tom almost rubbed noses as he did so, finishing with his body firmly against Tom’s right hip bone, the boy grinning, and nodding to Tom, as if in apology.

The warning buzzer sounded and the train’s automatic doors closed, and the train began its journey. It rocked as it entered the tunnel and began going around a tight bend, As it did so, Tom realized that the young man’s right arm was locked in between their two bodies. Worse still the back of his hand was firmly pressed against Tom’s genitals, and that pressure was starting to cause Tom to get an unwanted erection.

How embarrassing! The young man will think he is an old pervert. He hopes that he will not notice it. As the train pulls into the next station, Martin Place, maybe some passengers will get off. They did, but only from the other side and more of them boarded, so all in Tom’s section were still glued together.   

As the train recommenced its journey Tom’s horror had become complete as it was now not the back of the boy’s hand pressing against him but the front and his fingers were pressed hard against Tom’s now full erection, worse still the fingers were wriggling and there was no way Tom could escape without creating a scene by verbally abusing the boy. As the train pulled into Kings Cross station almost everyone in the crowded compartment alighted so at last Tom was able to retrieve his small bag from the floor and with it placed firmly in front of him leave the train with no one able to see his embarrassment. The boy had quickly departed and Tom believed that at least for the moment his situation was over.

The journey from the platform to the concourse was by way of two long steep escalators, the left one going up the other coming back down. As Tom stood on his step on the escalator he absent-mindedly watched those who were descending, a mix of characters who lived, worked, or had just been visiting The Cross. The 24-hour action of the area attracted all sorts, including the down and outs. First into view were a pair of mature-aged indigenous Aborigines, both poorly dressed and the worse for wear. The lady was alternately loudly berating the man and glaring at the ascending passengers such as Tom, as if to dare them to interfere or comment.

The man just stood there taking it all in without comment as if he was used to this daily tirage. A few steps behind them, was a smartly dressed young man, no doubt just having finished his shift at one of the many real estate agents in the area, behind him another young guy who was still wearing his distinctive chef’s trousers. Ten or so steps behind him was an Asian lady, in her 50’s or so, in a strange white dress that had multi-colored layers overlapping; greens, blues, orange. To cap off this Technicolor display was her vivid pink-colored hair that matched one of the layers.

At The Cross nothing was considered unusual.

Now at the top of his escalator, Tom moved to pass through the ticket barrier, still holding his bag in front, with his Opal card automatically opening the entrance gate for him. Across the concourse to another bank of escalators, that would take him up to the street level at Darlinghurst Road, and his entry to the famous Cross, and all that entailed. He was faced with three escalators this time, two going up and the other coming down. Tom chose the left-most one and only then looked up ahead. The boy from the train was standing on the central escalator and instead of facing upwards as all of the other passengers were, he was facing back down his eyes firmly on Tom who stared straight ahead not making eye contact but keeping him in focus in his peripheral vision. He had no wish for any further confrontation just wanting to escape and book into his hotel which was conveniently situated directly above the train station. 

At the top, the boy walked straight ahead but kept looking back as if willing Tom to follow him which he had no intention of doing. Tom turned left at the station entrance and noticed that the boy had crossed over to the other side of Darlinghurst Road but still kept glancing across towards Tom. He had no wish for the boy to see where he was going, so he stopped at a street-side café for an essential coffee break and to get his breath back. The boy stopped at an entrance to an upstairs place, no doubt a sex shop as it was named Pleasure Chest. The boy looked across one last time, saw no interest from Tom, he seemed to shrug and give up, ascending the stairs to who knows what? Tom had explored such places before and had a good idea of what it would contain.

Tom was surprised that the encounter on the train had quite shaken him up, he did not quite understand why he did not just laugh it off. After he finished his coffee, he walked back along the street to the Crest Hotel and went in, registered at reception, and went up to his assigned room on the 10^th floor, overlooking the city of Sydney. Needing a quick shower to refresh he did so, whereupon his erection re-surfaced but this time he got rid of it in what had become the normal way of recent years.

Now relaxed, he set off on his adventures of the night. First, a leisurely dinner. The choice at The Cross was immense, from cheap and nasties to the best of fine dining. Tom settled for one of his usual places. Maggies. The food was OK but nothing special but as a long-time regular customer the staff had become almost like family and it was always a super relaxing experience, a bit like eating at home!

He crossed the park at the El Alamein fountain, in front of the police station, and approached the restaurant, still mostly empty at this early hour. He had only just taken his seat at a small table when waiter Dave arrived with a hot bread roll in one hand and a glass of white wine in the other, obviously having seen him approach through the park opposite, and had come prepared with Tom’s usual starting order.

“Good evening Tom, how are you today?” asked Dutch Dave.

“OK Dave, but a bit shook up. Just been groped on the train.”

“Not bad, a cute girl I hope?”

“No, that is the strange part it was done by a boy!” Tom confided, knowing that nothing would shock Dave.

“Always thought that you were the other side of the fence,” replied Dave rather matter-of-factually.

“So did I, I mean I am,” answered Tom.

“It all happens at The Cross,” mused David as he returned to the bar.

The restaurant was famous for its giant-sized schnitzels, and Tom was very hungry so he ordered the Chicken Jaeger, two large slabs covered with a mushroom sauce which he was able to add at the table in order to keep the meat crisp.

After dinner Tom went for a few drinks at his usual late night bar in The Cross, Barons, an illegal drinking place the haunt of just about every night owl in Sydney. It was operated by two very police-savvy Austrians nicknamed by the regulars as Hitler and Jesus. The former being an extreme right winger, the latter a failed seminary student who had been unable to suppress his love of women and having sex with them.

To be continued...