This story is based on a true event. All participants are over the age of 18.
TRAIN SEX
I once had a very erotic experience, nonconsensual sex on a train. It wasn't a violent act. You might say I was just taking advantage of a situation that seemed to get out of hand. And then there was that interloper, well I'm getting ahead of myself.
I was an 18-year-old college student in my freshman year at a small midwestern college. A year earlier, I was a High School Varsity Wrestler offered an athletic scholarship to attend. Since my parents didn't have a pot to piss in, although we were a family of pissers, it was my only chance to get an education. I just had to make sure my ass didn't get whipped on the mat and kicked out of school. So far, it was working out.
A few days before the term started, I took a train from Grand Central Station in New York City to get to Indiana. When the first quarter vacation break was to take place, Mom sent me enough money to buy a train ticket to come home for ten days. I had a feeling she must have fucked some guy in a bar and rolled him for the cash, but I didn't say anything. I took the money and headed home the evening the quarter ended.
An attractive blond, wearing a short skirt and a white blouse that did little to hide her large breasts, probably five or six years older than me, was seated waiting there in the train station. Her long legs went on forever. A guy I thought to be her husband or perhaps her boyfriend was busy talking to her. I don't stick my nose in other people's business, so I just read my English Lit book figuring I'd get a little ahead once the 2nd quarter started.
Just before the train arrived, the guy accompanying the woman looked up and walked over to me.
"Hey bud, my name is Eric. Are you headed to New York on the 7:15?"
"Yep, all the way."
"Could I ask you a favor?"
"Sure."
"My wife gets a little dizzy on trains. I'm giving her some meds so she can sleep, but would you keep an eye on her so that no one bothers her?"
"Sure, no problem."
Eric went back to sit with his wife, and I continued my reading. A half-hour later, the station started vibrating as the old train pulled in for a ten minute stop. Those of us waiting inside, hearing the noise of arrival, got up and headed outside to the open tracks. The train slowed to a halt with all the screeches and whistles the brakes make.
The three of us found ourselves waiting in line to board the train. Eric introduced me to his wife.
"Cynthia, this is Dan."
"Please to meet ya," I said.
Since I was going home, I didn't have a suitcase. I offered to carry Cynthia's case up and into the train. It was surprisingly heavy.
I stood back to let her pass and then followed her up the train stairs. I could see she was wearing a lacy pink thong under the skirt. I'm not a voyeur. You couldn't help noticing as she climbed up the steep metal stairs ahead of me.
The train was almost empty. Cynthia walked about halfway down the aisle, then stopped and turned to me,
"Is this a good spot?"
"Sure. We can reverse the seat in front of us and have plenty of room."
Cynthia nodded her head, her long blond hair moving in unison as if choreographed. She stepped forward and took the window seat. After stowing her heavy bag in the overhead compartment, I sat in the aisle seat. There was an empty seat between us.
Once we got settled, since there was no one in the row in front of us, I flipped the backrest of the chair in front of us forward so we'd have a roomy place to stretch out if we so desired.
We made small talk for the first hour. That was when I got a good look at Eric's wife. Her honey-blond hair framed her face. Cynthia had the bluest of eyes and the whitest of skin with rosy cheeks. When she spoke, her face was animated. I could see her teeth were perfect and white as ivory. There was a hint of the sophisticated farm girl in her. She was a real dish.
Around 9 PM, the overhead lights dimmed. I imagined it was to help people fall asleep. Cynthia's blues eyes were already beginning to close. By 9:30, she was sound asleep. The coach was dark. The only illumination was the dim yellow safety bulbs along the floor down the aisle.
I wasn't sleepy. I usually stay up later. I was thinking of all the things I planned to do when I got back home. It would be fun to have a beer and pizza with my friends and reminisce. Maybe check in with my old girlfriend and take Dolly out to the Drive-In Movie, perhaps even getting her to do what she did best or pushing her again to go all the way.
I didn't expect it, but Cynthia, fully asleep, began to lean in my direction. Eventually, she reached out to hold me. I'm sure it was not purposeful, but in a short time, her hands were resting right on my dick. I didn't know what to do, so I did nothing, but my cock was getting more excited by the minute. I could feel the old stallion was beginning to drip, wetting my underwear.
Figuring I was in for a good thing, I eased her hands back and unzipped my fly. My dick weaseled the way through the slit in my underwear. Her hands quickly encircled my cock. In a few minutes, she was holding on for dear life. I put my jacket over what was going on so no one would notice even though it was reasonably dark. Only a few people were seated in the car. None were in our vicinity.
Meanwhile, she seemed to be inching closer, burrowing under my jacket until her face was on top of her hands. I suppose it was a reflex. She moaned,
"Oh, Eric," and took my penis into her lovely mouth.
