California Zephyr Ch. 03

Train 5, Car 0535, Bedroom E

[I had never experienced such an emotional involvement with my research before. Therefore, parts of this are written in the first person. - Richard ___________, PhD formerly with the University of _______________.]

On the evening that Karen had left Galesburg, she sat in her sleeping car compartment for awhile with the lights off, watching night fall over Iowa. She enjoyed the sight of glowing farm kitchens, a farmer working on his truck, children playing on a porch, a shade-pulled bedroom. Occasionally a bright light would shine into the car, illuminating her blonde hair. When this would happen, she found herself looking at the dull-colored, old-fashioned ring on her right hand. An observer, had their been one, would have seen her serious expression. In the corridor outside her room, muffled voices came and went.

As the panorama streamed past, she tried to put together the events of her trip, especially the events since finding the ring that her grandmother had left her. It seemed as though the metal band had some magic to it, but Karen had a scientific bent, and that did not seem believable. Her whole body still tingled and there was a warm feeling deep inside her when she thought about her experience with Fred in Galesburg. But perhaps that was just Fate? Perhaps it was just coincidence and horniness? She laughed at herself.

Just then she was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was the train passenger services chief with dinner reservation slips. She selected one for the 7:15 p.m. seating. That was really the only convenient one left by this time, but she had also learned that few families with children took that seating. Not that she didn't like kids, but.....! "Who will I be seated with?" she found herself wondering. Science. If something was going to be proved, she'd have to be able to reproduce it again. Karen smiled at the idea, but it made sense. A plan formed in her mind.

The thought of picking up a man in a bar had never seemed very attractive to her before. This was different, however. People didn't head for the dining car to get picked up. They expected pleasant conversations at the best. If the ring really had some magic power, based on what had happened in Galesburg she would find the experience enjoyable and worth remembering, and the conversation would reach beyond pleasant.

She stood in front of the full-length mirror in the compartment and looked at herself. She was dressed casually for the night, wearing a blouse and designer jeans. She unbuttoned the blouse and slipped out of the jeans, and stood again in front of the mirror.

"No, not quite right," she murmured to herself, as she stripped off the comfortable underwear. The train lurched momentarily, and she steadied herself. The strange sensation of her bare hip on the carpeted bulkhead reminded her of how odd this moving world was. Out there in the night, strangers were looking after her safety, moving her toward her goal, waiting to serve her needs.

"All but a few needs, anyway!" she laughed to herself. She rummaged around in her bag for a minute, and then picked a matching, blue lace set that would set off her blondeness. Her City lingerie purchases served her well, she thought, as she laid out the cloth confections. It would be an exciting discovery for some man, no, THE man, on this train who would be right for this night. She took a washcloth and cleaned off the dust and perspiration of travel, and then applied her favorite body lotion. Its fragrance filled the tiny room.

"In the interest of science," Karen smiled to herself as she slipped into the blue lace and then re-dressed in the casual clothes. She took the ring and placed it on a chain, and lowered it over her head, enjoying the cool feeling as it slid down to nestle in her bosom. She went to the dining car clean, without makeup. No one except the man that she would select would know the excitement which her choice of lingerie symbolized, she thought. She was waved into the diner as the train rumbled over the long span into Burlington, crossing the Mississippi. There were several singles and couples waiting, and the steward was grouping them into what he hoped would be compatible table seatings.

[Author's notes: In my interviews with her later, Karen told me that she had anticipated that the dining car supervisor might try to seat her with someone NOT in her objectives for this evening.]

She was pleasantly surprised to see that the supervisor was a woman, just a little older than herself. There had been a bit of a wait in the lounge car while the previous seating finished up, and during that time, she had focused her thoughts on the small, but energetic Mexicana, and what she hoped she would do.

Karen was pushing the ring idea to the limit, picturing three "eligible" men sitting at her table, with an attentive waiter and good conversation. She also tried picturing one of them tipping the supervisor quite well for the opportunity to be seated with her, something that she knew was rarely done on trains. The ring was warm now from her body's closeness, but she imagined that it responded with greater warmth.

