Strange Attractors Pt. 01

Moving down to the far end of the cabin, she found an oasis of peace at a set of communal seats - a more intimate arrangement of wide chaise style chairs facing each other across a small gap, with matching accommodations on either side of the aisle. Tossing her brick filled bag onto the seat opposite her, she slouched down and closed her eyes for some well-deserved 'me' time.

She must have dozed off for several minutes, because the next sound to greet her was the ticky ticky tack of a nearby keyboard. Mags opened her eyes to the rising sun, a yellow ball of soul-feeding energy sitting over her right shoulder. She smiled a little girl's smile, allowing its warm glow to lick her face for a moment. Stretching, she glanced over at the new arrival, expecting to see some stuffed-shirt alpha male 'synergizing' a memo, but the occupant of the adjacent diagonal seat was anything but expected. A cascade of red hair framed the angular features of the most flawless piece of Anglo ass she had ever seen. The sharp nose and high cheekbones gave off the first impression of a great regal bird, a buxom fire-haired harpy queen straight out of one of Mags' favorite online RPGs. Fair skinned, freckled and wearing smart but stylish sunglasses, she appeared to be at least 10 years Maggie's senior.

Maggie's eyes poured over her with the thorough patience of hot candle wax, covering the swells and curves of her toned, mature body and clinging thickly on the rounded corners at breasts and hips. She took her fill until there was little doubt she could close her eyes and paint a picture of the woman from memory. Her hair was the red at the heart of sunsets and the orange of dawn - a sweeping deluge of curls rich with the bounty of autumn's harvest. Her face was a healthy pink, yet sprinkled with fine grains of chestnut. A not overly-generous bosom tented the front of her lustrous navy sateen blouse. But legs, oh my God, legs! The goddess's slate colored pencil skirt rode up to mid thigh, exposing sheer gray stockings that hugged her skin all the way down to her professionally polished black stilettos.

As she watched, the woman reached down and slipped off her shoes, stretching her long legs out onto the seat across from her. She curled, then spread, then pointed her long toes, her greco-roman calves straining against the gossamer fabric, before folding her legs up underneath herself. Mags choked, failing to swallow the saliva that had been pooling in her mouth and the glamazon looked up, raising thick auburn eyebrows, a bemused expression on her face. Mags coughed into her sleeve, doing her best to salvage some cool points, but by the time she had fully recovered the redhead had returned to her laptop.

Mags continued to watch her in the reflection of her window, taking in every inch of her 6 foot frame. Maybe 6 foot 1, Mags thought. Volleyball had given her an eye for estimating heights, even when the person was sitting, and from the fit of her blouse, she could tell this woman was solid: not a frail inch on her. Probably a crossfit fan, if she had her guess. Without looking up, the goddess casually removed a magazine from her rather large purse and placed it on the armrest beside her. Mags could just make out a picture on the cover, two women embracing, perhaps models, but the exact details escaped her. She risked a direct glance, feigning interest in the contents of her own shoulder bag, and was dumbstruck by the discovery of a trashy lesbian porno mag. Well, maybe "trashy" was a bit harsh; it was an erotic collection of short stories from one of the more upscale zines in the genre, and Maggie herself had often rubbed one out to the raunchy contents of the Vol 2 paperback.

She stared in awe a moment too long before realizing her mistake, and when she looked up the harpy was holding her gaze. "Oh fuck," she thought, "this is awkward". Without hesitation or any outward sign of embarrassment, the goddess removed her shades and replaced them with an equally stylish pair of reading glasses from her inner jacket. Mags gulped as the woman's piercing green eyes were now visible behind the lenses, seeming to bore into her own like augers.

The laptop dipped out of sight, followed by a pair of high end Sony headphones that had previously ringed her lean neck. Taking the magazine in her right hand, the woman slipped her left into the purse and removed what could only be described as a perfect purple penis. Mags was no expert on cocks, but she knew a magnificent dick when she saw one. It had to be about 9 inches long and thick from root to tip, with jellied balls that looked delightfully squishy atop a suction cup base.

