Games on Trains

The train pulled out of New York and proceeded to pass through every slum in Jersey on its way south. On the way through jungles of garbage and burned-out buildings it picked up speed, reaching its cruising rate of somewhere around seventy miles per hour. Still, it would be a long ride to Orlando.

As soon as they announced the bar car was opened I made my way there, and took up a stool beside a man in a business suit who was obviously looking for something to do. He was a few years my senior and better dressed, but he had that same look of wanton adventure in his face I saw far too many times in the bathroom mirror while shaving. It was time to start the game.

"You look like you do this often," I said to him.

He tilted his glass and drained it. "What? Drink? Every damn day," he said.

I laughed a little. "No," I corrected. "Ride the train."

He waived his empty at the bartender, who immediately refilled it. Johnny Walker Red, straight up. I sipped at my beer.

"Only way to travel," he said. "Planes are nice, they're fast, but you lose the joy of the voyage. The trip is always as valuable as the destination."

Even though he delivered that last part like a quote from a greeting-card-store poster (probably with a picture of a cute kitten to boot), I couldn't agree with him more.

"Besides," he continued, leaning over conspiratorially, as if taking me into a confidence he rarely shared, "it's a lot easier to get laid on a train than in a jet screaming across the sky at God knows what rate of speed."

My eyebrows went up. Not from surprise at the subject, just the rapidity with which we had reached it. Conversations with strange men usually took a good five minutes before the topic of sex arose. I hadn't been clocking us, but I estimated only thirty or forty seconds had passed between us.

"It's the rhythm," he went on. "Does something to women's pelvises. It's the same rocking motion you use when you're tall in the saddle, get my meaning?" I understood him completely. "Makes 'em think about it more. They don't even realize how horny it makes 'em, 'till you got their pants off."

I stared straight ahead, which is to say I stared into nothing, and considered how many other, more genteel ways there were to convey the same idea. Still, I admired his crudeness. It was honest, albeit antithetical to romance. He played no parlor games with euphemistic words cluttering up the conversation. This was going to be easier than I thought.

"I take it you're not married," I said to him.

He showed me his left hand, gold band on the third finger included. "Twenty-one years next month," he said proudly. "Finest little lady I ever knew."

"So," I explored, "you only think about getting laid on trains?"

He nudged my arm. "No, son, I get laid just as often as I can. Trains, hotels, golf courses, you name it, I've done it. But trains are definitely the best. I'm on the road ten months out of every year. If I wait to get home my balls would explode in the meantime." He chugged his drink and laughed softly. "And the Missus is probably getting it on just as often while I'm gone. Can't blame her. What's she supposed to do, sleep with a carrot till daddy gets back?"

The idea birthed interesting visions. I smiled.

"How 'bout you, son, you married?"

I said I was, and showed him my wedding band, too. "Five and a half years," I told him.

He sniffed, indignant. "And I suppose you never had an unfaithful thought the whole time?"

I smiled and sipped at my beer. "I have had many indiscretions," I confessed readily. "But my wife and I have a unique relationship. We are very upfront about our detours."

He studied me. "You tell her when you fuck other women?"

"And she tells me about her men," I said. "We rely on honesty."

He suppressed a laugh. "Honesty will get you nothing but a shitload of trouble," he said. "Take my word. She tells you it's honesty, but she's just loading up ammunition for the big kill."

I knew he was wrong, but let the subject drop. The idea was not to debate some stranger about my lifestyle, but to observe another's technique. Switching gears, I asked him, "So, how do you go about deciding who to go after?"

Bill was glad to be back on top of the conversation. "It's their eyes," he said. "You wanna watch out for wide-open eyes, stay away from them. And eyes that dart about nervously, un-uh, no good. You want eyes that are half closed, relaxed." He scanned the room. "Now, there's a couple of likely young ladies," he said, and elbowed me again. I turned to look where he indicated with a nod of his slightly round head. At the far end of the car two young women sat at a small, round table, sipping something blue from frosted martini glasses. They looked to be more my age than his. One was a stunning redhead, the other a sleek brunette. The redhead was dressed in a white pants suit, the brunette in a floral print dress. They talked the way women do; they become so quickly at ease with each other and delve energetically into sharing confessions, whereas my new-found friend and I were still making verbal parries, feeling each other out.