Despite these hopeful and purposed thoughts, she was pleasantly surprised and then thrilled to see the supervisor smile knowingly at her, and then be seated at a table with three single men. I was one of them, and the oldest. As you know, I am a college prof, out in the job market at this time. There was Cam, a diamond-buyer who was about 31, and quite good-looking, and Hans, a German tourist who was about 24. We were all pleased to see Karen being seated with us, although each of us wished that the others were somewhere else.

If the ring worked, it would be helping her to pick someone for a wonderful evening, she supposed. That carried over into a glow that made her even more alluring than she already would have been. Each of us found our thoughts turning away from food, and our minds were filled with lovely images of Karen. Tearing the cellophane wrapper off of a package of Club crackers became a sensual act. Wine glasses were raised in rollicking toasts, as each of us men tried to top the others' brilliance.

I was squeezing Ranch dressing out of one of the little plastic packages onto my salad when I realized that Karen was watching me. I squeezed more slowly, and left the opening smaller than I should have. The white liquid creamed out in a potent spurt. Karen laughed and licked her lips. Then we all laughed, and I felt my manhood stirring as her attention focused on me. But Cam and Hans had their moments, too. Golden Hans had exciting stories to tell about his travels, and he was definitely in shape for the Colorado ski trip that he was ticketed for. Cam, I learned later, reminded Karen of her former boyfriend, except with the rough edges smoothed away. And he had an original and penetrating sense of humor that she found intriguing. His thoughts stuck in her mind. She found herself thinking more and more about his part in our scene.

As her mind zeroed in on Cam, she found herself still wondering about the ring. She still did not completely believe that this was not all psychological. Yet, here she was, sitting chatting with a man who seemed to be everything that she wanted. She must have blushed thinking about him, she thought, because he gave a quick and knowing grin in her direction. He cooperated in the conversation, she noticed, making sure that she was a part of it.

Their legs brushed each other's beneath the table. Really it was accidental, the motion of the train, she thought. But she did not move her leg, and they both found that the comfortable vibration of the train gave them a cozy feeling.

"Did you know that our engineer tonight is a woman?!!" we heard an outraged muttering from another table. The train ride didn't feel any different to me. "Some sort of New England name, Sara-Jane something-er-other. A woman with a name like that shouldn't BE in a man's job!"

"And where are you headed, young man...." an elderly lady asked a child. All around us there were conversations going on. I could have been part of one of those, and would have enjoyed them or been amused by them, or argued in them. But now I was feeling like a third wheel.

Karen was not a cruel person. Her sense of experiment did not extend to leaving Hans and I high and wet for the evening, fortunately for us. She wondered how she could focus on Cam, without ruining the wonderful camaraderie at this table.

The waiter was smoothly removing the main dish plate when he nearly crashed into a handsome, young blonde, who tried to duck behind him. He deftly swerved, missing her, but she fell toward our table. As Hans caught her, her low-neck t-shirt gave us a wonderful view of well-shaped breasts, especially easy to check out because she was braless.

"Oh! Excuse....." she started to say, and then she stood bolt upright. She reminded me of one of my coeds, looking so fresh and full of energy. Her freckles were highlighted by the tan which she had acquired in some outdoor recreation. Her fingers, clutching the edge of our table to steady herself, showed signs of chapping.

"Hans!" she exclaimed, with a German accent. He looked blankly at her for a moment, and then a big smile crossed his face.

"Katherine!" This 19-year old woman was the little girl from next door in Zehlendorf, he explained to us. He hadn't seen her since her early teens, when she was "sehr schlank!" I let my eyes cruise lazily over the "little girl" with the big curves. She looked somewhat boldly back at me, but then turned her high beams on Hans.

Their conversation spilled excitedly back and forth between German and English. Katherine was in America on a scholarship, but she was now on her way to ski in Colorado, too. They were both ticketed for Winter Park! Cam offered to move, so that Katherine could sit down. Karen gave him a hard look, which he did not notice. Hans suggested that he would love to stay with us, but he and Katherine had many things to talk about. She had come in late and had been seated by herself. Hans would move to her table. The waiter showed no surprise.