The woman unbent her knees and placed both stockinged feet on the seat opposite her, causing her short skirt to hike up several more inches towards her waist. Then her eyes fell to her magazine as her thighs spread wide, the intrepid dong descending below her hem line. "No fucking way," Mags thought, hoping like hell that there'd definitely be a fucking way. A nearly imperceptible hum became audible and the woman's lips pursed, the fake phallus chugging and thumping into her needy sex. "God, it's alive," Maggie thought, suddenly regretting the choice of a pantsuit, as a delicious warmth blossomed between her legs. The redhead's toes curled and pawed on the soft cushions opposite her as she thumbed through the magazine in her lap. Maggie blinked and swallowed, completely at a loss for what to do as this grand performance unfolded less than 6 feet away. She knew she'd soon be able to drown a baby in her panties, but she couldn't dare be as brazen as this woman, could she? Maybe a little? Slowly, as if in a dream, her right hand unfastened her pants and slid beneath the button, edging under cotton knickers into the creamy dessert of her bush and cunt. "Oh shit," she grunted, when her fingers found the sopping mess. As mortified as she was at the thought of being caught, she was even more turned on by the unexpected turn of events. With a lust tinged with fear, she squeezed her legs together and watched the woman get herself off.

In no time at all the goddess was squirming in her seat, the magazine propped open to what must be her favorite passage. Her left hand moved diligently, clasped round the base of the dong, while the other end stirred up trouble deep inside her immaculate quim. Mags guessed that she was taking at least 6 inches without effort, which was no small feat considering the width of the damn thing. But she seemed unsatisfied with her accomplishments, nosing the dong ever deeper into her wound up box.

"God yes, BURY that big bastard," Mags urged wordlessly, juicing all over the crotch of her nice crisp pantsuit. Her white knuckled fingers dug into the velvet-soft seat cushion on her left side while most of her right fist was snuggled inside her cooch. Her thumb was the sole escapee, and it flew feverishly over her clit, pulling her orgasm towards the surface like a bass fisherman hellbent on bagging a 20 pounder. And with a quick inhalation of breath, the goddess came, simultaneously releasing her handgrip on the mechanical monster and dropping the magazine, clutching at the seat edge with both hands. A sharp "UNF!" followed, the first sound Mags had heard from the woman, most similar to the grunt from a hard punch to the gut. The purple dildo spat from her twat like a perverse torpedo and landed with a bounce on the cushion between her feet.

Had she been a dude, the strength of Maggie's boner could have hoisted the U.S. battle standard high over the Capitol building. She was so furiously impressed and turned on that she didn't know whether to applaud or cry. Instead she came hard, jerking her hips as she squirted and spat her passion in a wet wash over the palm of her right hand. She peeked over and saw the stranger watching her come with unhidden interest - "YES!, score on for the home team," Mags thought - as the woman rid out the bucking bronco of her own ebbing climax, their tandem orgasms perfuming the air with the sharp musk of feminine arousal. Maggie's hips kicked a final time, her whole body twitching as if struck by a jolt of electricity.

She suddenly became aware that she'd been holding her breath and was damn near passing out. Gasping for air, the explosive sound came out overly loud in the otherwise quiet bubble of solitude at their end of the car. Breathing heavily, her mouth slightly parted, the goddess stared at her with dreamy eyes, an unspoken question hanging motionless on the tip of her tongue.

"FUCK yes," Maggie's mind screamed. "Everything YES. Yes I'd capital 'L' LOVE to eat your Eagle Queen quest boss +1 pussy. IN you, ON you, UNDER you, I'm YOURS."

At least that's what she wanted to say anyway, the words she begged her frozen lips to speak. The harpy regarded her with a predators gaze, her moist, open sex taunting, only just hidden beneath the stretched taught hem of her posh business dress, but oh so close Maggie could fucking taste it. The silent moment held an eternity of promise, an expectation of carnal debauchery that threatened to burn Maggie up like a candle in a kiln.

The woman's eyes fell to Maggie's lap, and goosebumps pebbled the tawny girl's skin. She didn't dare move as the queen eased her body languidly from the reclined chair and crossed the distance between them, stalking the younger woman, the space giving way before the purposeful movements of her powerful body. She perched on the seat next to Mags, her knees denting the cushion, the angular face inches from her own. Maggie could definitely smell her now, her warm floral perfume, and underneath, the raw, wet, heady smell of a woman's excited sex.

With a delicate hand, she reached across Maggie's body and pulled the wrist from her unclasped pants to hold it aloft. She held the darker girl's hand like a prize, their two contrasting colors touching, beautiful together like a caramel vanilla swirl. Out in the light of day, the fingers glistened obscenely with her girl drool and the slightly thicker, more fragrant juice of her spend.

