Dressing Room in Car 0615 Ch. 02

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.

They were looking into each other's eyes, when her vulva grazed his rolling balls, and the divine shock of their renewed contact sent a jolt through him. Before he could think, he flexed his penis and a stream of softening precum flowed over him.

Then she was holding him against herself, firmly within the folds of her triangle first, then gently letting his hardness graze against her clitoris. She moved over him, fascinated with the wonder of something now so hard having the touch of velvet on her most sensitive place.

His eyes tracked the ruby flush as it spread from her throat, followed it down her breasts, watched nipples that he thought were already erect harden to strawberry gumdrops as her desire turned to focused lust. His kisses followed as he leaned forward, each breast cherished as he held them cupped in his hands, lovingly teasing the nipples with kisses and then twirling his tongue over them.

She should hold this moment forever, she thought. In this position, she anointed herself with his overflowing fluid, and then held his manhood perfectly against herself. Smoothly, they floated through the frothing surf in her mind, barely breaking the surface.

"We can't stop here!" she found herself saying in French.

"Non!" She exclaimed. Why had she burst out with that?

Somehow, even though he spoke no French, Jack knew it was their time, and pulled his pelvis back. His muscled movement took her hand willingly with his hard member, and she found herself holding him at the edge of her opening.

Why did those words escape from her? A part of her mind was angry at herself, wanted the elegant work with the perfect tool to continue, but another part of her was guiding actions now. She trembled involuntarily at the touch of his wet tip in her circle, and then she sighed with the satisfaction of feeling him fill each centimeter of her.

Like a swimmer pushing off from the edge of the pool, he pushed firmly to her center from the blanketed counter's edge, effortlessly taking powerful strokes in the ripples of their mingled fluids. Her eyes closed, opened, half-closed as the magic overflowed her senses and her body became a part of him.

His arms were around her, and in their supportive freedom she was leaning forward, tasting his lips in a deep kiss, unafraid of the Superliner's rocking motion. His upward thrusts grew stronger, and in his strength she was lifted from the floor. It didn't matter. Desperately, she broke their kiss to unleash crazy, urgent whispers in French, whispers which he seemed to comprehend in his passion with his heart, and then with his manhood. His balls tightened under her, and the scent of him suddenly grabbed her. She felt herself going out of control, tightening on him. His precum had stopped, and the friction in her vagina sent them to the edge together.

"I must come!" he whispered urgently. Once again a part of her wanted to go on, to make this last, to savor him as a gourmand of love. But the other part of herself heard his statement as a command, and that part of her took it as the permission it craved. The walls of her vagina vibrated to unwritten music, sending his virile form a message written somewhere back in time.

They exploded in every direction. Words in both languages tumbled about in their minds. She pictured the part of her that wanted this to go on forever struggling to hold on, then slipping away, replaced by the part of her that exulted in the joy of feeling his white rush founting upward and becoming a part of her. The seafoam swirled again in her imagination. His thrusts subsided, but he remained inside her glowing body yet. Her feet were touching the ground again, she suddenly realized. When had that happened? She could not tell.

"Wow!" he said.

"You always know the right thing to say," she murmured. There was a little chuckle somewhere in her smiling tone.

"That's why I'm on the speech team!"

This time, they both laughed out loud. She felt a sense of wonder at the sensation of his laugh entering her, wished now that this moment could last. This man's power, his quick thinking in that tournament, and his love was all a part of her, and she of him. How would that continue beyond this tiny room?

"The right thing to say right now is the truth. We are going to have this moment in our minds for the rest of our lives!" Jack seemed to have divined her thoughts again.

Behind them, Hans' voice was heard shifting what seemed to be an octave lower. Katherine giggled, and then the giggle folded into a throaty laugh. The bronzed couple's muscles flowed like dancers as they began a new round of lovemaking.

"It looks like they'll remember this moment, too!" Marie suddenly found it easy to be with them in this crowded space. Jack's amused glance at the enthusiastic Germans had come quickly back to her. She felt his eyes caressing her as she moved back, and together they watched him slipping out of her, shiny with their fluids. His penis dropped away, still not completely flaccid. It moved as if independently interested in beginning again.

Suddenly Marie felt her practical side asserting itself. Hastings would be coming up soon. What if they were still down here, making love! What if their friends met them at the station and they were barely dressed when she and her lover alighted? There would be girlfriends to tease, to hint, to tell in due course, but she did not want to flaunt her cowboy.

Jack groped around on the counter and found his watch.

"Damn!" he exclaimed. "We'd better get moving." Neither of them, as it turned out, had been paying attention to the clock for a long time. They began struggling with clothing in the cramped room, trying at the same time to keep from stealing peeks at the totally entwined Hans and Katherine.

"Wait!" Jack took Marie by the hand. He was clad in his briefs, she was just slipping her panties snug around her waist. She looked up at him questioningly.

He embraced her, as he had done when they began, in front of the mirror, one last barely clothed kiss. Yet there was something different about this picture, she realized. Yes, they were glowing, perspiring, and their hair was mussed up. But there was something else.

"A woman would notice this, but not a man," she mused aloud.

"What's that? You look great in our mirror snapshot," he said.

It was the way that they approached each other, she explained to him, not their appearance. His embrace was confident, but relaxed. Hers was open, but also strong. They knew each other.

They held each other for too long, her purple-clad loins against his white cotton. When they finally separated, she could see that he would have been ready for her again, and she felt herself warming for him.

Time and social pressure bore down on them, however. He gave her breast a playful kiss, and then reached behind himself on the counter for her bra. They helped each other finish dressing, and then prepared to slip out of the room.

"Wait!" cried out Hans. They halted momentarily.

"This wasn't bad at all!" he grinned. A big, infectious grin. Katherine turned on his lap, twisting her trunk to look their way. She had a smile on her tanned face, too. Her white teeth sparkled in the contrast. Her chest and throat were slightly reddish from Hans' beard.

"Perhaps we'll meet again..." Katherine said that, hoping at the same time that it would not happen. She had her Hans now, and had no plans to share him. He felt her muscles closing around him. On the other hand, the American was not bad looking, she mused.

Jack and Marie blew the intertwined couple kisses, and quickly stepped out the door. The cool air in the vestibule attacked their senses. Around them, the stainless steel environment rang with the muffled noises of railbound motion. Marie thought for a moment that over all that, she heard an excited squeal from Katherine, but perhaps her imagination had just filled in that part.

They headed upstairs to collect their things.

"Hastings, next!" The conductor quietly called this out to them; they alone in the rows of sleeping figures in this coach were ticketed to depart this train in the dead of this night. Jack and Marie felt his friendly grin behind their back as they climbed out into the blowing snow.

A group of their friends were at the station to meet them, headlights cutting through the slanting waves of windblown white stuff.

"How was the trip?" a young woman asked.

Jack and Marie looked at each other.

"It was indescribable," Jack murmured.

"You always know the right thing to say!" Marie whispered.

The parallel story of Hans und Katherine approaches a climax in a third file next in Literotica.

With deep acknowledgement to Amtrak employees who suggested elements of this account, and to Dr. E________ __________ who kindly tested Marie's position herself. A basic element of good science is to be able to demonstrate that an exciting new experiment can be repeated, and my colleague E________ is a good -- scientist. Her lay assistant should be credited for his patience, as well.