"Not bad," I said.

"Not bad?" He laughed, more of a guffaw than anything else. "Son, you have high standards. Where I come from, they are Grade A Prime."

"Where's that?" I asked.

"Ohio," he said. "The Buckeye State. Home of some of the ugliest women in the country. That's why I love these East Coast trips. Beautiful women, and none of that California attitude. I have yet to take one of these train rides and not get lucky."

I grinned. "Then I'm glad I ran into you," I said. "I could use some luck in that direction."

My friend turned to study me for a while, assessing me with an appraising glare as if I were a used car and he was trying to decide if I was worth the investment or just a bundle of someone else's nightmares.

"You look okay," he finally said. "Smile for me."

I did.

"Not bad. It's that honesty thing. Women sense a man who can't keep a secret. Scares them." He studied me some more. "Maybe it's your approach. Now, take that brunette."

"Why not the redhead?"

"'Cause the redhead is mine, son. Now, take that brunette. Looks like a professional person, business lady, maybe a buyer for some store. Probably on a business trip, too. This business for you or pleasure?"

I told him I always try and mix the two.

"Good man," he said. "That should make this easier. Anyway, she probably appreciates a no-nonsense approach. No coy catch phrases, none of that cute pick-up line crap. Compliment her, but not too much. Let her do most of the talking, smile a lot, listen, and all the while imagine her buck naked. She'll see the look in your eye and know exactly what you're thinking. From there on, you let the train do the rest." He rocked side to side on his stool. "It's the rhythm of the railways, son. Works every time."

We introduced ourselves. I was Mike, from Connecticut, and he was Big Bill from Ohio. We each ordered one more round for ourselves and one for the two ladies, and as the bartender made his delivery we went to join them.

"Maybe I should try for the redhead," I whispered to him as we crossed the car.

"Out of your league," he quickly retorted. "Nobody fucks better'n a redhead. There's nothing so hot as a red-patched cunt. Tasty! Stay in the bleachers, son, the redhead's mine."

We were at their table. "Hope you don't mind," Big Bill said to them as we assumed our seats across from them. "But it's such a long and lonely ride to Florida. No sense us all going all that way by ourselves." He sipped his drink. "You two do go all the way, don't you?" he asked, and laughed. "To Florida, I mean?"

I was so glad he warned me about using corny pick-up lines. The redhead and I exchanged cringed looks. The brunette seemed fascinated, however.

She was Jill, and the redhead was Tina. Jill was a teacher on her way to a seminar on reading in Ocala. I figured that was close enough to a retail buyer. Tina said she was on vacation and didn't want to discuss business. Bill seemed thrilled.

"A woman of mystery," he said, making it sound like he'd found the Hope Diamond.

"No mystery," she said. "When I work, I work hard. And when I play...well."

She didn't have to finish the thought. Bill was hooked.

Jill and I talked about education for a while. Bill and Tina got to know each other better, talking about current events, entertainment, music, movies, and TV. They each had another round while Jill and I nursed what we had and shared insights into the effects the diminishing family structure in America was having on education. She was a very intelligent woman, besides being incredibly more attractive up close than she had been from across the car. Her features were petite, soft, framed in brown hair that rolled in flowing currents down the sides of her face. Her figure was elfin also, but that's the way I prefer women to be. The classic Playboy model is fine for a few seconds, but after you get past the silicone, what else is there? I always admire a woman who is proud of what she is and not so uncomfortable she transforms herself into somebody else's ideal just to get acceptance from strangers.

Bill leaned over to me at one point and warned me in a whisper that I was way off track. "Too much jabber about kids and schools," he said. "Cut to the chase."

"It's a long way to Florida," I told him. "What's the rush?"

He shrugged. "Well, suit yourself, but if you waste too much time on her and strike out there won't be enough time to pick out another."

Such a gentleman; concerned about my sexual well-being and we had only just met!

"I'll take my chances," I told him.

We invited the ladies to dine with us as the hour began to get late. We walked the five cars to the diner, and Bill excused himself to the nearest men's room (all that Johnny Walker backed up, I supposed) and he indicated I should go with him. Odd; I thought it was the women who always went to the bathroom together.

