Riding Rails with Boys

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Superior service, rail guests come first class, always.
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Copyright Neonurotic

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

#

"Can you get me a latté?"

"Sure," he said, knowing they still had more of a wait before they boarded the Sunburst Express, the train that went from Tacoma Washington to Santa Cruz California. "Hazelnut?"

Crystal Riley nodded, sending a mass of her auburn curls bobbing back and forth while she continued to read her book. It was a novel she planted her nose into since they arrived at the station building.

"Oh, Jus?"

"Yes?"

"Also, chocolate biscotti if they have any."

"Okay, baby."

Once out the heavy doors of the station, Justin headed across the street towards Tully's coffee shop. It was cold outside. The wind whipped his black raincoat around his shins and an icy breeze swirled up his back. Shuddering against the sudden chill, he pulled his coat tighter around him as he entered the barista. A glass case held an assortment of sugar-laden muffins, cookies, and pastries. He looked at the display, but didn't see his wife's favorite sweet Italian treat.

A woman from behind the stand asked cheerfully, "Can I help you?"

"A double tall hazelnut latté," he glanced at his Citizen watch, a dive watch equipped with depth displays―his birthday gift from Crystal of a few days ago. He'd never use it as it was intended even though he'd love to do so. He never had time for himself anymore. "And a vanilla one too."

"Are you from the Amtrak station?"

"Yes," he said, glancing at his watch again. "The train is late."

"It's always late," she laughed, handing him a plastic tray that held his order. "An even seven, please."

"I figured that about the train." He noticed how good-looking she was as he pulled out a ten-dollar bill from his money clip and gave it to her. For a moment, he held onto it before he let her have it. His fingers inched towards hers. A spark instilled a buzzing tightness in his crotch. Goddamn, very sexy, he thought, his gaze lingering at the pull of thin material across her full round breasts. Catching her eye, he smiled lazily and gave her the money. "Keep the change."

A flush dotted her cheeks. "Thank you."

"Have a nice day."

"You too..." she spoke a little more brightly than she had before. "And have a good trip."

Justin locked eyes with her again as he sipped the vanilla flavored coffee. "Delish," he arched a suggestive brow, meaning her, not the latté. He turned; went out the door without another word.

Normally, he would have asked for her phone number to meet up with her later, but he remembered he promised his wife he wouldn't. Although Crystal and he had an open relationship, this particular weekend in Santa Cruz was just for the two of them, the honeymoon they never had. No girlfriends or boyfriends for either of them. Already, it was proving to be a difficult promise to keep because he'd already seen two people who interested him―the barista girl and the taxi driver. The good looks of the driver and brassy attitude was appealing, especially since he was just exploring his bisexuality in the last several months.

Returning to his wife, he sat down next to her and waved the coffee in front of her until he caught her attention. "Here you go."

"God, that smells so good." Crystal put her book aside, took the cup from him and sipped hastily, only to burn her tongue. "Ouch, very hot!"

"Duh, you big dork," he sniggered. "Coffee is supposed to be hot."

Over the intercom, a hearty male voice boomed and bounced off the train station walls: "Good morning folks. Looks like train number eleven the Sunburst Express is finally here. All passengers will board when they are ready. First Class passengers may find their sleeper cars on the left of the train and Coach passengers their seats on the right."

"That's us," he handed his coffee to her to hold while he gathered their luggage.

On the train and down the narrow passageway, they found their First Class seating. Two small carry-on sized bags and a backpack were all they had. It was also all that would fit in the small, three-foot by six-foot room. What Amtrak called a 'roomette'.

"Damn. This room is so small," he laughed as he tried to cram suitcases under the seats. "Oh, I wonder what the upgrades look like."

Although it was small, it was First Class all the way, decorated in royal blue. Reading material about the train and the various cities they were going to stop, were set on a small rack along with bottles of Evian water, Lancôme lotion and fine chocolates. The pillows were decent ones as well, full-sized; not sad little ones like on the airlines.

"I get the bottom." Crystal plopped onto one of the seats that was folded down to make up the bottom bunk. "I'm afraid of falling off the top one in the middle of the night."

"Okay sure." He noted there was more room on the bottom bed, enough where he could stretch out his full height as opposed to sleeping on top where he'd have to sleep bent-kneed. "You always get the bottom."

"It's where you like me, too."

