Intimacy In The Age Of Steam Pt 04

And what, indeed, did the gentlemen say that evening in the compartment as the train drew out of her station and Zephyrine disappeared from view? Certainly, quite a lot about her. How exciting it had all been. How soft was her hand. And, of course, that she must do all that again!

"Jolly decent of you, Marlston, to lend your handkerchief!"

"Well, I suppose," said Frederick Trowse, "we'd better put ourselves away."

"Her hand on each of us in turn. Perhaps we should let her do the rounds a few times before... that was so good. I'd like to feel her next time, whilst..."

"I haven't been wanked by another woman since... well, when we were courting."

"Did Mrs Headman do that a lot?"

"Back then, yes, a lot! We didn't... not the proper thing until our wedding night. Not now..."

"Well, gentlemen, I suppose, now she's gone..." rather repeated Frederick Trowse, but the men seemed almost loath to tidy themselves away -- it was a connection, a reminder back to Zephyrine and her wanking hand. Each remembering her fingers, so soft, so insistent, upon them.

"I wonder what she'll do with the handkerchief. I didn't expect her to take it like that."

It was certainly a question and one the men returned to again on the Monday evening after the weekend, as they sat together once more, waiting for the train to begin its journey and, hopefully, their new and young travelling companion to arrive. They had not discussed on the morning commute into London, There had been others in the compartment.

They speculated on what it had been like for Zephyrine. Their thoughts already turned to the sexual even before her arrival -- even before the train had departed. Perhaps they had been thinking such things all weekend and during Monday's work. That was certainly likely.

"I do hope she comes," remarked Tom Headman looking out of the window. There were chuckles at his double entendre. The gentlemen all hoped that.

She arrived and this time the train had not started moving when Zephyrine opened the door and stepped in, but it was very soon moving as she settled between Hector and Tom Headman. They asked after her day, what she had been doing and so on, though what they really wanted to ask was whether she was in the mood to have her knickers taken down and her sex played with.

It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, James Marlston who came out with it, "Zephyrine, are you wearing knickers today?"

"Of course. School regulation."

"Do you have inspections?" So clear what James Marlston was imagining.

"What, where the whole class has to stand and lift our skirts up around our waists?"

It was something very like that he had been imagining, Hector was sure. Into his mind certainly came the thought of one or two girls in the class being knickerless, their bushy pubic hair there for all to see. Being called out to the front and their bare bottoms severely slapped with a wooden ruler in front of the whole class. The idea very much pleased Hector. An easy transfer from memories of being punished at school to imagining schoolgirls in a similar position and being roundly chastised. He had thoughts, too, of soothing lotion being rubbed into young feminine bottoms. Already his penis was up and hard, and they were not yet far from the starting railway station.

Despite Hector's enthusiasm it seemed such an inspection was not required at the school. Such things -- a possible lack of or non-regulation knickers - obvious when changing for netball or gym. The thought of a whole class changing was equally pleasing to Hector. Girls not boys of course!

"Do you want me to take them off?" Just like that, she lifted her skirt and flashed her knickers at them.

"No, of course not, Zephyrine. Why should we wish you to take your knickers off? Why would we want you to do that? No, no need, Zephyrine... we'll do that!"

"Come, my dear, just lie down, yes, across Headman and me. Make yourself comfortable and we'll do the rest."

Thighs across Hector's lap, head in Tom Headman's lap, Zephyrine settled herself comfortably as large male hands began to stroke her. Tom Headman moving to open her blouse whilst Hector's fingers walked their way under and up her skirt. His thick fingers soon pressing at her sex, rubbing up and down, even pushing the knicker material into her folds and hole to make her knickers all wet from her running wetness. Stirring and squeezing, pushing her lips together inside the material with thumb and forefinger. Running fingers down between them, still all covered by the thick, absorbent knicker material. Frederick Trowse reaching forward to lift Zephyrine's skirt out of the way, letting him and the other gentlemen see just what Hector was doing. See his pushing and playing fingers. And then Frederick Trowse pulled them downwards, Zephyrine lifting her bottom to assist, down and around her knees and then James Marlston pulled them right off. Hector could now play with her open sex, her lips all parted by his fingers, clitoris on full display, as well as her lips and vaginal hole. Wetness just oozing out of it all. Thighs splayed wildly. Tom Headman's hands on her now revealed breasts, pulling at her nipples. Hector touching her silky-smooth open sex, sliding his fingers all over, and even inside.

