Games on Trains

"You look," she said to me softly, "like you're wondering if you picked the wrong girl."

My smile became a grin. "Nonsense," I told her, and took her hand and drew her to me and held her. I kissed the side of her face, inhaling the scent of her. "Do you always denigrate yourself after having sex?'

Bill's orgasm came noisily, not unlike a moose in pain.

"Only when I have such immediate competition," she said.

"More nonsense," I told her, and slipped a hand inside the shirt to cup her breast. Her face turned up to mine and we kissed, and her hand slid down my chest to my lap, where it wrapped slowly around my flaccid cock like she was picking up a sleeping snake and she began to bring life back into it. She kissed me harder, and her hand began to pump me until I was fully erect again, and then she slowly descended, taking me in her mouth, and very gradually and very completely blew my brains out. I could do nothing but lean back and enjoy.

Her lips were tight, tighter than any pussy I had even encountered, and her tongue encircled my cock like a hand. I couldn't stay where I was, I had to stretch out. She sensed my discomfort and slid to her knees on the floor beside the bed, and I half-sat, half-stood while she continued to suck me. Her hands grabbed at my ass, holding me in place, and then she abruptly had a finger up inside me, punishing my ass in tempo to the way her mouth encompassed my cock. The sensation was electric; I felt the orgasm swell up from below me, and as I held onto the top of her head I spurted uncontrollably down her throat. Her finger up my ass seemed to find a switch of some kind that magnified my orgasm ten fold. My balls ached as they pumped cum into her.

Finally she was done, and none too soon. All that pleasure had started to hurt, and she climbed back up on the bed and kissed me, sharing the last of my sperm with me, and then curled up at my side. I placed a hand on her belly, and she rolled into me, and she was asleep in no time.

I stared at the ceiling for a while, listening to her breathe, listening to Bill and Tina across the divide finishing up their own tryst. I smiled, and closed my eyes, and let the rocking rhythm of the train send me to sleep.

We all woke up about the same time, dressed, and went to our respective bathrooms to wash up. While shaving, Bill asked me how my night had been, and I told him it went just fine. I didn't have to inquire about his; he was far too eager to volunteer the information.

"She could suck a golf ball through a fifty foot garden hose," was how he described Tina. I found his singular fascination with her oral prowess very telling.

"Jill was very sweet," I said when it was my turn. "I wouldn't mind seeing her again."

Bill shook his head vigorously. "Bad idea," he said. "These girls are for fun only, not the kind you take home to mother."

For the sake of brevity, I pretended his opinion was inarguable.

We all enjoyed a quiet breakfast together while watching the Florida landscape scoot by. As we finished our last coffees the train pulled into Orlando Station. We disembarked together, found our luggage on the open-air racks, and said our good-byes with gentle kisses and lingering hand holding. I bid Bill farewell and walked to the car rental counter. As I signed the contract my wife met me.

"So, how was the trip for you?" she asked.

I grinned. "We met in Jersey," I said, "got to know each other through Maryland. Ate supper in Virginia, fucked through the Carolinas, slept through Georgia, and here we are. You?"

Tina laughed briefly. "Energetic," was all she said, and from the noise she and Bill had been making all night I congratulated her on her succinct summarization.

I wondered what might have happened if I had told Bill that Tina and I were on our way to a Swinger's Convention in, appropriately enough, Kissimmee? I wondered if he knew that Florida, besides being the East Coast vacation capital and the retirement capital of the whole country, was also the mate-swapping center of the continental 48 states. What would he have said if he knew he had spent the night fucking my wife, the chairperson of our local chapter in Connecticut?

It really didn't matter. I stuffed our luggage in the trunk of the blue sedan and we drove off into the warm, tropical sunshine, headed for what would for all intents and purposes be a three-day orgy. In twenty-four hours I would have trouble recalling what Jill had looked like. What a shame.

I'd have to remember to bring a camera along for the trip home.