"Sure, that's right, baby."

Sitting across from her, he smiled weakly, thinking that she never took the top or the initiative in anything for that matter, let alone sex. It was the same case with Geoff, his boyfriend. Not that he minded being the dominant one; he just liked to be the receiver instead of the giver every now then.

The train departed from the station, slowly at first then gained speed, and moved down the track with clickety-clack smoothness. Tall buildings, warehouses, and fences blurred by, making him feel somewhat queasy when trying to focus on one object. He realized he had nothing in his stomach since their breakfast early that morning. Toast and orange juice only went so far. He sat up, took her hand and pulled her up with him.

"Are you starved?" He kissed her, tasting the sweet nutty flavor of her latté.

"Yes," her eyes lit up. "Let's go to the dining car. I think eating and sleeping is the best part of being on a long train ride."

"Good then let's see if they are serving lunch before my belly bites my backbone."

"Poor boy, we can't have that, now can we?"

It was an ordeal walking along the narrow passageways, bumping into the wall on either side of them as the train made turns or switched tracks. Along the way, he saw different room upgrades. An extra two hundred would buy restroom facilities and four hundred was room enough to turn around in the shower without sticking one's foot in the toilet.

"Looky there, Jus," she said in scorn, pointing out one room. "They get Ghirardelli's chocolates and Napa Valley wine."

"Oh, but their room will smell like a sewer by tonight," he chuckled, nudging her to move forward. "Now really, baby, how romantic is that?"

"Icky, it's not!"

Two cars from theirs, they found the lounge. Overstuffed chairs, round tables, dark wood paneling, and soft lighting made the room inviting. Justin nodded to the bartender who was polishing spotless glassware as they passed him.

"Sir, will you and your lovely companion be joining me for the free wine-tasting this afternoon? I will be announcing it in a few hours before the evening meal."

"Sure, sounds good to me. How about you, Crys?"

Crystal giggled, tickled his back to get him going again. "This is so fun. We should've done this before."

Agreeing with her, he took her hand and made it to the dining car. The door slid open and revealed several booths with white linen covered tables on both sides of the car. Waitpersons in white starched shirts with ankle length black aprons served passengers.

The maitre d' approached them. "Two of you?"

"Yes," said Justin.

"This way please."

The maitre d' seated them on the left side of the car where they could view the scenery rushing by. This still sickened him and even though it did, he buttered a roll anyway, which the busboy set before them along with tall glasses of ice water. As he was munching away on the bread, reviewing the menu someone approached them. Justin noticed due to the man standing so close, invading his comfort zone, but didn't look. Usually, he would've pulled back, but the man smelled good, like sandalwood―delicious and very sexy.

"Good afternoon, lady and gentleman. Welcome to the Sunburst Express," said the man with a light palatal, rhythmic accent. I'm Artem. I'll be your waiter for your midday meal."

"Well, hello," Crystal said, nearly purring. "Mmm..."

Justin raised a reproachful eyebrow then glanced up and saw why his wife acted so minxy.

Artem was tall and lanky, extremely attractive with his longish blond bangs falling into his eyes. He tossed his head back, cleared his vision and smiled with his teasing hazel-gray eyes. "Would you like to see the wine list, sir?"

For several seconds, Justin gaped at him until Crystal kicked his shin beneath the table. "Yes, yes that would be nice." He said, knowing all he really wanted off the menu was a cheeseburger and a Coke. "No wait. I-I'm just having a burger and wine would taste weird with it. What about you, Crys, what are you having?"

"I'll have the same." Fully amused, Crystal nodded and smothered her snicker with a bite of bread.

Their waiter looked at them questioningly; he didn't quite get what was going on.

"Two cheese burgers and two Cokes, please." He felt hot; he knew the red crept up to his cheeks. While trying to hand the menus back to the waiter, he knocked over a glass of ice water into his lap. "Oh, damn," he fussed.

"I got it. Relax, sir." Artem mopped up the water with a towel, inched along Justin's leg and crotch, affecting an erection. "Now, I understand everything," he whispered. His 'everything' sounded like 'ev-ree-ting' with his accent.

Justin relaxed, smiled at Artem and guessed their waiter was Russian. "Thank you."

"That's why I'm here, to serve you and the lady." Artem left with their order.

"Smooth," laughed Crystal. "Real smooth."