And it was just at that moment that Stan arrived at the compartment door and pulled it open with his usual cheery, 'Tickets plea...' and stopped dead. His eyes wide, the sight of the schoolgirl's open thighs presented to him, and her feet, to say nothing of her sex, were facing him. His view startling and no doubt very pleasing.

"Well, I never, I..."

"Evening Stan, just a little inspecting -- but not of tickets. Isn't she lovely?" Hector removed his hand giving an even better view.

Open mouthed, Stan nodded and kept staring, "I... yes... I..." He was backing away, " I'm sure... yes... I'm sure your tickets are all in order." And he fled leaving the gentlemen and the young lady to their play.

Zephyrine let them all push their thick fingers inside her vagina in turn. One after another. Different sets of fingers trying and testing her sopping sex. Thick, large, male fingers pushing so deep into her making her gasp and buck. Hector released his penis, bringing it out into the open so it rested against her thigh, sliding a little against the soft skin as she moved. Gentlemen all leaning over her, playing in her wet sex, and touching her breasts and nipples. James Marlston certainly transferring girly wetness from sex to nipples, making them wet and slippery between his fingers -- and then other fingers.

So many hands, so many fingers! Fingers in Zephyrine's sex, fingers over her clitoris and lips, hands grabbing and squeezing her boobs. It was no wonder the girl came, a nice orgasm making her squirm and moan, her thigh certainly rubbing against Hector's exposed penis.

What an experience for the schoolgirl. Four mature gentlemen using their hands and fingers to bring her to a climax. She surrendering herself to their insistent touching and stroking. Such attention from so many gentlemen. Helpless against their sensual onslaught. The orgasm came rushing towards her, somewhat, to be poetic, like the train itself rushing down its line.

As she opened her eyes, she saw they were all licking their fingers. Her eyes widened. Were men not strange! Four nice mature gentlemen looking down at her all kindly and with smiles. Looking perhaps especially at the wetness still oozing out of her hole. Between her thighs, not merely pushing against a thigh but standing there between was Hector's tumescent penis. Not that close to her sex but very much between her legs. Across the compartment James Marlston and Frederick Trowse also with their swollen penises out of their trousers. It was clear to her the men had been touching and wanking themselves whilst they had been touching her, perhaps with fingers wet from her. "Shall I?" She asked. There was no need to specify what!

Her hand closed on the erection down between her thighs and she begins to stroke. Unsurprisingly Hector's fingers returned to her wet sex and, as she stroked, so did he. Across the compartment the two gentlemen resumed their wanking as they watched the activity, and, beneath her head, she felt Tom Headman fumbling and something very firm and warm came up beside her right ear, within her hair.

More wetness oozed from her as Hector's fingers played and it was not long before he too was oozing, little droplets from the end of his penis finding their way onto her bare thigh. It would not be long before the schoolgirl felt semen warm and copious upon her thigh for the first time. Something she would no doubt feel so many, many times in future years. Often dripping not merely from a penis but from her freshly fucked sex and down onto her thighs. Her hole was currently tight and virginal but many penises (or perhaps not so many -- a few or even just the one - who knew what was in store for her.) would, one day in the future stretching and making it wide and accommodating.

A groan from Hector and everyone saw his hard penis, almost seem to draw back in her hand, before the large helmet shape, pale pink and purple fringed, began to disgorge its load. Spurts of semen across the schoolgirl's milky thigh, dollops of cum falling there, as they had on the handkerchief the day before.

"May I too?" gasped James Marlston and he suddenly lurched to his feet and projected himself over the prone girl. Even as Hector's penis delivered its last small spurt, James Marlston's rather pointed, perhaps triangular shaped, penis head began to release, his ejaculation spurting and then falling quite a way down onto Zephyrine's bare legs, luckily missing catching Hector's own erection still pointing up between her thighs. Was it six or was it seven spurts out onto the girl?

"Trowse," asked James Marlston, "do you want to join us, if Zephyrine's is happy for you as well?"

