Training

There is something special about undertaking a long-distance train trip where passengers are allocated sleeping berths. The word whimsical springs to mind because a lot of the actions are indeed prompted on a whim. Is it the special smells and aromas coming from the galley coach where meals are prepared? Is it the smell of the wooden cladding used to decorate the interiors of the coaches or is it that all-too-familiar-smell of the disinfectants used to clean the coaches and ablution facilities? Every train has its own familiar brand of aromas, smells, and sounds that blended together are powerful enough to provoke whimsical behavior something I regularly fell prey to on all or some of the many long-distance trips I undertook years ago.
I was excited about taking the five hundred mile trip alone for a change and in my typical coquettish style selected the most fetching clothing to wear, especially the lingerie collection that featured my favorite ‘CK’ and ‘Sloggi’ thongs and tangas. I made one hundred percent sure that I was ready and prepared should there be any eligible bachelors aboard. Because of my intimate knowledge of the trains and their configurations, I had booked a single sleeper coach that was close to the WC and showers so that I didn’t have to walk a vast distance from the facilities to my sleeper.

As was my habit, I always conduct a reconnaissance of the train to check the talent out and after boarding, it was no different. I made my way along the crowded corridor to the diner/saloon bar paying special attention to the occupants. There was no rush as I had deposited my suitcase in my cabin before commencing the ‘recce’. I sashayed down the central aisle between the dining tables and noticed a good-looking young guy sitting alone at the bar. All the way as I approached him, I could feel his eyes burning into my body as he took in every aspect of my form. Looks such as those, seldom fail to get my juices flowing and by the time I was next to him, I could feel how wet my thong was. While I was introducing myself, the shrill screech of the train manager’s whistle informed everyone that the train was about to depart. I braced myself against the bar counter in anticipation of the gentle lurch I was expecting.

I noted that he was not wearing a wedding band (not that it made any difference when I was in cock hunting mode). ‘I’m Miranda.’ I said in a sultry lust-infused voice as I extended my hand in greeting. ‘Chris.’ He replied and the timbre of his voice immediately caused my grossly underutilized pussy to quiver. We continued to exchange small talk for a while as we got to know each other better. ‘You married?’ he asked casually. ‘No.’ I lied simply because I really fancied this guy and didn’t want something that trivial to ruin my prospects of a conquest. Because he had his legs extended in front of him, I stepped over them so that I was virtually straddling them with mine. By the end of our conversation, I had established that he was married but that his wife enjoyed and encouraged interaction with other females. We set a time for pre-dinner drinks even though he had not yet offered to buy me a drink, something that didn’t really sit well with me. After all, I was thirsty in more ways than one.

There is little more comforting than the gentle swaying of the carriage and the clickety-clack of the wheels on the track as the train cleaves a path through the darkness of night. As I sat replaying the conversation I had with Chris, I have to admit to giving my hairy gap a little bit of manual stimulation.
Sitting alone in my cabin, a million questions bombarded my thoughts; was he a good lover? Did he kiss well? (Something that is very important for me). He certainly had very kissable lips, generous and soft-looking with a delightful little Cupid’s bow on the upper lip. How well did he know the female sexual anatomy? Did he climax fast or slowly? The answers to all of these questions only served to make me more aroused as I allowed myself to be carried away on a veritable wave of raw lust. After treating myself to a quick self-induced orgasm, I fell asleep and awoke with a start when I realized that I had but ten minutes to get showered, freshened up and dressed for my ‘date’.
After a quick shower, I sneaked my way back to my cabin, encountering at least half a dozen fellow-passengers on their respective ways to the dining car. I selected my best denim mini skirt which was appropriately short and ran no risk of me being categorized as a ‘dockyard Dorris’. My semi-translucent top was such that Chris would easily be able to see my dark nipples erect themselves if that happened. I daubed two spots of my favorite perfume behind my ears and on my wrists so as to be subtly alluring and not offensive.

Being the punctilious person I am, I made sure to arrive at the dining saloon at exactly the time we agreed upon. As I made my way down the aisle toward the table, I could feel Chris’s eyes examining my body. He was already seated and had gone ahead to order a bottle of wine with our meal. He smiled warmly and stood up from his seat when I arrived, something I really appreciated; good old-fashioned manners were always a good start to a date. He was dressed in neat Pierre Cardin dark navy blazer and accompanying beige slacks. In addition, he was wearing a white, cotton mandarin collar shirt and he really did cut a dashing picture. ‘You look gorgeous Miranda!’ he complimented me in his deep baritone voice that once again set my heart aflutter when I heard it. I slid in to the table opposite him and very carefully adjusted my legs so that they were on either side of his with just a minimum of contact as the carriage swayed to and fro. ‘I took the liberty of ordering a rather delightful white wine (chilled) as I assumed that you are a wine drinker.’ He explained as I perused the comprehensive but simple menu. Because I love fish and grilled sole featured on the menu, I ordered it after deciding to skip the soup of the day.
‘Wise choice! I ordered the same.’ He commented as he allowed his right hand to rest on top of mine. I enjoyed the contact as it made the atmosphere just that much more intimate. I certainly did not remove my hand and when he raked his well-manicured fingernails lightly over the back of my hand, I felt his leg pushing against mine. The waiter, who had been hovering discreetly stepped up to the table and took my order as he filled our wine glasses after Chris had been asked if the temperature was satisfactory. The Sauvignon Blanc was absolutely perfect and the zesty, slightly peachy favor certainly suited my palate.

