Special Delivery

Who doesn't know the tingle of rising anticipation that builds up during the interminable wait for that one very special package that must soon arrive on the doorstep. Then the sense of excitement as trembling fingers eagerly unwrap and lay bare that one prized, most longed-for gift?

Max felt that old familiar tingle of anticipation as he once again let his eyes take in the breathtaking beauty of the tall languid woman who lounged back into the yielding cushions of his deep green divan. He admired the way her elegant hand fluttered in the air as if to brush off some casual remark. Frederika was in no particular hurry to get on with the business that had brought them together. He was once again fascinated by the way she moved -- the easy grace of the ex-model as she settled back, deliberately placing the coffee cup on the table between them, then easing back into the leather cushion; painted lips widening in a gracious smile. A smile just for him. She was one of those women whose easy charm could make a man feel accepted -- that he was the only man in the world.

He couldn't help smiling back at the easy way she crossed those long attractive legs. She was secretly pleased to see his eyes light up at the casually provocative display she so innocently provided him with. Over her coffee cup, she watched the man, watching her.

The unbuttoned jacket of her tailored business suit fell open; the narrow skirt riding up a few more inches as she shifted in her seat. Her easy smile never left her face, as with studied nonchalance several inches of an enticing nyloned leg were now uncovered. That sliver of newly-exposed thigh filled him with incredible longing, an overwhelming desire to sample what she showed to him -- to slide a hungry hand along the length of that leg fully savoring the slick smoothness of that subtle feminine contour.

It was that certain air that Frederika had; that total lack of concern, that he found so provocative; the way his beautiful visitor managed to carry that little bit of sexual display with such aplomb, such supreme indifference. Not for the first time, he found himself captivated by those lovely legs; falling in love with them all over again. For Max loved those legs and the beauty to whom they belonged, but, alas, he knew that love could never be. For Max well knew that Frederika's preferences ran decidedly towards her own sex: choice young girls and the most exquisite women, stunning models and attractive actresses passed through those elegant hands in an endless parade.

"Frederika, how kind of you to come. But you needn't have personally made that long tiring trip all the way from Paris. Surely Hector could have seen to the delivery?"

" But Max, darling, It was no bother at all. I would be remiss if I didn't give valued clients like you my personal attention. Besides, the trains are really quite comfortable, these days; we had reserved our own private day coach, of course. And I had Hector tag along. He's really such a treasure. Then too, we took the girl with us in our cabin. It was Hector's idea that she would share our chamber. As it turned out, she provided an amusing diversion to wile away the hours. All in all, not what one would call an unpleasant trip."

"An amusing diversion?"

Frederika's knowing smile widened, her gleaming lips turning up ever so slightly.

"Yes, well traveling with servants can be such a bore, but since the girl was there; one could say we brought along our own entertainment."

"Really? Do tell?"

His bright-eyed guest shifted forward on the sofa. "Well, it was a terribly hot day. There we were, rolling through the countryside in a warm and stuffy railroad car, one of those coaches with sealed windows. Really such an annoyance! The best we could do was to draw the blinds to keep out the afternoon sun. The cars on the Blue Train are not air-conditioned, as you know. It got warmer as the day wore on. You know how it is on those long train trips: the monotonous click of the wheels, the swaying coach, the afternoon heat; it all lulls one into a kind of lethargy. Soon we were looking at each other, hopelessly bored. I put down my magazine, looked at my watch, and stretched; Hector looked up at me with that inquisitive look he has; he's such a pet, sooo sensitive to my every mood.

'Hector darling, I'm bored. Isn't there something to do?'

He rolled his eyes. 'Ah, Frederika my pet, but you are so easily bored. Hummm....what shall we do with you...what shall we do? How does one amuse a bored princess? "What to do...what to do? Yesss...I know! What our princess needs is a toy...some pretty bauble to play with. I know! I wonder if Astrid here could be asked to help out to ease your boredom.' We laughed.

Hector can always make me laugh. He's really such a delight. You just never know what sort of things he'll come up with. In any event, he straightened right up and addressed our demur traveling companion reminding her of the privacy of our car, and telling her we'd like to see her expose herself for us. 'We wish to see your cunt,' is the blunt way that wicked man put it. Hector's so droll you know.

When she fully realized what she was being asked to do she blushed, but said not a word. I watched her, wondering what went through that pretty blond head, now lowered nicely as she studied the floor of the coach. By now Astrid has been with us for several weeks; of course she had been taken her in hand immediately so that by now our newest serving girl had become sweetly submissive. Indeed, had she not been properly-trained to serve, we could never have offered her to someone with your discriminating tastes.

Now you should understand that the young woman was dressed in respectable, if rather dull, clothes; her dark brown traveling suit all but hid her charms as we boarded the train. But now, with the door to our private car closed and locked, and the blinds pulled down, we felt secure enough that a bit of display might be encouraged.

