Morning Tram

There was a gorgeous dark-skinned boy, on the tram this morning, in a blue suit that fitted him so well. He was standing right next to me sitting. I loved those tell-tale darts in his pants, the ones that came in from all corners; up from the legs, down from the hips, finishing at the bump pushing out his fly. I could have taken it in my mouth, by leaning forward just a little.

I looked up at him. He was looking at me. He looked away.

I looked out the window and then looked back at him. Our eyes met. He smiled. I looked back out the window.

I could see him out of the corner of my eye, look down at the front of his pants, rolling his pelvis forward, subtly, as he looked down. Then he looked out the window on the other side of the tram.