Note: This is a story about adult sexual activity and is intended for adults only. Everyone in this story was over eighteen at the time the described events took place. While the events in this story are based on true experiences some names have been changed and times have been compressed for this format. The events took place decades prior to the current epidemic of STDs therefore the practice of safe sex was not at issue.
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Even before we were married, Will and I enjoyed sharing stories of our previous sexual encounters; going into great detail about how it happened and what we enjoyed about having sex someone else almost always led to our having great sex afterwards.
While it excited me to listen to Will tell me about wooing and bedding some other girl, it was difficult for me to share such personal information at first but, eventually, I was able to overcome my reluctance, especially after a glass of wine or two.
One evening after dinner I refilled our wine glasses as we began to clean up the kitchen. We sipped our wine and chatted about our day as we went about our chores.
"Do you remember my Aunt Ruth who came to our wedding?" I asked Will
"Yes, she's the one from upstate New York. A police woman I think."
"That's the one, she's a police dispatcher. Today I was thinking back to when I visited her after my high school graduation; it's hard to believe it was fourteen years ago. Anyway, I thought you might like to hear about my experience there."
Will chuckled, "You know I love hearing about your youthful indiscretions."
"Well, as a graduation present, she sent me a train ticket and invited me to visit her; she promised to take me to New York City to see a play and to shop."
Will and I moved into the den with our wine glasses and curled up on one of the sofas. It was not my intention to describe my entire trip in detail but rather to tell him about something we both loved hearing about and telling about-having sex with someone else. I began my story:
The trip was my first train trip alone; it lasted more than twenty-four hours. About ten o'clock the first night porters began passing out blankets and pillows for everyone then the lights were dimmed. I was sitting alone since there were not many people in my car; I let the seat back, pulled my legs up, and spread my blanket over me.
A young college aged couple sat across the aisle from me. The man sat with his back to the window and the girl curled up against him in a spoon fashion facing me; she smiled at me and wiggled against her partner. I pretended to close my eyes but I could see enough to know that the man's hands, even covered by the blanket, were moving over her body, finally settling near her crotch; she began to move her hips slowly against him. I could hear their heavy breathing across the aisle; there was more hand movement under the blanket, the girl lifted her hips slightly off the seat, and the hands moved down her legs leaving an imprint of her panties around her thighs.
She stretched out her hand to the arm rest for leverage and pushed her body against her partner. I opened my eyes for just a moment; I saw the same look on the girl's face that I imagine I have the instant a hard cock is pushed into the wet folds of my pussy. The girl opened her eyes and we immediately made contact; she smiled and closed her eyes again.
I moved a hand under my blanket, my fingers settled on the damp crotch of my panties as I continued to watch the scene unfolding just a few feet away; my fingers moved over the nylon fabric made slick by the juices flowing from my well. I pressed my middle finger into the folds of my vulva to spread the slick, natural lubricant over my clitoris. I wondered where the man's fingers were; were they slick from her juices as well?
I laid my hand on Will's crotch to make sure he was enjoying my story; he was.
By then the couple had given up all pretense of being discrete. The man was thrusting hard against the girl, the blanket had partially slipped off; I could see the girl's panties around her thighs and a thick patch of pubic hair across her pubic mound, both were moaning; they were well on their way to an orgasm and I was about to join them.
I let my blanket slip down exposing my open legs, my fingers worked feverishly over the wet crotch of my panties; the fornicating couple across the aisle took notice. The girl and I stared into each other's faces but there were no smiles exchanged, only looks of intense pleasure.
A few minutes later the girl reached down and pulled her panties up; I knew the man's semen was oozing from her pussy and into her panties. I was so jealous.
I adjusted my blanket, closed my eyes, and thought about the many times I stood in the shadows of the bathroom that adjoined my parent's bedroom and masturbated as I watched them have sex but, this was a very different and arousing experience. The train car was very public; anyone could walk by at any time, the fornicators were complete strangers to me, and for the first time I shared the very private and personal act of pleasuring myself with others. The experience expanded my sexuality immensely, adding to my proclivity for being somewhat of a voyeur and exhibitionist.