Difficult for Frederick Trowse to make much objection. He too stood, no mention from him of whether they should 'really be doing that this time.' No mention that Zephyrine was really rather young to be semen splattered or, moreover, what her father might think. What indeed! Instead, a very respectable businessman with immaculate suit, even waistcoat and watchchain, stepped towards the schoolgirl. Red carnation in his buttonhole but there, out of his trouser fly, a thick and strongly erect organ, copious hairs sprouting out around it where it ventured from the trousers, all very much displayed. Very manly. His right hand with gold signet ring to his little finger stroking as he clearly carefully aimed and then out it came -- potent semen in strong spurts, out and down onto the girl's thighs adding to the pools and streams already there. Good that he had not aimed at her pubic hair, however much he might have liked to. The gentleman was being good, being careful, like his fellows. They all knew what dramatic effect semen can have on young women and indeed mature women. They had experience. They had children.

Tom Headman had not yet joined the communal spurting. He was, after all, rather restrained with Zephyrine's head in his lap. His penis was out, and he had certainly been enjoying the sexual activity though his penile stimulation had been rather limited to stroking it against Zephyrine's soft and warm ear and in her hair. It was probably not a good idea to ejaculate like that. Amusing perhaps to take Zephyrine's virginity in her right ear -- not something many men can boast at taking: a schoolgirl's aural virginity, or at least half of it. Certainly not a good idea at all to get semen in the girl's hair. A bother to wash out and what would her father say! It would be rather obvious tangled there.

It was Zephyrine who moved, who sat up and allowed Tom Headman to rise, to get up from his seat with his erection so very much before him. The girl rotated on her bottom, then pushed it forward, keeping the material of her skirt back behind her ensuring her thighs were very bare for him. Tom Headman took a few steps down the compartment towards her, standing facing her now closed knees but with his penis looming over thighs all sticky and gooey with the outpourings of three gentlemen. He was to add his own. He had been last to come the day before and he would be the last again that day. The day before he had been hurried but, this time, the train was not yet slowing one bit. There was plenty of time for a leisurely wank. Time to wank slowly, time to savour the experience. Moreover, he was to get special treatment as Zephyrine reached out and took hold. Unlike the others he was not going to be wanking himself. The girl was going to do it for him.

Slow purposeful strokes upon the male organ before her. Her fingers pulling the foreskin back and forth making the shiny rounded end disappear and appear. She was looking right down the barrel, would see the little slit open and begin to produce. For the moment it was closed. Slide, slide, slide, slide. Soft preputial skin being slid over taut membrane. Silence reigned in the compartment as the train rattled on its way, speeding through the countryside. A whistle blowing as a level crossing was approached -- the powerful jet of steam from the boiler released. In the compartment three seated gentlemen and a seated girl plus another gentleman standing with hands reached upwards to hold onto the luggage rack to prevent him falling sideways. He was not getting something down from the rack -- that was not why he was standing! Like the train's steam whistle he was about to release a powerful jet.

"I wonder how nice that feels," the schoolgirl asked.

"Very nice. You can do this anytime! Slowly now. I'm very close. Just hold a second. So good!" Tom Headman smiled at Hector, even turned to smile at the others.

His fellow businessmen nodded. It had all, indeed, been very good. Remarkable to see their own semen on the schoolgirl's legs. Remarkable to see their colleague standing there with exposed and rigid cock, clearly on the verge of ejaculating. They watched, fascinated, as the girl released it. Was it really quivering? All so strongly upright. Her fingers slipped in under it. Was she having a little feel at his wrinkled scrotum and balls? A slightly inarticulate noise from Tom Headman caused Zephyrine to pull her hand away perhaps thinking she had hurt him. It was quite the wrong assumption and the wrong thing to do. She should have grabbed the penis and stroked with enthusiasm. Instead, it went off on its own. Definitely now quivering and shaking it spurted freely. A long spurt and then another travelling even further, well over Zephyrine's knees and up her thighs, the second spurt splashing against her dark pubic hair.

"Oh, please stroke."

And Zephyrine grabbed the ejaculating penis and pulled the foreskin up and down as more came out, more white semen, to fly through the air and onto her thighs. The gentleman emptying himself onto the schoolgirl. A squeeze from the girl and a last drop elongated and dropped down onto her left knee.

