Copyright 2004, All rights reserved
Jack et Marie
Continuing a spin-off from the story of Karen and her grandmother's apparently magic ring, as described in other files in Literotica.
The California Zephyr slid to a stop in Lincoln, just after 1:00 a.m. In the cold Nebraska night outside the steel Superliner cocoon, University of Nebraska students and hangers-on stumbled out of the Haymarket District bars adjacent to the Amtrak station. Young men and women, clad in assorted red jackets, red sweaters, and/or red Cornhusker baseball caps eyed each other, circled each other, with varying degrees of wariness and interest. Inside the blank stainless walls of Car 0615, the four lovers in the warmth of the small changing room presented a sharp contrast with the bleak scene around their train.
Had Hans and Katherine been paying attention, they would have seen Marie's half-closed eyes, concentrating on the sensations, half-watching this wonderful man's head and shoulders as he pleasured her. They would have seen his hands moving over her thighs, steadying her hips as he kissed her, learning to sense her favored places in the tension building beneath his fingertips. They would have seen Marie's hands moving to caress his shoulders, tracing the outlines of his muscles as they moved to please her.
"Put your tongue in me," she urged him. Jack had never probed so intimately before, but everything about this seemed right. Her hands were steady on his shoulders, but he felt her excitement in her touch, in her breathing, in the way her perfume pulsed out around him. He slipped into her opening, tasting her, circling it from inside with his pressure. She shuddered momentarily, and Jack began to pull back.
"No, it's nothing, it feels so good!" She gently pressed his shoulders, guiding him back to herself. She was sure now that he was relatively inexperienced in pleasing a woman, but she was also sure now that he was ready to learn. Her joy in that sent a surge of electricity through her loins, and he felt it, too. As her need built, her hand slipped from his shoulder to touch her clitoris.
With experienced fingers, she took the edge off of her jumpiness in a moment, tingling at the multi-sensations enchanting her. Suddenly he was conscious of what she was doing and he looked up at her. In reassuring whispers she told him that this was just right, that he was doing the perfect thing already.
Now, a question darted across his face, and she gave him the answer in a nod, her lips parted in a kissing look. He moved his lips to the tip of her senses. She felt the awaited thrill circling out through herself. His hands seemed to be everywhere, and welcomed everywhere, while his tongue and lips circled her clit. She pictured the strong waves overlapping within her, washing through him.
"Jack," she gasped, "it's time for you to come inside!" He rose and stood before her, before embracing her. His staff pressed against her tummy as she leaned against the counter top. This was beautiful and it was awkward. Marie fretted to herself at this moment. The counter was too narrow for her to sit on, Jack was strong and tall, and in this way, a virile, lanky American cowboy was not going to fit her solid French figure!
She turned a blushing red all over, which Jack interpreted as passion. Perhaps it was, as the complications defined her need even more strongly. His close kisses in their embrace grew hotter, and she felt his penis flexing, moving about in search of her entrance. His balls felt wonderful slipping over her vulva as he struggled to find the right position, but it seemed to her that this sensation increased the chances of him coming too soon!
Worst of all, as her fears began to bubble up like Perrier, she suddenly realized that she had a national reputation to uphold. Across the small room, the lusty Germans were heating up the space. Her purple satin had been the color of French style. She hadn't thought of that before, but now the whole weight of national pride was on her shoulders.... or perhaps, off her shoulders and her hips, crumpled on the blanket.
Over Jack's shoulders, she saw the Germans moving fluidly together, Hans' steely skill consumed perfectly by Katherine's fervent desire. And then, from somewhere in her subconscious, a solution emerged.
"Sweet Jack," she murmured. Let's try something different." It was a risk, she realized, as he pulled back from her.
"You try leaning against this counter, and I will surround you." She carefully avoided telling him that she would be "over" him, as she wondered whether he had ever experienced that situation before, wondered whether he would be willing to take a woman's suggestion.
Moving easily, Jack squeezed past her, and leaned back against the counter edge. His face flushed as her eyes took in the length of his figure. His erection pointed straight up as a delightful result of the angle which the counter supported him, and she caught herself licking her lips.
"Hey, I thought MEN were supposed to be the visually-stimulated ones," he stage-whispered. They both laughed.
His position was perfect to meet Marie's overwhelming need to hold him to herself, to capture this Westerner's energy. She stepped forward, bringing herself around his legs, enjoying their roughness inside her thighs.
Without words, they both reached forward, and held hands. His strength steadied her against the motion of the train, but even with his support, she found herself moving in unwanted directions at times.
This seemed to have a positive effect on him, as her catlike rebalancing moved her curves in new ways. His eyes were riveted on her, entranced by her purposeful approach. Behind her, Katherine had begun moaning with concentrated passion, but now her cowboy never took his eyes from her. She felt a leap of confidence. Somewhere, the tricolor was flying higher in the sea breeze off the Camargue, horses were splashing in foaming surf, and the sun was a strong ring of fire in the dark blue sky.