‘Chris, I’m interested that your wife encourages interaction with other females. Does that mean she condones you playing the field as it were?’ I probed out of curiosity about what seemed to be a strange relationship. My question prompted him to squeeze my hand he was covering and simultaneously to push his leg harder against mine. I watched his face intently for clues that he was telling the truth and without altering his expression at all, after a brief pause he replied openly; “Miranda, it’s a long story but I’ll provide you with the detail at the risk of boring you!’ I was all ears because I had heard some fiercely contrived stories from married men in my life and I knew a lie when it was spoken.
Beneath the table, I shifted my other leg so that his leg was held captive between mine. ‘For a long time, Sue my wife has known that she is not able to satisfy my libido and I was supremely surprised when she actually suggested that I take a surrogate lover to keep me happy. The only proviso was that I tell her about any interaction I might have. She knows that I prefer mature, sophisticated ladies and will not go with any ‘tramp’ just to satisfy my lust. The second part of the proviso is that I get to sleep with whoever it is just once and then all contact ceases. That minimizes the risk of a full-blown, marriage-threatening affair developing. To date, I have only used this arrangement six times and Sue has unrestricted access to my mobile phone and emails as I gave her all of the passwords and my ISP addresses. She checks these on an ongoing basis so we have developed a weird brand of trust over the years.’ This whole arrangement sounded so plausible that I indicated my approval by rubbing his leg gently between mine. The sole had arrived and Chris regaled me with the details of his marital arrangement between mouthfuls of deliciously prepared fish. The whole time he spoke, he fixed my eyes with a deep stare from his inky-blue eyes. His body language certainly told me that he wasn’t lying or trying to conceal anything.

We both ordered the rather tasty-looking chateaubriand steak and while that was being prepared, we continued our chatter. With the white wine finished, Chris ordered a rich Merlot wine to accompany the steak. As soon as the waiter disappeared with our order, I felt Chris’s stockinged foot starting to explore the naked flesh of my inner legs (I seldom if ever wore stockings or pantyhose) as that would have contradicted my choice to generally go pantyless.

By the time our main course arrived, his foot had reached that most sensitive and erotic area of my upper thighs and I was quite happy to experience the feel of his toes exploring that erogenous zone. So satisfied was I that I very surreptitiously moved forward on my seat to allow his toes to make contact with the little pubic tuft I had so carefully nurtured over the years. The glazed look on my eyes and the fact that my mouth was agape must have told him that he was in the correct zone and he hardly flinched when I reached under the table and very delicately removed the sock from his foot, allowing it to feel the luxurious, hairy growth in my pubic region. As soon as he felt it, he too slid forward on his seat so that the fortunate digit could push up against the wet, pouting vaginal lips.
I sighed with delight as he continued to stimulate the area, causing me to take repeated gulps of the deliciously full-bodied red wine. As he pushed deeper and explored more, I recall thinking that if he made contact with my engorged clitoris, I would climax right there at the table!

This man had quietly demonstrated to me that his knowledge of the female sexual anatomy was unquestionable. He knew exactly what he was doing and his gaze had shifted from my eyes to my nipples that were painfully erect and just begging for attention. ‘You like that, don’t you?’ he questioned with a very sensual smirk on his lips. Every movement of the train brought with it more and more pleasure for my nether regions and by the time the waiter had cleared our plates, I was just nanoseconds away from a massive climax. ‘I’m so close!’ I whispered hoarsely as our coffee was poured by the waiter who thankfully was blissfully unaware of what was taking place beneath the table. My seat was absolutely soaked with my arousal juices and I guessed that my short denim skirt was too.

‘Bet you wish you could get to those?’ he asked lustily, indicating my nipples with his eyes. ‘Why don’t you take one out for me to see?’ he continued as he pushed his toe deeper into my wet entrance. For the fun of it, I decided to comply with his request, and surreptitiously began to unbutton the top buttons of my blouse. Because I was braless, it facilitated what I did next; I pushed the blouse aside and pulled the breast out so that he could see the results of his rather nifty toe-work. The nipple was absolutely huge and pulsing hard, almost like a little penis. ‘Oh God!’ he exclaimed as his toe made contact with my equally engorged clitoris. My orgasm was almost instant but thankfully hidden by the darkness as the train rushed into a tunnel. Any noises we may have made were also hidden by the shrill sound of train’s whistle as it entered a tunnel My nails bit deep into the flesh of his hand and that extra little bit of pain must have brought him to climax too because when the train emerged from the tunnel Chris was almost lying flat in his seat with a very strange look on his face.

‘Did you too?’ I asked just a little brazenly. ‘First for me, ever!’ I added as he began to get out of his seat. ‘Me too!’ he replied as he patted the very dark, damp mark on his beige trousers. Chris walked with me to my cabin and ever the gentleman unlocked and slid the door open for me to enter. ‘Please, I just want see what I have missed.’ I almost begged as my fingers fumbled with the zipper of his slacks. The sight that greeted my eyes will forever remain etched on my memory; he was the owner of one of the most gorgeous circumcised cocks I have ever seen. As it hung there in its full glory, coated with delicious semen, I bent down and gave it a long, lingering kiss. I wonder if he ever told Sue about our somewhat different little tryst on the train?