The train slid to a stop in Mt. Pleasant. I saw one passenger waiting to board, bundled against the cold, likely an adult woman, but otherwise hard to make out in the snow and darkness. My thoughts drifted to my own situation, how much I yearned for the company of women my own age. In my college teaching I had continually met lovely young partners, and had kept telling myself how great that was, but now, forced into time to think, I had begun to realize how empty that was. But the women that I longed to meet now were as remote as the one whose shape I had just seen on the station platform.

Karen looked out on the same scene and seemed to focus her thoughts somewhere outside the window. I saw her smile, and then our attention turned again to our smaller circle around the table. The ice cream on my apple pie came in a firmly packed scoop. It rolled around a bit, round and creamy. Everything was making me think of sex, and I looked up from it at Karen's chest, and then into her eyes. They were sparkling, and she smiled.

"You are thinking of something that distracts you, professor?" She chuckled. Was I that obvious?

Cam, Karen and I had somehow become old friends during dinner. She had learned of my academic interests (note to myself: other than my extra-curricular activities, but perhaps the ring knew of that part?). Cam was an executive in a diamond importing firm in San Francisco. He had been pressured by colleagues to take the plane on this trip, but he apparently had an independent mind, and had wanted take some time off. I realized moments later that Cam was expressing his delight at being among the select by caressing her knee under the table. I squirmed uneasily, beginning to feel like I might be needed elsewhere. Karen half closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself take in the soothing sensation, imagining that waves of warm feeling were emanating from her secret treasure, and then she pulled herself up and looked squarely at me.

"In a few minutes," she asserted to me, "that woman who was waiting in Mt. Pleasant is going to walk in here to get something to eat. You will meet her, and you will find that the two of you are terrifically compatible. You are going to use all of your talent to make love to her tonight." Karen seemed stunned herself at her boldness. I gave her a skeptical look, and said nothing. I wondered how I would meet the woman, since she would be seated at a different table.

"I can't picture myself coming up to her and reporting that to her," I finally told Karen. Cam's caresses had migrated to her inner thighs, and while she looked comfortable, I was feeling less so.

"I don't know how it will happen, but it will," she sighed. The sigh might have been reflective, or it might have been from enjoyment. Her stocking-clad foot was out of her shoe, sliding it up Cam's leg. I started to look over my check, preparing to pay my bill and exit from my new three's-a-crowd situation.

Almost on cue, a dark-haired woman in her late 30's walked in, and was shown to an empty table. Without the bundling, and in the light of the dining car, she was quite lovely. Her black hair was nicely styled, and she wore more jewelry than my coeds did. It looked just right on her, especially her necklace, which rested on the wonderful, large curves of her decolletage. She caught my glance, and gave me a direct, warm smile back.

Karen watched, then grinned at me, enjoying her secret of the ring. The woman ordered coffee and then concentrated on selecting items and filling out her dinner check. Still disbelieving, I started to leave, but Karen shook her head at me. Suddenly my thoughts overflowed with images of Karen, of Cam, and of this stranger, thoughts of us all in various sexual poses!

I sat at my place for a moment, and as I tried to think of what to do next, the train chief came into the car and headed straight to the dark-haired woman. He had a sheaf of print-outs in his hand, and a disappointed look on his face.

"Sophia ___________?" he addressed her by her full name, reading off of his notes. The dark-haired woman acknowledged that she was Sophia. "I'm sorry to report to you that all of the sleeper rooms are sold out tonight. There were no last-minute cancellations. Thanks for considering an upgrade, though." Sophia looked very disappointed. As the crew chief left, I made my move. Karen gave me a thumbs-up sign. Cam's eyes never left our blonde tablemate: she could have waved a railroad flare and he never would have noticed.

Filled with a new boldness, I stepped over to Sophia's table, introduced myself and admitted that I had overheard her problem with the sold-out sleeping car space. You reading this probably would not have been surprised if she had laughed out loud at my proposition that she spend the night in my two-berth deluxe bedroom, rather than spending the night in a coach seat. I would not have been surprised if she had called for the dining car supervisor and had me tossed off the train in Creston.