Aunt Ruth met me at the train station the next evening; we had a wonderful time getting caught up on family gossip, walking around the town, and meeting her friends. As promised, later in the week we took the train into the city, saw a Broadway play, and shopped at Macy's and Bloomingdale's; a real treat for a small town, southern girl.
During my visit I noticed that several times a day a large, bearded man rode his loud motor cycle down the drive way adjacent to Aunt Ruth's lawn. When I asked about him she would reply, "Oh, that's just Burley Bill." She seemed reluctant to say more.
Burly Bill was by far the most interesting person I met. His nick name described him perfectly, he was a big, barrel-chested, biker type in his forties; he had long grayish, red hair plaited in a pig tail that hung down his back, and a full beard of the same color. Tattoos adorned his upper body, a heavy, gold ring hung from one of his ears.
He was a welder by trade but you could also see examples of his impressive metal art work around town. His house was a two story building with a garage and shop beneath his living quarters tucked in some trees behind Aunt Ruth's house; his driveway ran along her property line. During the day you could hear metal being hammered, cut, and ground by high speed grinders.
One afternoon Aunt Ruth and I were in the yard picking flowers when Bill stopped by on his motor cycle.
"Hey Ruth, I see you have company. Is this your niece from Florida?"
"Yes, this is Marlene and you had better behave yourself around her." My aunt said to him with a smile.
Bill laughed, "Now Ruth, you know what a gentleman I am around young ladies."
I was a bit taken aback by the leering looks he gave me from top to bottom and pretty disgusted by his animal like looks; he had hands that were more like paws than hands and looked as though they had never been completely clean. He had a sweaty, grungy biker look about him.
The last afternoon of my visit I was out in the yard admiring the flowers while Aunt Ruth was working the second shift at the police station; I heard the sound of Burly Bill's loud motor cycle roar down the driveway. I was standing close to the driveway so I waved as he approached, just to be friendly. He slowed down and rolled to a stop with his engine still making its loud grumbling sound; I could feel the vibrations of the engine in my body from several feet away. I had to put my fingers to my ears until he turned off the engine.
"Hi Sweetheart, how's your visit going?"
When he spoke his deep voice was gravelly but soft. I was both repulsed and fascinated by him; I had never been that close to a man that big, a man that animal like. He wore large oily boots, too tight jeans, and an open front, sleeveless denim jacket with chains. His hairy chest, stomach, and arms displayed tattoos of snakes, skulls, and half-naked women. He was disgusting yet my nipples immediately hardened and pushed against my knit top; I was certain Bill took notice of them by the way he looked me over.
My mind was spinning but I managed to stammer out something about his "bike."
He emphatically informed me, "Honey this ain't no bike, it's a hog, a Harley Davidson Hog," Then he looked at me and asked, "You ain't ever been on a hog before, have you?"
"No, of course not." I replied trying to be emphatic.
"That's a shame; it would change your life forever."
He lifted his leg to do that kick thing to restart it.
"You come back when you are grown and I'll take you for a ride you will never forget."
Well, that just pissed me off so I asked him, "How do I get on this damn thing?"
I threw my leg over the back of the seat like he told me while trying to keep my skirt in place and not showing him everything I had. I placed my feet on the rear wheel pegs and took a hold of his sides as he kicked the starter.
We roared down the road; I felt the cool evening air move over my body but more than that, I felt the engine vibrations through the seat directly into my crotch. For a short while I tried to keep my skirt from blowing up and exposing my panties to everyone we passed but gave that up and let the vibrations carry me away. After several miles I complained about my feet being too hot from the pipes beneath them; Bill stopped in the middle of the country road, lifted each of my ankles, put them in his lap, then we roared down the highway again.
I could not believe what was happening to me, I knew this man, whom I found repulsive and disgusting, less than an hour yet I had my legs spread wide open and wrapped around him, my feet were close to his genitals, I was riding on some monster machine that was more like a giant sex toy than a mode of transportation. My nipples vibrated against his back causing a sexual current to surge directly to my pussy; I began to experience orgasm after orgasm.