The woman moved her face closer and closed her eyes, inhaling the rich, zesty smell of Maggie's pussy. Then, with her eyes still shut, the harpy dropped her head and began to worship the fingers, licking and sucking the fresh creme from each digit, her merlot colored lips and tongue looping lazy paths to seek out and suckle every drop. She danced circles across Maggie's palm, washing the skin, making sloppy popping sounds as the fingers slipped in and out of her greedy mouth. Maggie sat like an awestruck tourist at Benihana, watching the woman work against the fantastic backdrop of... well, it seemed the whole fucking outside world.

When she was done, the hand was clean of Maggie's cum but no less slick than before, now shiny with the woman's spit. Maggie felt like she could die happy in that moment without a single regret. A reckless thought seized her, the same impulsive feeling that had helped her get the jump on big projects over more senior coworkers. When others doubled down, Maggie would quadruple down, and throw the rent money in on top.

She reached her free hand up to cradle the older woman's cheek, pulling the head down to meet the vixen's mouth. She tasted herself on those lips, forcing her tongue against the other woman's to sample her own flavors secondhand. Salty and bittersweet. Maggie's other hand reached into the jacket, her fingers tracing the gentle swell of the woman's waist. The harpy exhaled into her mouth, both a sigh and a moan. She felt her hand removed from the amazon's cheek and placed on the armrest. Then the other. Not a suggestion but a command. God she was strong.

Their eyes met briefly and the pecking order was re-established. "I'll behave," Maggie eyes promised as the stranger tugged the pants down over the girl's legs to bunch in a jumble above her feet. Her ruined panties joined the pantsuit down around her ankles. "Oh fuck. I'm naked on a train," Maggie's higher functions screamed uselessly over the din of her reptile brain. The queen's face was between her thighs now, red hair like a wildfire rising over her mons, the rest of her kneeling at Maggie's feet for the unholy sacrament of consumption.

Maggie's wet nether lips parted for the woman's tongue, her eyes fluttering closed as the beauty slashed again and again at her clit. On it, around it, against it. "Oh WOW," she managed, when the defenseless nub was caught between the goddess's lips. And then the whole of her exposed box was inside the woman's mouth, like some fleshy clam sucked from its shell. She whimpered as the woman claimed her, peeling back her private layers to suss out the tender bits within. Roads and stables flashed by outside, weird sheds that hung crooked from their roofs. A whole family of horses that had no idea how well her pussy was being serviced.

She'd never been so expertly eaten before - licked and kissed, tasted and teased - not in her wildest forays into the realms of coitus. She had the oddest sense that the beauty was actively sampling her body, a scientist of texture at home in the vicious playground between Maggie's shuddering thighs. The amazon seemed to take a perverse pleasure in making her squirm, bringing her to the edge time and again only to pull back and restart the climb from the bottom. In no time she knew Maggie's contours better than her best lover, drifting away for some tangent tongue on the perimeter of her veejay before popping up to take her clit back to the promised land. It was infuriatingly effective. A single glance up at Mags' ravished expression was all the woman needed to urge her on. "So fucking good," Maggie mouthed silently to those eyes.

Having vanquished her pussy, the besotted business woman raised Maggie's hips, and suddenly her asshole had joined the outrageous party. Hot breath bathed the tender skin of her third eye as the redhead turned her attention there, eyeing the puckered wink with the hunger of someone half starved. If it could be said that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, the path to Maggie's affections surely lay up the arse. Mags LOVED having her bum pampered and would always reciprocate in kind; she delighted in the intimacy of the act, the ungarnished acceptance of another's imperfect body. If many hetero couples still avoided treading where the sun don't shine, well... they were missing out. For a silent moment the stranger simply breathed her in - the warm, clean earthiness of her sweaty apple booty, its dull natural aroma born of its cloistered shifting and flexing within the confines of her panty. Inside her sensible work pumps, Maggie's painted toes curled into fists in anticipation of the assault, yet still she was unprepared when the warrior princess stabbed into the crack of her ass.

The woman seemed everywhere at once, her tongue a hot sponge of satin sandpaper, gliding across the surface of her skin with the expertise of an oil painter. She visualized the path of the woman's mouth, the lecherous way she gurgled Maggie's juices, nosing through the thick lips of her pussy as her kisses descended towards the godiva brown circlet around her ane, pausing there to press into its moist pink center.