Yes, she did laugh, but it was a warm laugh, full of appreciation for the unlikeliness of my suggestion. She wasn't sure about my offer, but she invited me to sit down and chat a bit. I learned that she WAS the lone passenger who had boarded at Mt. Pleasant.

I told her a little about my work. It was not glamorous sounding, but as we talked, I felt a bridge being built between us. Sophia was genuinely interested; she asked good questions.

On impulse, I looked back at Karen and Cam, meaning to let Karen know that she had been right. They did not notice, having progressed to what an anthropologist colleague of mine had called the "copulatory gaze". Both of them were feeling that their clothes were becoming very uncomfortable at that point. They were ready for the check, NOW.

Sophia noticed me looking at them, and suggested that perhaps it was time for all of us to head back to the sleepers. There was a certainty in her voice that increased my excitement about her. Was this prediction of Karen's really working?

"Sophia, wait a moment. There's something I have to tell you." I stopped her as she began to work out her check. Karen and Cam had paid up and were walking quickly back to her car. Sophia looked up at me expectantly, pencil poised. I told her a sketchy outline of my thoughts about how I would never meet the mature woman that I now knew that I needed, and about Karen's prediction that things would work out between Sophia and me.

Sophia was fascinated, rather than being turned off by this news. She took a deep breath, which moved her breasts in an enticing way.

"And this is just in the interests of developing a friendly relationship?" she queried. A smile flitted across her lips. I assured her that it was, as I shifted to let my hardening penis fit more comfortably in my briefs. The waiter interrupted her before she could comment, taking away her payment.

She arched an eyebrow with lascivious humor at me, smiled her dazzling smile, and led me in the opposite direction of the sleepers.

"We have to get my things," she explained. In the coach, some passengers were already trying to get to sleep. A college couple shared a beach blanket in one pair of seats, snuggling close to each other, all four hands out of sight. A mother and child fussed with a favorite kiddy blanket, getting set for the night. Shades were pulled by most seats, but where they were open, crossing lights streamed by in the darkness. I helped Sophia carry her stuff up from the baggage shelf and back down through the diner to the sleepers.

As I followed Sophia through the corridors and aisles, the engineer was getting a high green signal. "Sara-Jane" slipped her gloved hand down over the erect throttle, moving it firmly into the top "Run 8" notch. The diesel vibration in the engine's cab pushed through her as the train surged forward on the straight track of America's heartland.

Hitting switchpoints as the train accelerated, the car swayed, and an athletic-looking man coming toward us struggled to keep his balance. Sophia gracefully kept her poise, swinging her hips aside so that he never touched her.

She must have read my mind. As I steadied myself by grabbing at the corridor bulkhead, she turned back and flashed that smile, "I go back and forth from Mt. Pleasant to Denver on this train a lot."

"You must be quite a dancer, with that ability!" I didn't think that her fluid motion came from train-riding alone.

"Maybe? I love folk dancing! I'm in a club that performs." She turned her head forward again, and I followed her with growing excitement.

Katherine and Hans were in the lower level of Sophia's coach. The German students had found one of the coach doorway windows open, and were un-Germanically breaking the rules by riding in the entry vestibule, enjoying the racket and breeze. They did not see us as they embraced, with Hans' arms holding tight to his home-town discovery. He caressed her bottom, as her soft lips played music over his mouth. We kept going, but the thought occurred to me that it was a good thing that they were so near the well-upholstered uni-sex dressing room.

When we reached my room, we made another amazing discovery. I opened the door and stepped inside to hold it open for Sophia. There in the place where one wall of my room should have been were Cam and Karen! Karen was leaning against another wall, with Cam pressed tightly against her, his hands stroking her, her leg wrapping lustily around his.

I started to back out hastily, but Sophia, with a chuckle, pushed me back into the room. Karen and Cam separated, straightened their clothes, and blushed mightily. In their intense excitement, we learned, they had not even noticed that one "wall" of Karen's room was gone.