In The Library Ch. 05

Several weeks after I had been with the owl girl it was the end of semester, and I was going back to my home town in the north of the state. Previously I had done the fourteen hour trip in the second class coaches on the train (sitting up or sleeping on the luggage racks), but this time I had booked a sleeper. As it was the winter break, the nights were long, and for most of the trip it would be dark. The sleeper would be a civilised way to travel.

So I made my way to the station, a grand stone building surrounded by parks and tall buildings. I had a good meal in the station restaurant, surprisingly good food and a couple of glasses of wine, and then made my way to the supermarket in the station concourse to buy some supplies for the night. I paid for the bag of goods, and then, on the way out, I reached for a newspaper.

As I did so I felt a strange lurch, as if the concourse had turned inside out, and me with it. A strange twist in the air and then it was all different. It was the same concourse, but the shops had shifted, the sounds of the place were muted and strange, even the quality of the light had changed. And then, like an old movie film, the world started up once again and the sounds returned to their normal level, and the light rippled and flickered and then settled. The paper was still in my hand, but the paper felt rougher, the ink dirty on my fingers.

This was very very strange but at the same time, not so. Somehow I felt I had been here before, at some time. But I also felt a strange nervousness that had not been there before, as if someone was watching me. I had to get somewhere away from eyes as soon as I could. The sleeper compartment would be ideal, then. So I made my way to the country line platforms, and was astonished to find that the trains were all headed up by huge steam engines instead of the thudding diesels I was used to. These things were like massive creatures, hissing and sighing to themselves. What the fuck was going on here?

But I needed to get on board the train as soon as possible so I made my way down to the sleeper carriages at the front of the train, coupled behind the loco and its massive tender. As I came up to the carriage door, a guard stepped onto the platform, dressed in an old style uniform, like something from an old movie, red trousers with a black satin thread down the seam, a black waistcoat and a dorky red pillbox hat on his head, with a rakish tilt.

"Welcome aboard sir, I trust you will be comfortable with us this evening. The train leaves..." and he flicked his cuff back from his wristwatch with a flourish, "in twenty minutes. The attendant will be along later to turn down your bed."

This all felt like some strange film set, and I was part of the cast. For I realised that I too was wearing what to me seemed like a costume, but judging by my fellow passengers, the latest fashion. For half a century ago.... But my nervousness was still upon me, and I needed to get hidden away in my compartment. The guard led me down the corridor and opened up a door. Inside, there was a long plush seat, high backed and running the whole length of the compartment. Opposite was a small table and a door, through which I could see a washbasin and another door, which I assumed was a toilet. Opposite the corridor door was the carriage window with a pull down blind.

I placed my bag of supplies on the seat - where the fuck did that paper bag come from? I thought I had a plastic bag from the supermarket.... I tossed the newspaper next to the bag and went through to the wash cubicle to rinse the ink from my fingers. A sign above the toilet warned "Do not flush while train is stopped at station." Now that made sense! After drying my hands, I slid up one of the windows and sat watching the activity on the next platform. The platforms were busy with passengers hurrying to board trains, porters with little wheeled trolleys moving back and forth, loading parcels and suitcases into carriage doors.

Up above, perching along the steel beams arching over the roof of the station, were hundreds of pigeons, grey and black, tawny brown, top knots bobbing; one or two pale albino white birds noticeable amongst them.

"All aboard, this train leaves in five minutes. If you are not travelling, please leave the train now." Down at the rear of the train I could see the red flag held by the guard. With a last set of running feet a late arrival jumped on board, and the carriage doors were all slammed shut with a loud bang. At the end of the train I saw the red flag dip down and a green flag raised high. The guard's whistle shrilled, and was answered by the loud blast from the loco up front, and with a massive huff and sigh, the train slowly started moving.

Startled by the noise, a flock of pigeons clattered into the air and flew alongside the window as the train accelerated past the platform, breaking away up into the sky as the train left the end of the station and click clacked onto the long lines of track. I settled back into the seat, glad finally to be moving away from the city. Soon the regular noise of the train and the roll of the carriage on the tracks lulled me into a light doze, broken by the occasional whistle as the train neared a crossing.

Knock knock. "Night attendant sir, to make up the bed." A young, high pitched voice from the attendant in the corridor. Bleary eyed, I opened the door, and a young woman entered the apartment. Like her conductor work colleague, she sported a red pill box hat covering blonde curls, a red jacket with brocade work down the front, three black buttons. The jacket was nipped in tight at the waist and flared delightfully over her hips. Covering her ass was a knee length skirt, also red, clinging tight. Her calves were clad in black stockings, low heeled shoes. She stood about five four, big blue eyes smiling up at me.

"I've come to make up the bed sir, is that alright?" Fuck yes, that was alright - she was gorgeous. "If you could just stand over there, sir, I'll just set the bed up for you."

