Dressing Room in Car 0615 Ch. 03

Chatper 3: Hans und Katherine

Continuing a spin-off from the story of Karen and her grandmother's apparently magic ring, as described in other files in Literotica.

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Hans nearly jumped as Katherine's fingers, even ever so gently, touched his balls. The excitement with Karen at dinner in the dining car (see the third part of "California Zephyr" in Literotica) had built on all the random impulses that his libido had been accumulating on this long ride. And then Katherine's magical appearance and his discovery of her new-to-him maturity had built more pressure. The time in the vestibule, at the open window-- the lonely farmhouses flashing past, the thundering power of a passing freight, the force of the prairie wind-- it was a strange environment that had drawn them ever closer together!

Perhaps she had not noticed, but he had walked to the changing room like a cowboy. That was not because of the rocking of the train, it was because he was so full, so ready for the release to which she now led him. When his legs were pressed together, he ached, like a man who had come off of months on the open range.

He was in a most amazing moment. The absurdity of it almost made him laugh with joy. A beautiful Frenchwoman in sleek satin lingerie was looking squarely at him, knowingly, her tongue darting briefly over her lips before she caught herself. And what she saw was a glimpse of Hans' staff straightening steel hard, readying him for the approaching pleasure brought by the lips and the fingertips of his Zehlendorf neighbor, Katherine!

The room was quickly warm from the four lusty young people's presence. Hans wondered if the fact that the air was awash with their pheromones was adding to the experience-- or perhaps it was the cunningly selected French perfume from Marie. As her body warmed in preparation for Jack, her pounding pulse released the precious scent.

Katherine's touch riveted his wandering eyes back to her. She held his stiffening sacs in her strong hands, and kissed them. The restrained power in her tender hold on him sent a deep feeling of pleasure through his core, and he shifted noticeably on the tiny bench.

"Mmmmm. You like that?" Katherine's question sounded more like an answer as she paused to look up at him. His penis curved up above her, and her hair brushed against him as she turned her head upwards. Grazing strands teased his senses, and involuntarily, he flexed. A pool of silver formed on his tip, and then began to run down toward Katherine.

Without hesitation, her lips moved up his shaft to meet it. Hans felt every nerve on edge. She certainly must have been practicing this somewhere before, he told himself!

"Yes, yes," he murmured to her. "Go ahead. Your tongue is so lovely." Katherine gloried in this moment of perfect sensuality. Hans, who had always seemed so much in control, was about to lose himself at her command. Excitement built deep in her as she realized that he was desperate for her kisses. The taste of him completed the sensory image that had begun so long ago in the gardens of their homes. Eagerly, her tongue traveled to the source of this flowing spring.

Hans sighed, and then leaned over. Katherine felt a rush of pleasure as he whispered to her.

"Now, I remember the time when you were 16 and were eating that banana. I thought that I was imagining things!" His mind filled with the warm sensation of that summer: she was wearing a blue sundress, standing there by the flower bed. He told her how he remembered watching her watching him through the garden gate as she slowly, seductively peeled the yellow fruit, ran her tongue over its big curve, and then ate pieces of the ripe fruit pulled off with her lips. He had not given this thought again, had dismissed it as an improbable guess on his part, till now. Suddenly the picture was complete!

So, she realized, the only conflict between them had been their own ideas about the importance of the age difference between them. And now the passage of time had made that unimportant.

For a moment, Katherine thought of rising to kiss Hans on the lips. She wanted to have her jeans and her panties off NOW, for him to see all of her. In their haste, she was still partly clothed. She wanted now to look him in the eye as an equal, but at the same time, she reveled in the foreplay she was offering. His single-minded concentration on her was worth anything, and she discovered joy in exploring this strong man's tenderness.

It might not have seemed possible, but Hans felt his erection tightening, tightening. He wanted to draw her pants down those wonderful legs, he longed to penetrate Katherine, to explore this overlooked treasure. He wanted to invite her to his lap, to be the skillful lover.

But he could not wait.

Words tumbled around in his head, English, German, some French, but only a deep groan of pleasure came out as she licked the swollen head of his manhood. She captured it, sucking him into the warmth of her, gently touching the tender underside with her teeth.

Words vanished, and flooded with his hormones, Hans became in his mind a giant arrow, pointing upwards. Part of him struggled to hold back, but her tender ministrations left him no alternative. The muscles trained to maintain control now betrayed him-- relaxed momentarily in her soothing attention-- and when his clenching force returned it had the opposite effect of what he intended.

