Strangers on the Train

Every car I moved to, there he was.

The train still had three more hours before it reached its destination and I would be back in the familiar arms of my lovely Andrew. He was an good, honest man, a mere three years older than I but well on his way to become one of the most respected bankers in the state. I could close my eyes and still feel his broad shoulders underneath his thick camel coat as it enveloped me and made me feel like I was home.

But still I was restless. I walked from car to car, smoothing my gloved hand over the delicate mahogany wood panels that lined the narrow walkway. It felt like silk and I did this through almost the entire way until I got to the dinner car where I had to stop. And still, my white glove remained white.

Before I even opened the door to the smoking car, I could see him through the glass window. He was already looking at me. He was a considerably older gentleman – about 55 years old – around 30 years my senior. But the gazes he had been giving me this entire trip unnerved me – excited me, made me feel anxious, a feeling that was welling up inside me since the time he accidentally touched my (bare!) hand in the dinner car the night before.

I felt uneasy but didn’t want to turn back. I stepped in the smoking car and looked around. No one I saw was smoking – neither cigars nor pipes – but rather they were relaxing in the red velvet chairs. One older woman in an ostrich feather hat was holding her granddaughter on her lap. Relaxed and dignified, she recrossed her ankles; a mass of linen petticoat and skirt rustled under her as she smiled at me and looked out the window again.

I looked up at him again and his gaze was still locked on me. I sighed to show my indifference, walked past him, took a seat and exhaled the breath I stole from him as I walked by. I hoped he didn’t notice. He walked past me and I did not turn to see where he went.

Suddenly, I felt warm breath on my bare neck. I knew it was him. We had only three hours left on this trip and I felt no reason to see what would happen. Time would surely stop him if I didn’t. I closed my eyes and let the feeling wash over me. The unfamiliar scent of a different man’s breath wafting up from behind my ears, caressing the nape of my neck, following my jawline, over my pursed lips and into my ladylike nose. Down my lungs, and into my bloodstream. I had already let this stranger inside me, the rest was just geography.

I felt like Christine Daae, unable to deny the need I had for this older stranger to touch me, tentatively yet lewdly, in a public place like this, now and no later.

He must have sensed it – perhaps it was the way my head was swaying, heavy with intoxicating arousal. He slid next to me, looked around and put his left arm around my shoulders. I looked up at him lazily and he knew he had me. He looked around and, without saying a word, placed his index finger squarely on my bodice. My nipple lay in wait a few layers of cloth below. It sprang up hard with his unfamiliar touch and he felt it! He took hold of my right gloved hand and placed it on his leg. Then he began pulling at each finger until the glove was looser and looser. One by one, he undressed each of my slender fingers, exposing the white supple flesh of my hand one centimeter at a time. And then finally off. My naked hand was exposed and laying on his leg but I could not protest, nor did I want to. What a scandal this would be if someone from my town came through at this moment!

I stared at my nude hand on his trousers and I loved the sight. He stroked my smooth hand with his older and larger hand and I felt drunk.

The woman holding her granddaughter began to snore and the stranger stood me up and walked me out. We went back to the sleeper cars where my room was. Before I knew it the door was open, then closed again, but we were inside. He lay me down on the highbacked velvet couch and knelt beside me. Still, no word was spoken as he undid the laces on my heels and let them fall to the ground. He slowly slid his hands up my legs to my knees, all the while caressing the silk stockings I wore. Above my knees and my dress went up, up, up…around my thighs until the tops of my stockings and my garters were showing. When he saw my silk panties – growing wet with my arousal – he let out a long moan and smiled at me. The older man caressed my legs more and pressed his face against my silk stockings. He sniffed the garters and I knew he could smell the scent of me, combined with a little sweat and also my stunning wetness. I lay still, not stiff, but open to whatever what was going to happen next.

His face reached my wet panties and he drew circles with his mouth and his chin around my wetness. I was self-conscious of the fact that I was still wearing yesterday’s panties but when he noticed their wear he moaned in delight again. He inhaled me, as I had inhaled him earlier in the smoking car, entraced by my scent. The bud between my legs grew stiff to reach his touch and my hips rocked against him on their own accord. I was flooding and he pulled back the crotch of my panties just in time to lap up the escaping drizzles of liquid from between my lips.