While he peed, he asked me what car my berth was in.

"I'm coach," I told him, and he nearly had a fit.

"What were you gonna do? Fuck her in the chair with Grandma in the next seat and her three grandkids watching?"

I hadn't considered the matter. "I was hoping she had a room," I said.

"That's a loser's attitude," he told me. Done, he zipped himself up and walked to the sink. "Lucky for you, I am always prepared. I have a double. Always rent a double, just in case. What the fuck, the company's paying for it. I can have the porter put up the partition, if you don't mind sharing."

I said I thought the idea was intriguing. We rejoined the ladies, who had availed themselves of restrooms the same as we had. Refreshed, we all went to the dining car.

Bill and Tina were getting along very well together. Jill and I felt like we had known each other for a long time. Between the salad and soup Bill leaned to me again and whispered, "Hey! What's up? You and Tina keep looking at each other."

I hadn't been aware that we had.

"Keep your nose in your own neighborhood," he said.

Indeed.

While we had coffee after the meal, Jill said it was a shame the trains didn't have dance floors. The music coming from the hidden speakers was very inviting. Bill laughed out loud.

"I can see everybody up doing the fox trot when this baby hits a curve at eighty-five."

He made sense. The pictures that came to all our minds were quite humorous. But, I noticed that the car had all but emptied out, and we didn't have waiters passing behind us every few seconds with heavy trays balanced overhead. I got up and took Jill's hand.

Surprised, she allowed me to help her stand, and I took her to the widest spot in the aisle and held her and we began to dance. Bill winked at me, like I'd finally done something right. Tina smiled. Even the waiters thought we were cute. They made sure not to disturb us until the song was over.

When we were finished, Bill suggested we head back to the bar car, but Tina shook her head and said she was getting a bit tired. She rolled her shoulders and Bill right away got behind her and started massaging her neck. He invited her to his room, saying in a few minutes he would have all the kinks worked out of her, and his tone had all the subtlety of a cinder-block. Still, the offer was apparently more than she could resist.

We all left together, and Jill took my hand as we walked from car to car. Her skin was soft and warm. She had small fingers, dainty hands and feet. I caught her twice smiling at me from behind her cascade of tresses. The dance had done the trick, as Bill might have said.

While the ladies freshened up again Bill tipped the porter and had him set up the double as two rooms. The partition was a collapsible plastic curtain that was completely opaque but hardly soundproof. When the ladies rejoined us Tina vanished with Bill in his half, and I invited Jill to join me in the other. "Unless you'd rather not," I asked. If Bill had still been there he would have kicked me.

She answered by taking my hand and leading me inside. I closed the door.

On the other side of the partition, Bill and Tina were laughing in attempted muted tones. They were apparently preparing to have some fun together. I looked at Jill and she blushed. There was no place else to sit but the turned down bed. She sat and pulled me down beside her, and still held on to my hand.

"You're very beautiful," I told her, and reached up to touch her face with my palm. Her eyes closed as I caressed her. I leaned over and our lips met, tentatively at first, and then as we savored each other's taste, more passionately. Her lips parted slightly and I took that as an invitation. My tongue pierced her mouth and met hers. She tasted like berries, warm and ripe in the sun. Must have been that blue drink she'd had at the bar. I held her and we kissed for a long time.

A sudden jolt and we both jumped. The curtain between the two halves of the room shook. Voices on the other side, muted for our benefit, laughed merrily. Jill and I parted and stared at each other.

"If this...arrangement makes you uncomfortable," I told her softly, "we can go someplace else. We don't have to do this if you'd rather not."

She looked down, and smiled, and having made a decision looked back up into my eyes. "I have a choice," she said quietly, "of sitting up all night in coach and listening to the beat of my own heart, or being here with you and listening to yours." She leaned toward me and kissed me tenderly, then sat back again and reached for the tie at the front of her dress. "I'd much rather be with you," she said, and pulled the strings that closed her bodice. The front of the dress fell open, and she stood and let it fall away from her shoulders. It collapsed silently at her feet, and she stepped out of it, clad now in nothing more than a small bra and thong. She sat again, and we kissed some more, and as she unbuttoned my shirt my hands went to her sides, explored her ribs, her belly, her back, and while there fumbled with the brassiere's snaps. As I freed it she leaned back and let me pull the garment from her.