There was a time when she'd been self conscious about the dusky bullseye between her cheeks, the extra pigmentation courtesy of her tribal genepool, but enough past lovers had shown interest there that she quickly came to enjoy their silent appraisal of the dark halo surrounding her anus. Her travel buddy didn't seem to mind. Mags' knees were up by her ears now, the redhead's face lost between the golden brown globes of her buttocks. There she wallowed, noisily smacking her lips and sucking at the ginger flesh with a perversity unbecoming of a lady so finely dressed.

"Ohwhatthefuckareyoudoingtome," Maggie groaned, relaxing her backdoor when the lady again came-a-knockin. Being no stranger to butt stuff, Mags knew how to serve up a tossed salad. She dilated her ring muscle while the amazon pushed in, their combined efforts gaining the vixen nearly an inch of naughty real estate up her humid back passage. Surreal as it was, what was a girl to do but sit there with her legs up while this flawless bitch tongue-scrubbed her boysenberry. That rough slap of bumpy skin against her rosy pucker had always done it for her, and within seconds she was closing in on another orgasm.

"Yessss, taste my asshole," Maggie mewled in the high-pitched "pretty pretty please" voice that accompanied her neargasms. "OhI'mgonnafuckingcome."

Her grip on the armrests tightened into claws as the runaway orgasm raged to the surface. When the anal attention started to overwhelm her she bit her lip, her bootyhole pinching at the woman's maverick tongue.

"Now lick my clit. Lick my clit. Oh FUCK yes! Right there. Oh SHIT!" she shout-whispered in a panic. The lady happily obliged and Maggie's fist hammered on the armrest as her pussy erupted, boiling over into the glamazon's voracious mouth. Unsure if she were squirting or peeing or dying, Maggie's bones went to jelly at 180 miles per hour.

The woman held her tightly, irradiated in the plume of Maggie's atomized sexplosion, patiently containing the breach as the girl slowly coalesced back into something resembling non-critical mass. The sun shone down on two shades of skin and the land sped away, forgotten.

And with the abruptness of a closed Grubhub transaction, it was over. As if in a dream Mags watched the beauty queen collect herself, just a proper business woman going about her duties. Brushing a stray hair from her sweat beaded forehead, the woman raised from the floor and slipped into her shoes. Smartly adjusting her skirt and gathering the magazine inside her purse, she stood, replacing her lenses with the darker shades from earlier. As she turned to retreat down the row, Mags watched her go, mystified.

After what seemed an eternity, she leaned into the aisle, scoring a last look at the harpy's sweet round ass before it disappeared behind the sliding electronic door to the next car over. Maggie lingered, hanging out into the walkway, breathing in the strong and familiar whiff of feminine musk.

"What. Just. Happened," she whispered into the creepily vacant space around her. She glanced down and immediately regretted it. "Shit Shit Shit! Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of fucked up Cinderella..."

Still sitting in a wobbly pile on the seat beneath her outstretched body was the purple pussy eater - 9 jellied inches of 'her problem'.

Swinging into full on damage control mode she did a lunging grab for her shoulder bag and promptly fell off the chair, spilling the bag's contents out onto the floor around her half-naked self. "Dammit," she said, nursing a sore elbow. Slowly recovering, she'd just grabbed the dildo in one hand and the bag in the other when the now open ArkTek binder caught her eye.

A hysterical laugh escaped her mouth. She chucked the dick-filled bag to the ground and snatched up the 'West Bumblefuck' manual. The shock of a week's worth of revised information uploading to her brain suddenly left her very cold.

Filling the whole page, a beautiful color spread of a state of the art laboratory served as the backdrop for the Applied Sciences Think Tank team photo. Four gentlemen were featured, all looking professional but good-natured about their work. The standout was the woman, a bombshell of a leggy redhead in her early 40s. Dead center, hands in pockets, she challenged the camera with predatory eyes. Maggie didn't need to read the caption but she did anyway.

[Sydney Castle and the Applied Sciences team]

"Huh, Sid is a Sydney," Maggie said in an unfamiliar voice.

Just then her phone pinged a new text message. Someone fished it off the floor with a hand that looked very much like her own hand, yet she couldn't feel a thing. Strange.