I'm glad I decided to wear shorts this morning, only to arrive back in London to torrential downpour. Note to self: don't even contemplate wearing white shorts when travelling, especially if one chooses to eat pasta salad for lunch and travel on the underground for 30 minutes.

I politely refused my nan's offer to make me sandwiches to take with me. There's nothing worse than opening a warm leather bag, and the whiff of squashed tuna sandwiches filling the train carriage. With the seat next to me untaken, i was left to enjoy my (somewhat messy) pasta salad as i listened to my ipod and read the further adventures of Belle de Jour. Hoping the elderly gentleman sat behind me couldn't see that I was reading about cock-sucking and cum facials.

At Wakefield, a guy about the same age as myself took the next to me. He was handsome in that indie-boy, unshaven, scruffy kind of way. After about half an hour of reading his book, he fell asleep on the fold-away table. 15 minutes into his slumber, i couldn't help but notice the bulge in his jeans. We're not just talking a semi here either, this was a full-blown boner... and i was impressed.

The sight alone, and the desperation just to want to reach out and touch it, gave me a hard-on. I hastily chose to read the GNER magazine in an attempt to supress my disgusting urges, and my cock.

BF text me when i got in: are u home yet bumface? x
I replied: Yes thanks cuntstick x
BF: Meet me at Covent Garden in 40 mins. Be there or be gay. x

I'm going to Covent Garden.