Her breasts were small but rounded, soft and pale, with brick-red nipples already erect and puckered. She eased my shirt off my shoulders and I leaned down to put my lips on those nipples, and held them for a while, sucking gently at first, then harder, and letting the tip of my tongue flick across them the farther they intruded into my mouth. She whimpered at each lashing, her skin raised in gooseflesh. Her hands opened the front of my pants.

I stood, and she drew my pants down past my knees. I kicked off my shoes and stepped out of them, and now naked stood before her letting her eyes take in all of me. Her hands, so delicate and small, tested the waters of my flesh, and then she sat forward so her face was even with my bobbing erection, and she very slowly took me in her mouth.

My hands went to her hair, getting tangled and lost in the folds and waves of brown. She devoured me, I felt myself colliding with the back of her throat. Her hands grabbed my ass and held me in tightly. Her nose flattened against my belly.

I eased her back, and she reclined, and I slipped her thong off her and tossed it aside. I lowered myself over her and her arms wrapped around my neck, and we kissed long and hard, and then I moved slightly down and bit at her throat, and her chest. I nipped at her breasts. Her fingers grabbed my hair as I slid down even farther, running my tongue down her belly and across her trimmed patch to part her pussy lips and find her clit waiting and wet for me.

I licked at her, and inserted my tongue inside her, and she raised her pelvis up to make it easier for me to plunge deeper into her. I held her ass, and a finger teased her asshole, and when she moaned approvingly I slipped it inside her as well.

The sounds coming from across the divider became momentarily louder, and we both smiled, and I even had to laugh while I was eating her, which tickled her and made her laugh, too. I came up on top of her, my cock dragging along the inside of her thighs, and she raised her knees to guide me in. I entered her easily, and her legs locked behind my back, ankles crossed. Her arms encircled the back of my neck. I was blissfully trapped.

And then, as if the thought came to us both at once, we deftly rolled over and she sat up, still pierced on my cock, and she began to ride me. Her petite breasts jiggled slightly as she rose and lowered herself on my cock, and I watched in fascination as I vanished inside her only to appear again just before disappearing once more. I reached up and held her breasts, using my thumbs to massage her nipples, and ran my fingers over her belly and shoulders. She looked down on me, her pretty face framed in layers of brown hair, and I felt the heat in my loins begin to grow.

Carefully, I lifted her off me and reached my knees, and placed her before me on all fours, her legs slightly spread. I eased myself between them, and my cock quickly reentered her, my hips slapping at her ass as I pounded inside her. She held herself up with one stiff arm while the other reached back to alternately fondle my balls and her clit, which she fell to rubbing frantically. I slipped a finger up her ass again and we fucked like mad for a minute, and then I exploded inside her.

I felt her womb clutch at me, and she emitted sounds such as an animal might make preparing for battle. She thrust her ass back at me; I couldn't be inside her any deeper. Her pussy sucked at my throbbing cock as I emptied inside her, and when I finally slipped out she continued to move as if still impaled.

I lay her down and rolled her over, and brought her knees up again, this time sliding my head between her legs and burying my tongue up inside her. She grabbed my hair and held me down, rubbing my face on her crotch, and I felt her feet land in the small of my back. I licked her clit hard, and she came again, loudly, and then pulled me up and kissed me, sucking both our flavors off my tongue.

I sat up, and Jill lay back and watched me for a while, a slightly drunken look in her eyes.

"Do you have a robe?" she asked.

I said I had nothing, it wasn't even my room.

She sat up and took my shirt, and after buttoning an essential three buttons slipped barefoot out of the compartment, excusing herself to the bathroom. I sat back, wondered why I quit smoking, and waited for her to come back, which she did soon. She sat again beside me, still wearing my shirt, which fell partially open revealing a very luscious breast.

Across the divider, Big Bill began to call out, and from the sounds they made it was obvious to us both that Tina was going down on him. I smiled, and Jill did too after watching my reaction.