She felt the electric surge passing through her lover, exploding, as his legs closing tightly around her, his firm hands closing on her shoulders, his penis swelling within her lips, the wave of semen rushing toward her. She had not thought this out completely, had never taken a man past foreplay in this manner, and she found herself coughing and clearing her throat when the strong stream of white fluid rushed into her mouth. In combination with the motion of the train, she almost lost her balance from the surprise, but Hans steadied her.

Tenderly, his hands stroked her neck. She looked up at him and saw the concern in his eyes.

"Mmmmmmm. Hans, the banana never did that!" she joked, and the momentary tension faded. She returned to his shiny penis, again encircling it, sucking it, taking a taste of him. She would remember that moment, his unique flavor, forever.

Even in the inviting coziness of her lips, even with the clever joys offered by her probing tongue, Hans' erection began to fade. Tentatively at first, as if not sure, it relaxed, and then it was gone. Katherine let him graze past her lips, and he dropped away.

Slowly, she rose before him, within his outspread legs. Off to her left, she became aware of urgent whispers in French, whispers which, though she did not know that language, still spoke of attraction, and then of a sensuous woman going out of control around the hard rock of her lover's excitement.

This was not exactly how she had imagined it. On those lonely nights at home behind the frilly curtains in her bedroom, the virile Hans had come to her in dreams, caressing her, cuddling her. Then she had stretched out catlike before him, and she had watched the muscles in his loins and thighs ripple as he came over her. Most of all, she had imagined the point of his pride brought to insistent readiness by her kisses.

Now she stood before him, her own hot desire unquenched. Her vagina dripped from the intensity of her feeling, moistening her panties uncomfortably. Hans caught the flash of worry as it played across her face, and took her hands in his.

For what seemed like a long time, he looked into her luminous eyes. His eyes wanted to glide over her ripe breasts, wanted to round the curves of her hips between his legs, wanted to glance at her secret triangle. But he concentrated on her eyes, and she felt his deep interest in her, that he understood her need.

"Katherine, I want to see all of you." He motioned toward her jeans. She knew that the feminine glory of her body was an instant object of men's desires; she had liked that feeling at the FKK club at Cap d'Agde just last summer. When she had stepped out onto the French beach, the reactions of the other supposedly blase' nudists told her that she was special. Men had clamored foolishly to be the one that she would choose. They all wanted her to join them in the special place at the end of the beach.

But now, Hans, her dream Hans, would know that she was special.

Gracefully, she managed to slip out of the tight-fitting pants. His hands caught her waist, held her for a moment against the sway of the Superliner, and then stretched her panties down over her hips. Her golden triangle emerged, riveting his eyes to her. He leaned forward and kissed her belly.

Hans saw no tan lines. Her hair was set off against a brown that did not stop. On the other hand, he realized, she had taken care of her skin, and it was smooth and supple. The tiniest movements of her muscles showed as delicate ripples.

"Here, sit on my lap for a minute," Hans invited. Nothing else to do, and wanting to maintain the intimacy for a few more minutes-- Katherine stepped out from between his legs and did as he asked, draping herself over him.

She was uncomfortable, feeling strange and uncertain. But now, the confidence in his voice carried her over that.

"Take me in your hand," he told her, "and caress yourself with me here." He indicated her vulva. Awkwardly, as he showed her, she took his reticent manhood in her hand. Her fingertips touched his balls, which lolled lazily, ignoring the sensation that would have sent an electric charge through them minutes before.

He saw that she was puzzled, and he leaned to whisper in her ear. "Just humor me, I love the feeling of touching you in this way."

The tone was self-teasing, but also assured. In his arms, with his lips now visiting hers, enjoying more the intimacy with him than any conscious thought of having him sexually, she almost absent-mindedly touched his moist penis to her still yearning tender folds.

His last pulling back had squeezed out a clear string of his honeyed fluid, and as she touched his velvet head to herself, it unwound within her. They both felt a renewed wave of feminine heat poured out from her inner source.

Even in its relaxed state, his sensitive tip delighted in the tour of Katherine's folds. She found the new sensation pleasant, caught herself wondering where he had learned to do this, and supposed that he had learned this approach in his travels. Hans loved both the immediate feeling and the thought of what was to come.

He leaned forward, whispering in her ear, taking her attention away from what her hand held. He was speaking in German, and quietly she told him how wonderful those familiar sounds felt after so many days in this foreign country. The whole trip now seemed dreamlike, and it had brought her here, into this tiny room, into his steady embrace.

She let the intimate words in her mother tongue slide over her, catching enough of them against the rumble of the Superliner to realize that Hans was telling her about herself. He was remembering far more of their days in the tree-shaded streets of Zehlendorf than she had supposed he could. She felt the bond between them growing stronger as each whisper reached her.