Hector and I were seated directly across from Astrid. I'm sure you'll be pleased with her when you meet her. She was, after all, selected according to your specifications: tall, a slender girl, one of those long-legged types with small-breasts and a blond Scandinavian face that you seem to prefer. Oh yes, Max, I know your tastes in women. I know you quite well.

And so I sat back to enjoy the show as Hector encouraged our traveling companion to take off her shoes, those ugly 'sensible' shoes, worn with her traveling outfit. Then she was told to lift herself up off the seat so she could pull her skirt out from beneath her, and raise the hem up her legs. We watched the skirt inch upward uncovering her slim legs in a charming pair of black cotton stockings. But naturally Hector made it perfectly clear it was not her pretty legs we were interested in. He had her reach up under the skirt, slip her knickers down, and promptly hand them over. He handed them to me; still warm and slightly moist. Now the girl was told to hike the skirt back up, all the way till it was around her waist, and her bare bottom was resting on the padded leather seat. Under Hectors guidance she eased back, lifted her stockinged feet, and planted her heels on the front edge of the cushion. Once in that deliciously wanton pose, she was told to open her legs, letting her folded knees fall apart to revealing such a darling little pussy lightly adorned with wispy blond fur.

She was made to stay like that. And as we rode mile after mile along those monotonous rails, we were treated to the view of young Astrid's most private parts displayed for us like some brazen whore's. Of course she tried her best to avoid our eyes; just sat in silence, her blond features set in what you could call stoic resolve. Although she seemed quite unemotional, I'm sure the little vixen secretly enjoyed every minute of it. You could actually see she was getting wet. The girl's a born exhibitionist, as I'm sure you will find! Anyway, there she sat -- showing herself to us as we paged through our magazines and made a few passing comments about the weather. I believe it was good practice for her. Such displays help to build character, you know.

In time I went back to reading my book, Hector his newspaper, paying little attention to the erotic tableau being so generously offered to us. At one point, as the train crept slowly through some little village, Hector threatened to roll the blinds up and give the country folk on the platform a good look at our little exhibitionist. It was then that the usually indifferent girl showed genuine alarm, sitting back and staring in disbelief. Hector took one look at her wide eyes and laughed. He was, of course, only joking...at least I think he was.

And so we rode on like that for a while in silence, till Hector announced was not quite satisfied with these arrangements. He really is quite insatiable you know. And so Astrid was made to place a hand on her crotch; at his urging she began to move her fingers. Soon she had eased back with eyes closed, and bit her lower lip as she pleasured herself for us. I can tell you Max, it was delightfully entertaining to see that darling girl, playing with herself following Hector's detailed instructions, palming her mound, and toying with her wet labia, finally finger-fucking herself for our amusement. I can tell you Max, it was all quite delightful and terribly, terribly erotic: to see that girl writhing on that seat, working herself up like that. And she was obliged to bring herself off...not once but three times! In the throes of orgasm, her blond face arched back, eyes closed tight, those crisp features contorted in lust, that lovely body of hers twisting and squirming on the seat in rising heat, making little moans, like a hurt puppy, as she slid two fingers up her cunt, and began fucking herself most vigorously.

She was made to drive herself to climax for us right there in that car. And then again! And finally, a third time! Hector can be such a merciless taskmaster! I knew she was talented but on that trip we found she was a virtuoso with her instrument; hers a most captivating performance.

I must admit I too had become powerfully aroused by the steamy show; soon I had one hand jammed down the front of my skirt. It didn't take much for me to climax as you know; hard and fast. My panties were sopping wet by the time the train pulled into D'Arcy Station. Hector, of course, seemed quite detached as usual, merely amused by all the female heat in that suffocating little cabin.

I was drained and not much use by the time the train jerked to a halt; Astrid was flushed; mouth open, panting like racehorse. But the ever-competent Hector took charge to set things right. Astrid was made to use her wadded panties to sop up her juices from the slick leather seat, and then obliged to stand up and put the soaked panties back on. He had her pull them into place and turn around to show us, before allowing her to drop her skirt back into place, and set right her clothes for our departure. We were again a properly dressed traveling party of three as we alighted from the train in D'Arcy Station.

And there of course was -- your magnificent car! It was so thoughtful of you to send the Rolls for meet us. That dreamy chauffeur of yours promptly stepped behind the car to open the boot for us, inviting Astrid to climb in. He, no doubt, remembered our last delivery had been made that way.

But I told him that this time that would not be necessary; the young lady was to travel in the comfortable back seat -- sandwiched between the two of us. By now of course, I was eager for my own satisfaction, longing to feel her body, to get my hands on that juicy piece, driven wild to drink fully at that delicious honey pot that was practically drooling at me all during our trip. I simply had to sample lovely Astrid one more time before leaving her with you for an entire week."

End of Part 1