Strangers On A Train 13

Okay - there's a little poetic licence here in the sense that I believe six berth sleeper compartments have long disappeared from the British Isles, but, hell, it's my fantasy based on travel abroad, so this technical detail aside, please... enjoy :)

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There was a cock-up with the reservations, which initially, yes, it rather peeved me, but there's such a thing as too spoilt, and it strikes me that there are worse things in life than having to share an overnight sleeper train carriage with two complete strangers. I barely notice them. Just sip on the chai latte I picked up at the station and stare fixedly out of the window and into the black. Love train journeys, me... the headspace, the anonymity, the brief exposure to the lives of others as they gossip, sleep, pull out laptops, whatever...

The elderly lady opposite, she has her head in a novel, anna karenina. Good choice for trains, I think. There's a guy... hmmm, yeah, pleasant enough. Dark, intense, laptop open, plugged into his music... way too young to notice me, which suits.

It's already 8 when we leave kings cross, and by 9 the porter comes in to pull down, make up the beds. I leave then, take my overnight bag and walk down to the buffet; I hear one of my companions following behind me, but with no interest in talking and a slight thirst on me I just walk on, order a sol and a shot of tequila (no point in having to repeatedly go to the bar) and sit down at one of the tables unoccupied by one of the few remaining diners.

At half nine, it feels like midnight. I swill down the shot, shove the lime into the Sol, and take a swig, before just sitting and taptapping on my blackberry, one google search leading to another, and I find myself going from an article on Amarula Cream to liver disease to an std site to a advert for flavoured condoms and finally landing at a page called 'Secrets of a dirty girl: the guide to the perfect blow job'. It's this I'm engrossed in when mr dark intensity sits opposite, after mumbling what I assume is a question about its vacancy in what I now see is an american accent.

It vaguely crosses my mind that he's seen my browsing, but the sol's almost finished, and the tequila was a double, so I don't care. He puts the laptop on the table between us, and we both taptap in harmony. He drinks what looks like strawberry ribena even quicker than I drink mine, and I guess out of politeness when gets gets up for another, he asks if he can get me one. I ask for a sol, but he's seen the other glass, and I guess he's a drinker, because he picks it up, sniffs it and asks if I want another tequila. I do.

When he orders a double for me and I hear him get a large vodka and cranberry juice (which I didn't even know was a drink), I kind of smile to myself, and then I go back to my guide and he taps into that laptop. I get the next one - he doesn't argue - and excuse myself. A total of maybe twenty words between us. As I get to the carriage door, I involuntarily turn back. He's not looking, and I have no idea why I did.

In the toilets, I change. My nightwear is more all-encompassing that the clothes I've taken off. T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. I keep the bra on for decency's sake. Put on a fresh pair of socks and go back to the carriage, where the lights are dimmed way down and the lady is gently snoring in a top bunk.

I see mr america has staked a claim on the middle bunk. There are six beds and three of us, so we have a 'layer' each. I take the lower tier, crawl in and pull up my blinds a little to see the fields rush by. Aberdeen is eight hours away. I'm tired and more than a little drunk. I lie down under the blankets and the world, as lights, rushes by.

I put my phone under my pillow, and I am on my back, as I just feel myself let go and relax and float off. I wake up sometime as the door opens, but half feigning, half actually sleeping, drift back...

I wake quite gently, as a finger touches my lips, softly, not threatening, in a hush-ing motion, and there's a slight shhh, as I feel the blankets lift up and a body crawl in next to me. Still drunk... maybe... but not concerned in the slightest. Fully dressed, like me.

I roll onto my side, facing the wall and he clips on behind me, arm casually over my body. Five minutes, an hour later, I wake up and roll round to face him. The lull and rock of the train barely cover the sound of my breathing as he leans forward, put his hand on my chin and soft soft, kisses me lightly on the lips. A stretch becomes a turn, and I lie on my side again, as he wraps himself around me, arm, hand under my t-shirt and that pointless bra, stroking my entire top half, cupping my breasts, slip-sliding down to the top of the tracksuit pants, which we remove, and over the knickers, which we don't.

Deftly pushing the crotch to one side, licking those fingers (a totally unnecessary act, but an appreciated gesture), as I lift my knee up, just making any access easier, and then he turns back round onto my back. He leans, over me and we see how I kiss, because I seemed to have forgotten and that's a shame. He keeps that hand still rubbing around, as his head goes down to those way more than a handful breasts, nipples, and sucks and nibbles in a way that would have even me gently moaning, whispering his name in that darkness with an 'oh', except that I can't because our third party is still gently snoring, so I bite my lower lip, and he bites my neck, and it's all biting and panting, as he looks at me, eyes up, and he kind of smiles. I kind of wonder whether I should stop this, but not really because I feel how soft and warm his tongue is, and I just know how it's going to feel and that's not a feeling for stopping.

So his face, his mouth, his tongue, is everywhere, and he's flicking like a lizard and sucking away, and he pausse and bites my inner thigh, and my lips are so bitten I can taste it. I'm thinking of the webguide I was reading earlier and bits flash into my mind as I pull his body, currently half off the bunk, round so that I am on my side, he is on his, kind of head to toe, but not, and both with access to the task at hand. But for now, I'll tell you what I do =)

And I think back to what she said, that dirty grrrl, and follow her advice to the letter: 'I take him in my hand, gently stroking, using my thumb to tease the head of his cock. When I finally lean forward to lick just the tip, I watch him. The look on his face is priceless. It gives me a rush. With my hands on his thighs and my thumbs rubbing his balls I begin teasing him just a little. Licking gently. Alternating between licking his balls and licking just the head of his cock. I love the way he tastes. I'm appreciative of how his cock responds, grows, and hardens more and more with each lick.

Finally, I wrap my lips around him, pausing a moment to taste that wonderful precum, swirling my tongue around as I place the slightest amount of pressure on my lips. When I begin to suck, I expect a response from him and usually get it rather quickly, with growth or hardness, sometimes a moan or a gasp. I'm careful to suck just on the end for a while, making him want it more, making him wish for all of my mouth.

At this point I hope his hands have made it to my head. The feel of him running his fingers through my hair and yes, even pulling it (or trying to ;)), will encourage me all the more. As I bob up and down on his shaft I pay special attention to the amount and speed of my sucking. I want to build him up, not just make him explode. As I feel him getting closer, I back off. I don't want to rush to the finish. I want this to be the best he ever had.

My mouth will become tired at some point and I'll know the time is getting close. It is only then that he'll get the full force that my mouth can give, sucking harder and harder, faster and faster, tongue swirling.

When him finally let go and cum it will be in full force, spraying down my throat, filling my mouth with hot juices. I love the taste of it. I want it all and I'll keep my lips around him until he gives it all to me. I'll try to keep up and swallow all of it down, but the slightest bit may escape my lips as I gently pull away from him. Don't worry. My tongue won't let it drip all the way down my chin. I do really want it all.'

Well, that's what she said, and that's what I did, and, hell, it works for me.