The thrill of finding out his secrets, how much he knew of her, drew her attention ever more strongly. His confidence in his sexuality was exciting, too. How had this happened? He knew so much about pleasuring her-- was that good or bad? And if it was bad, why did it feel so good? Dreamily, she began to tease herself with Hans' organ, and in her focus on his words, on his eyes, on his arms surrounding her, she did not even notice that it no longer was the pliable tool that had been so easily guided.

In her whispered reply, she told him of writing his name over and over again on school notepaper, remembering how she had taken colored pens and expanded on it with ever-bolder hearts and flowers, till the page could take no more.

Hans felt his balls end their lazy relaxation; they tightened with renewed seriousness. Katherine's hand was drawn away from them by his upswinging penis. She began to have difficulty in manipulating it. Without a word, as she raptly listened to his whispers, she let it glide upward in her hand. It slipped between her suddenly trembling fingers.

She leaned forward slightly, placing a hand on his shoulder while the other held his manhood in the center of her warmth. She felt herself reaching out to him from within, and she began to move gently against him, taking the train's rocking motion one step further. The contact was perfect, as he grazed her lips and her now-taut clitoris. Her hands steadied as she held him in her warmth.

Somehow the irresistibly contrary demands of love and sex caught up with her again. It felt so wonderful this way, her love would have the moment go on forever. And yet it felt necessary, his penis was so tall now, that she had to follow it all the way up. And now it fit so smoothly at the edge..... he felt the ring of her cervix opening around his engorged head......

"Immer richtig!" he sighed aloud, ending his whispers.

As she suddenly came out of the trancelike swirl of his words and their memories, she realized what had happened. A tremendous surge of joy swept through her. She looked at him for a moment, all of him, this handsome man absolutely ready for her now, and then came down around him.

"I'm going to keep my eyes open," Hans asserted. "I promise that I will fill my mind with only you."

His voice shifted what seemed to be an octave lower as he spoke the last words. Katherine giggled, and then the giggle folded into a throaty laugh, which Hans felt deep within himself. The bronzed couple's muscles flowed as if they were dancers; a new round of lovemaking began.

She had not understood at first what he meant about keeping his eyes open, but as they moved together, she began to realize how wonderful it was. His eyes were at once like another pair of hands caressing her, and yet also she felt more. Hans was looking into her soul.

She felt his eyes following the flush of her neck, she saw them drinking in the beauty of her full bosom, his eyes followed her curves to the strongly-outhrust nipples that she grazed against his chest. His eyes traveled down her stomach, watching the muscles flexing as she caressed him within herself. His eyes rested on their lovely junction, watching as she took him in, watching as their hairs together tangled in intricate curls.

That was understandable, enjoyable, and it would have stirred her lust without more help. But beyond that, his eyes rose to meet hers. Their blue seemed to pierce her as he held them open while they kissed. She blushed more strongly than ever as she realized that it was so difficult to kiss him with her eyes open. They were seeing every tingle of their passion played out, and she saw that he was loving each movement that she made. Out of the corner of her eye, she realized that Jack and Marie were grabbing for their clothing. Totally intertwined with Hans, she looked questioningly into his eyes.

"We should be polite and say good-bye to them," Hans said in German. Then in English, "the sooner they go, the sooner we come!" They laughed together-- she found that their interlinked laughter gave a sensation she had never experienced before.

As Hans and Katherine watched, Jack embraced Marie 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, Katherine realized. Yes, the odd pair in "their" room were glowing, perspiring, and their hair was mussed up. But there was something else.

It was the way that they approached each other, Katherine whispered to Hans. Jack's embrace was confident, but relaxed. Marie's was open, but also strong. They knew each other.

They held each other for too long, Hans thought, the Frenchwoman's purple-clad loins against the cowboy's white cotton. When they finally separated, Hans and Katherine could see that the American would have taken her again had time allowed.

Jack gave Marie's 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 breasts 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, she admitted to herself, the American was not bad looking.

Jack and Marie blew the intertwined couple kisses, and quickly stepped out the door. Marie's perfect perfume trailed past Katherine like a flaunted battle flag, and Katherine felt again that Marie had thought that she was in command of the scene. The cool air in the vestibule drew the heat out of the dressing room, taking the scent of France with it, and Katherine shivered.

It didn't matter-- she had Hans. Leaning way back, she reached the latch and re-clicked it shut. Hans' eyes drank in her limber stretch, as graceful as in a ballet.

In the snowy night, a trackside observer saw only the stainless steel flash of the California Zephyr's powerful engines slamming through a snowdrift east of Holdredge, Nebraska.

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The story of Hans und Katherine comes to a climax in a fourth file in Literotica.

My special thanks to HSX members Alexandra on German matters, Janet on French issues and to the helpful hints from die Kuschelecke.