And she reached to the side of the seats, her breasts stretching the fabric of her jacket most delightfully, and released a small lever. The back of the seat swung down, away from the wall, and rotated over the seat. A soft mattress lay in the narrow bed base which now swung into place, with several blankets and pillows piled on top. The girl swiftly moved them aside and pulled the crisp white sheets tight, placed the pillows at the head of the bed nearest the window, and tucked the blankets in place. She pulled down the blind on the window - it was now dark outside, the occasional light rushing past.

"There sir, that looks most comfortable. Let me just fix you a hot drink, would you like tea or cocoa, sir?" Jeez, I hadn't realised that the sleeper service came with these extras.

She disappeared into the wash cubicle and I could hear the rattle of metal against metal, and the clink of a spoon. And then she re-appeared, with a small tray in one hand, and her other hand resting on her hip, tilted high. She had removed her hat, and her honey blonde hair was still piled up high in a bun.

"Here sir, let me help you get comfortable." She placed the tray onto the small table, and moved closer to me, her stockings swishing as she walked. Placing her feet apart to keep her balance as the train lurched and bumped, she placed one red-nailed hand on my arm and started to undo the buttons on my shirt with the other, slender fingers deft and quick. Pulling up the bottom of my shirt tails from my trousers she peeled it from my back, carefully folded it, and placed it on a small shelf on the wall. She then kneeled in front of me, her red-lipped mouth only inches from my now swelling cock, covered by the cloth of my trousers.

Bending lower she loosened the laces of my shoes, then tapped one shin for me to lift my foot, and then the other. She neatly placed my shoes and socks under the shelf. "We can polish those for you in the morning, sir, you just need to leave them in the corridor."

Polishing my shoes was now the last thing on my mind, as she then deftly undid the buckle of my belt and twisted the buttons on my flies. Swiftly, she slid my trousers to my feet, sliding my smalls down with them. Smalls - what the fuck, I never call them that, but sure enough, that's what I was wearing. Or not wearing, because I was now standing naked before her, as once again she neatly and methodically folded my clothes. She turned away from me and quickly and efficiently turned down the covers of the bed.

"Please get into bed, sir, you will be much warmer under the blankets." This was just incredible, she was so efficient, but was ignoring my rampant prick. "Would sir like...."

Standing cute as a kitten in the tiny compartment, she reached to the pins in her hair and let her blonde waves fall to her shoulders. Swaying with the movement of the train, she slowly undid each of the three buttons on her jacket, revealing a crisp white blouse, nicely filled with her breasts, not too big, not too small. She shimmied the jacket off her shoulders and, forever efficient, hung it on a hook on the door. Now she trailed her fingers down her neck and down inside her blouse, teasingly. My prick throbbed at the sight of her fingers hiding behind the crisp cloth.

She slowly undid each of the buttons, gently separating the cloth and revealing a simple laced bra, filled with her gently rounded breasts, a shadow of cleavage, delicious and enticing. Again she hangs the blouse with her jacket, and smiles at me, her blues eyes sparkling, her blonde hair swinging. Turning coyly sideways, she tugged the zip on her tight red skirt and pulled it down over her curved hips, revealing a pair of high waisted knickers and a garter belt, straps clipped to the tops of her stockings.

I am dying with the visual pleasure of this strip tease, my cock hard and pulsing, each bounce of the carriage a bounce on my balls, each lurch of the wheels a friction of the smooth sheets against my skin. She slowly peels the sheer black stockings down her legs until she stands before me with her pale skin and white lingerie, tiny waist and full curved hips, beautiful breasts spilling from her bra. She stands there before me, swaying with the movement of the carriage, breasts shifting, her soft belly curved. She really is quite delightful.

"Would sir like me to warm the bed?" I am stunned and amazed at the service on this train, I'm gonna have to write a letter of thanks here! But before she slithers into the bed, she reaches behind her back and unclips her bra. My God, her bare breasts are pert and round, pink nipples jutting, an ever so fine down nestling in her cleavage. She then turns away from me and slowly peels her knickers down her legs, revealing the pert globes of her ass. Fuck, she really is gorgeous, beautifully rounded curves, sweet taut ass. And then she turns towards me, slowly. At the base of her belly her hair is soft blonde curls, a triangle of hair. And as she turns I see a glimmer of slit between her legs, plump pussy between her thighs, dark lips in the cleft.

And now she is nestling into the bed beside me, her curves wrapping themselves around me, her legs wrapping around mine, her warm breasts against my chest. We lie there, rocking together with the movement of the train, and our lips meet, tongues taste and probe each others' mouths. We are both gentle, this was different to the time in the tower, different to the times in the library, as if we both knew that this night, this trip, was a space between two times, a going from and a going to, a neutral time, an equal time. Our sweet joined up connected time, a truce between times, a truce between us. A memory time.

And she lay on her back and gently guided me into her, soft sex opening to me, my prick sliding into her warm wet pussy, her legs wrapping around my back, sweet cunt opening to me. And we lay coupled, the movement of the train rocking us rocking us, the steady beat of the wheels clicking time away, plenty of time, our joined together time, our from here to there time, from the past to the future time, all of the times blurring, time time time.