"Fuck you," he joked.

"You will later."

After that incident, their lunch went well. Their waiter made small talk, mentioned he was stopping in Santa Cruz for the weekend himself then flirted openly with the both of them, but especially Justin. It was obvious to him that Artem was more interested in him, which was good and bad at the same time. Good because he was horny as hell and wanted to take his frustration out by fucking a man. Bad because Crystal made it clear to him it was all about the two of them this weekend. When did he ever do what he was told? He didn't. The bad boy in him was what hooked his wife in the first place, that and his big cock of course.

After lunch, they went back to their roomette. It was a comfortable silence between them. She read her book, a bodice-ripping romance while he listened to The Doors on his MP3 player. With food now in his stomach, he wasn't a bit queasy watching the scenery rush by. Most of it was pretty; the forest, meadows, and in the cities, the colorful graffiti on the sides of buildings. Occasionally when the train slowed at intermediate stops, he saw trash strewn around, burnt out old cars, and refrigerators.

People slept huddled on top of cardboard along chain-link fences. Much of these scenes made him sad, but he also inwardly shivered, since many people were just a paycheck away from such destitution. A few hours passed so did Portland, Oregon by the time someone came by to take dinner reservations. After making reservations at six for the evening meal, an announcement over the intercom informed them the wine-tasting was about to start in the lounge car.

"Still want to go, Jus?"

"You can't ride a train by Napa Valley and not have wine. I think they kick you off the back of the caboose if you didn't."

"I think you're right!"

Crystal and he freshened up before heading to the Lounge car. Once there, they found most of the tables already filled, but he caught sight of their Russian waiter motioning to them to sit near the back of the car. It was a prime spot; cozy, made for two.

"Take this table, sir. I was saving it for the both of you." Artem placed two glasses in front of them, and poured them a white wine.

"Thank you, Artem." He held out his hand, passing a ten-dollar tip as the other man grasped it in a firm handshake. He remembered he didn't introduce himself. "This is Crystal and I'm Justin."

"Yes sir, I already know who you are. You signed your lunch bill."

"Oh yes, right." He felt like an idiot, totally losing his cool every time he was near Artem. "W-what's this wine?"

"If you shushed for a moment you'd hear our bartender telling us." Crystal gave Justin a sharp look. "Thank you waiter." She smiled sweetly, dismissing him.

The bartender spoke through a microphone: "Domaine Carneros Pinot Noir is an elegant wine with it fruit tones of black cherry, cassias and violets. This wine marries well with a wide range of flavors such as beef, fowl, pork or grilled salmon."

Justin didn't care for the wine, but he drank it any way, which Artem quickly replaced with another refill and then a Pinot Noir sample. Next came the Chardonnays and two sparkling wines. Artem also laid out trays with cheese and fruit for them―it was wonderful. He liked the wine with the extra sharp cheddar cheese. He wondered aloud why there wasn't cheese tasting too.

"Are you drunk?" Crystal asked.

"Uhm, ya just a wee bit." The wine settled nicely in the pit of his gut and lit a fire there while the Russian waiter lit one in his crotch. "How about you?"

All she did was smile, but faltered when she noticed him staring at Artem as he filled their glasses. "I agree with you, he is gorgeous, but you do remember what we agreed upon back in Tacoma don't you? This little weekend getaway is for two not three," she scolded under her breath.

The bartender described the sparkling wine they were drinking: "The Cuvée intertwines lovely flavors of lemon blossoms, honeydew melon, ripe peaches and pears. This wine compliments seafood, poultry and duck."

"La-dee-da...sasty sheese and wine." Justin drained his glass. "Eh, I'm done, time for me to go."

Artem suppressed an amused smile as he guided him out of the tiny booth. "Sir, I will see you at dinner, yes?"

"Yes, yes indeed you will." Justin laid a hand on Artem's shoulder as he helped Crystal.

"Me too." Crystal jerked Justin's hand off the attractive Russian and led him back to their car. "You want him, don't you?" She asked airily as soon as they returned to their roomette. "Admit it." She was annoyed, not quite angry yet.

Justin tried to distract her. He drew her close, pressed his lips to hers. First, his tongue flirted with her lower incisors, sliding back and forth across the smooth, sharp edges and touched her tongue. Caressing her back, she moaned as his hands went down to her round jean-covered rear. He cupped her perfect shape and squeezed. More urgently, he kissed her. She did what he knew she would―she responded. Breathlessly, she panted into his mouth, and molded her body against his, nearly melting in his arms. She could never resist his kisses. They always won him whatever he wanted.