It had all been rather dramatic. The other gentlemen gave it -- the scene - a burst of applause.

"Well done, old man. That was a good one!" It certainly was. Tom Headman was quite a 'shooter'!

They had all done rather well and the remarks made were very much upon those lines. The gentlemen too saying how pleased they were to have brought Zephyrine off. Indeed, they were rather pleased at themselves having ensured her orgasm before their own. Though, perhaps, it had been the sexual excitement of playing with the girl that had been uppermost in their minds rather than some sort of chivalric thought of 'ladies first'.

Not the hurried finishing up of the day before. Even before the train started to slow the gentlemen were clearing up their mess from Zephyrine. It really would not have done to let her go out into the station like that with semen running and dripping from her legs. And so much of it. Still less for it to be absorbed by her grey pleated skirt and she to have semen stains all down its inside. Many, many stains. What would her mother think?

A large white handkerchief had been produced. This time with the letter 'T' embroidered in red in one corner. Fresh and still ironed, it did just the job in mopping up Zephyrine's thighs. There was plenty of mopping to do. The task falling mostly upon Tom Headman, it was his handkerchief after all, until Zephyrine took over and finished the job.

A neat and composed looking schoolgirl left the compartment at the station. Brassiere done up, buttons all in order and grey, pleated skirt swishing above her white socks. That her rather wet knickers were in her satchel was not obvious at all. Wet knickers next to a very wet white handkerchief.

The men all watched her walk down the platform and were watching her still as the train drew out of her station.

"Well, that was rather fine, eh chaps?" said Tom Headman.

"We do seem to be losing handkerchiefs at quite a rate!"

"I wonder what she does with them?"

The next evening the men speculated further on that topic. They talked about Zephyrine quite a lot, disappointed in her absence as that day she seemed not to have made the train. Perhaps she not been at school, had she simply been too late, was she unwell? No Zephyrine came panting up the corridor, having just caught the train further down. Just Stan, the conductor, came along the corridor, looking a little gingerly around the corner and into the compartment, clearly to check things were not somewhat out of hand. All he found was four respectable businessmen engrossed in evening papers.

"I wonder what she does with those handkerchiefs," mused James Marlston again a little later.

"Washing them I rather hope. What do you think?"

"They were certainly pretty wet with... you know. Heavy and wet. You don't think she's... I mean she's a very sexual girl. You don't think she plays with... in bed. You don't think she's rubbed that spongy, slippery, heavy material against her sex, chaps? Rub rub rub! She wouldn't transfer all that semen onto herself, or at least try to, would she? Press it against her sex, make herself not just gooey with her own, um, juice, but ours as well. Really sticky and sloppy? I do hope not. Or might she even press those handkerchiefs to her nose and mouth and lick, indeed put the wet patches into her mouth and suck?"

"I wouldn't have thought so, Marlston. A bit extreme for a young lass, eh?" Frederick Trowse looking a little shocked.

"Well, maybe. But she did take both. I don't think it's beyond possibility. I mean what did Headman do with her knickers that night he took them home?"

A cough from Tom Headman, a mock embarrassed cough.

"I don't mean to pry. Headman, but I'm sure you wrapped yourself up well in them. Got all warm and cosy."

There was laughter.

"But did you perhaps suck on them a little bit?"

Another cough, perhaps really embarrassed this time, followed by a rather quiet, "...might have done."

"So," smiled James Marlston, "why not Zephyrine?"

"What I'm worried about is getting semen -- yes, our semen -- anywhere near her, um, vagina. From handkerchief or, well directly. I'm sure we're all imagining this, um activity with the girl, might lead to, um, copulation. Headman I saw came quite close to the, um, bullseye yesterday. A good effort, Headman, but damn close! I think we're going to have to speak to her seriously."

A serious conversation in the offing with Zephyrine about contraception, perhaps.

It was a serious enough conversation between the gentlemen that evening, there in the compartment, sexual enough to have caused bulging in suit trousers. But, alas, the girl in question and her soft hands were not there to relieve the tension -- however much they had hoped during their day she would be there. Zephyrine was much missed. They liked her company... and her body.