Time and again our tongues tasted our tongues, my cock pushed into her, her breasts pushed against mine, her hands gripped my ass, my arms held her under her shoulders, her legs wrapped around mine, and we held each other close, closer, time lost and timeless. And I loved her then, through that long night, journeying into the depths of her, sweet blonde girl just that one night.

And then the movement of the train took up a new urgency. The surge and roll of the carriage began to intensify as the engine started to work the long ascent up the mountain range, as if the steam and panting smoke of the loco was communicating itself to every part of the train, and every part of those travelling within. The girl's open cunny gripped my prick with a new urgency, her nails dug into my back.

Her legs moved up until they wrapped around my back, and her little hands grabbed my ass cheeks and pulled me further into her, cunt grasping, her tongue edging mine, the low moans deep in her throat started to match the rhythm of the lurching track. We fucked long and fast, holding each other tight, then pushing each other away so that hands could grapple breasts, fingers tug nipples, so that hands could trace smooth skin over our ribs.

Long, delicious deep sex now, smooth steady thrusts, her voice mewling with pleasure, her little cunt opening up like a precious flower, my long thick prick sliding on her juices. The scent of us filled the cabin like a drugged smoke, the taste of us on her fingers as she slid them over her clitoris, fierce, and then to my lips and her lips, sweet and honeyed on our tongues.

And then our pleasure came, together - her back arched and her head flung back onto the pillow, and her sex became her pivot, her centre. And my back arched and my head flung back into the air, the depths of my cock and the pressure in my balls became my centre; and with a massive repeating pulse our two centres became one as our orgasms ripped through us and into us and into each other.

And the train clattered on, long whistles echoing off the twisting hills as the train slowed on the curving track, the long steady hruff hruff of the smokebox became a constant beat in the night. And I collapsed onto her. My softening cock still inside her, we rolled on our sides, her legs twisted between mine, her arms and hands nestled between our bodies, one palm on my chest, her heat against my nipple. And my arms were around her in the long night, and the train rolled on in the long night, and the long night rolled on. Sleeping, we slept in each other's arms. And the train rolled on.

The night shortened into dawn and a low cold light edged under the window blind. And she was gone, her jacket and skirt and blouse no longer on the hook, her black stockings no longer draped over the table. But my clothes were neatly folded where she had left them. The cup still rested on the tray, never drunk, cold now. My shoes neatly together, her words, "you can leave them to be polished, sir..." echoing in my head. And there, by the edge of the window ledge, ruffling with the slight shift of air coming through a crack, there was single tawny blonde feather, incredibly soft and delicate, soft and lingering.

So not just a dream then? Not just a phantom on the air. And the thudding of the steam loco told me that time was still twisted, that this journey had a little time still to run. So I pulled on my neatly folded trousers and my shirt. As I did so, a clatter of metal on metal, and I looked down. A bright key had fallen from a pocket and fallen against the leg of the table. I picked it up and turned it over in my hand, wondering where it was from, what it unlocked. The maker's name, "Abloy" was engraved on its head. Not heard of that lot before, I wonder what they make keys for? No matter, and I slid the key into a pocket.

I still had an hour to ride before reaching my town, with just one five minute stop before then, to drop a mail bag. So I flipped the bed back around to get the seat back in its place, and picked up the paper. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the hell was this all about? For there, on the front page of the paper, was a photo of me. A crappy, grainy, out of focus picture, but my features could clearly be seen, and if someone knew me, I could clearly be recognised. Jesus, this was scary, because the damn picture was surrounded by a thick black frame with the words, "Wanted" printed across the top.

Wanted, in connection with disappearance of the heiress, Grace __________ If you see this man (and words to describe me) please contact Detective blah blah fucking blah.

Shit, no wonder old Mack reckoned he had seen my picture, the old fart had probably seen this one. Because the date on the paper was 7 July 1949. And I was a wanted man. Christ, no wonder I felt nervous when I got on this train, as if eyes were watching me. They probably were. I had to get off fast, just in case someone had seen me (the conductor, for example, those guys would see hundreds of people every day, but who knows how good their memory was for faces), and were waiting to pick me up when the train terminated. So I gathered my gear together, threw the paper on the floor, and hurried down to the carriage door.

I'd jump down on the track away from the platform when the train stopped to drop the mail bags, hopefully it would be a one-man station, and the crew would be busy. My heart beating hard I opened the carriage door ready to do this. The train groaned to a halt and I jumped down feet hitting the ballast already running. I quickly ducked behind an old shed, jumped a fence, and kept on into the trees. Catching my breath, I turned back to see train leave the station.

What the...? An air horn blasted the air, and the thump of the diesels that I was used to from previous trips rolled off the hills, black exhaust belching into the cold air. Fuck, a long walk then....

And on the train, fading back into time, the paper had fallen open on its last page. An advertisement shimmered to grey, but before it disappeared, the words could be seen: "Buy an Abloy padlock today. Your security guarantee. Never rusts, never fails, always safe, always secure."