"Do you want me, Crys?"

"You didn't answer my question."

With a grin, he reached over, locked the sliding door and pulled the privacy drapes closed.

####

Some time later, after bone-jarring sex, Justin slipped back into his clothes, dressed while the naked curve of Crystal's ass. His stomach growled loudly. "Hungry, it seems."

"I was thinking the same, but you wore me out." She yawned.

"Nap?"

"Mmm-hmm, yes. You go on ahead, sounds like you're starved, aren't you?"

"For sure."

Justin pulled the blanket up over her shoulders as she already closed her eyes. He shook his head, smiled and stepped out in the passageway, closing the door behind him.

At dinner, he found himself seated across from an elderly couple without Artem as their waiter, much to his disappointment. Since space was limited on the train, passengers sat together in the booths. This was a great opportunity to meet different people to share a meal with and conversation. Justin was lucky his dinner companions were interesting. Mr. and Mrs. Parsons, Texans, were on their way to Los Angeles then onto another train to see their married son in Colorado. They informed him they never traveled by any other means than First Class on a train. Still, a few days spent in a small roomette like his and Crystal's was too small. He couldn't imagine sleeping all scrunched up in a bunk every night.

After stuffing himself on roasted rosemary chicken and deep-dish apple pie, he discovered he was both sober and now sleepy. He excused himself from the table, said goodnight to the Parsons and went back through the Lounge car towards the sleeper cars. At the back end of the Lounge, he nearly tripped over a long pair of legs in his path. Irritated, he looked to see whom they belonged to, to tell them to tuck it in, as he didn't feel like stepping over them.

"Do you mind?" He asked, but then reconized the owner of the obstacle and grinned. "Hey, I didn't see you at dinner."

"I had a break for the evening meal." Artem motioned for Justin to sit. "Did you like the waiter who served you tonight?"

Justin sat down and called for the bartender; he wanted coffee rather than alcohol. "My waiter was fabulous." He watched the other man's face to see if there was a change, perhaps the Russian would be crushed to know he was so well taken care of. Wish granted; he saw disappointment. "I wanted water, the waiter got it. I wanted another fork, I got it. I wanted a blow job and I got that too," he laughed, catching the surprised look that crossed Artem's handsome face. "I'm joking."

Artem looked at him curiously. "I hope so at least."

The barman set a steaming hot cup of coffee along with a frosty mug of beer on the table before them. Artem grabbed the beer and took a long pull of it. They made small talk in which Artem mentioned he was born in Ukraine, but lived in Russia for a time before he and his family moved to the U.S. when he was nine years old.

"After twenty-two years, I still have a Russian accent."

"Yes you do." Stirring sugar into his coffee, Justin gazed back. "I'm going to be pretty blunt here and ask you if you're interested in men or not because I'm thinking you are." His heart hammered in his chest; he was sure of the signals he was getting, but was still inexperienced in picking up men.

"You'd be right," Artem smiled. "And I'm especially interested in you."

With a little more confidence, Justin relaxed and leaned closer, wanting to kiss the other man, as Artem looked rather tasty wearing a sexy half-grin. "Just interested?"

"I'm interested in fucking you."

Damn, he thought and doubled-damned, Crystal...damn it all to hell, Justin remembered her as she entered the lounge, spying him with the Ukrainian waiter. "Good―me too, but you hold that thought for now."

"Hold what thought?" Crystal appeared beside her husband, laying a possessive hand on his arm.

"I was thinking you should try the rosemary chicken for dinner," replied Justin. "It's delicious."

"I'm sure it is. Can I talk to you for minute, Jus?"

Justin slid out of the booth. "I'll see you later." He said to Artem, stressing the word 'later'.

"Later, for breakfast." Crystal gave the Ukrainian a cool look.

"Yes," Artem drained his mug and returned her stare, not at all put off by her silent warnings. "Later."

Once out of Artem's earshot, she reminded Justin again, of what they promised each other. Wordlessly, he followed her into the dining car and stayed with her while she had the entree he suggested. He pretty much felt like the chicken she picked at too. The promise, ya right, her promise, not his.

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