I gasped as he made love to my sweet pussy with his mouth. It was nothing I had ever experienced before. He sucked and kissed and used his lips more than merely his tongue, as if he was french kissing me instead of administering a duty. He ate me, held me close and smelled me all at once. He was loving me from the inside out. All at once I felt the rush of blood to my head and I bore down on his mouth, bucking against his face and came loudly to the symphony of his slurping and sucking sounds – the first sound I had made in his presence this entire trip. He drank up my wetness and gobbled up the pearls of cum that slid out of me. He looked up at me. His face showed wear of age, but through all of the wetness he looked like a little boy at play. I kissed him full on the mouth and I let the taste of my juice and his saliva mingle with my own.

While we kissed I undid his belt buckle and let his trousers fall to the ground. I had to touch this stranger’s hardness. I had to feel it in my naked hands…I had to have it inside me. I touched the front of my lover’s underpants and he did not disappoint me. I looked down to admire his body. His stomach, still taut from laborous work I was sure, was beginning to wrinkle just a bit and some of his hair was white. I had not seen a man of his age at this state of undress before and it caught me a little offguard. Then he spoke his first words to me. Rather he whispered them. “You are so beautiful and so young…new. I had to touch you, I had to caress your supple body, I could not help myself.” He seemed so apologetic. I silenced the stranger with another kiss and I whispered back, “Neither could I.”

The conductor rapped on my door to announce we would be pulling into Chicago in one more hour, then walked away. We hurriedly took each other’s clothes off and stood in the middle of my room naked. He looked up and down at my body and marveled at it as I ran my fingers through his salt and pepper hair. He kissed my breasts, sucked on my nipples, caressed my waist as he fell to his knees before me and worshipped my young lithe body. Once again, he kissed the vee of hair between my legs. Then, without warning, he turned me around and kissed the back of my legs. It was a feeling I had never experienced before. Up, up, and up went his kissing mouth and once again I grew self-conscious. He kissed each cheek, then pushed on my back to bend me over. He groaned again when I felt my cheeks part and he dove his face between them. Then I heard another moan, but this time it was coming from me. Now I felt him licking me hard with a probing tongue and I felt myself backing up on his eager face and spreading my legs wider. Trickles of wetness flow down my leg and this time they went unnoticed as the stranger plunged his face into my backside.

He ate me like that for a while before he said he couldn’t take it any longer. He stood up and, while I still held the stance of a giraffe drinking water, he plunged his thick hardness deep inside my aching pussy. He was an older man but his rhythm did not denote such. He slid himself deeper and deeper inside me and my fingertips scraped on the wall as I pushed back, harder and harder until my nipples were shaking and the flesh on my ass was rippling. His pace grew faster as the conductor once again announced we had a mere 15 minutes before we reached the Chicago station.

The stranger reached around me and stroked and pinched my nipples hard and drove himself deeper inside me. I felt him growing larger inside me and I knew he was close. But the closer he got the louder he was. I couldn’t have any of that, since such sounds from a lady traveling alone would be unexplanable! I looked around, saw my wet silk panties and shoved him in his mouth. At once he started sucking on them and fucking me faster. Not a few seconds went by when he drove his final long thrust into me and came deep inside, gasping for air. As he held it still, I could feel the spurts of semen splashing inside me. His body and mine crumpled slowly to the floor, slick with sweat, breath steadying and once again, no words.

Fifteen minutes later, after the stranger had gone, after I washed myself with a washcloth and gathered my hatbox and fixed my hair, and looked for my panties. They were nowhere to be found. I had no time to find a fresh pair so I got dressed as best as I could, still naked underneath my skirts.

As the train neared the station, I saw my Andrew waiting for me on the platform. He was as handsome as ever, and he smiled and waved when he saw me. I did have a pang of guilt when I saw him with that broad smile – so trusting and loving. But then I knew this he would never know about. I would push this down into my own secret locked place in my head and I would never speak of it to anyone.

When the train came to a halt, the conductor opened the gate to the platform. When I stepped down, someone held their hand out and I took it. “Here you go, Miss…be careful.” It was the stranger. And fluffed out of his coat pocket were my panties! Again, I had no words. I simply stared at him and he smiled, tipped his hat and walked away. Stunned by his nonchalantness, I watched him walk away for a few paces, then raised my glance toward my Andrew. I walked from the train slowly at first, then I rushed, into his loving arms, he unaware of my seeping nakedness underneath my dress.

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