The Comfort of Strangers

But she had reckoned without the determination of her two admirers who eventually badgered and battered her into submission with their relentless, gushing entreaties.

"Al right, all right... but just one drink... I really do have to get back. My God, you two are so persistent."

The three of them staggered out into the corridor and headed for the men's berths, Pierre leading the way. Before they were halfway along their carriage Pierre stopped and turned, took Leona's into his arms and crushed his lips against hers with such force she felt she must surely bruise. His passion was animal-like. Such was the fervour and ferocity of his embrace that she hardly noticed Claude's hand, first feeling her bottom, running his forefinger up and down the cleft of her buttocks, before venturing up her knitted dress, exploring her stocking tops and coming to rest on her warm damp crotch. Claude felt the woman's legs give at the contact, as if in surrender, but maybe she was just unsteady on her feet because of too much champagne. Whatever it was she seemed happy to ignore the persistent pressing and probing of Claude's fingertips while allowing Pierre to explore her mouth with his tongue and her breasts with his hand. Claude's fingers were soon slipping inside the leg of her lace panties and foraging through the warm, coiled hairs.

"I think perhaps we'd better go inside," said Claude, huskily. "Before anybody comes."

Leona laughed inwardly at Claude's unintended pun, aware now of the solid erection against her bottom, and from the front, Pierre's hardness too. "My God," she thought, "I'm to be fucked by both of them at once."

They slipped inside the darkness of the men's cabin and stood together in a huddle, arms moving furiously about each other's bodies, the male hands taking the most blatant of liberties with Leona's possessions, while she in turn felt for their cocks and squeezed and rubbed gently through the coarse fabric of their jeans. Leona abandoned herself to their attentions, their passions, and their sheer brutality. Claude's mouth was upon hers now, firmer than Pierre's, different in taste. She did not care whose hand was on her cunt or whose hand was unzipping and removing her dress. It was gratuitous free-for-all and she was ready to give every bit of herself. Fingers penetrated her front and rear and moved inside her with an animal baseness that thrilled her and which stoked the fires even more. Leona made no attempt to resist them and allowed the flagrant abuse to continue and intensify. For her part she used her right and left hands to unbutton and unzip the men's jeans in unison, pulling them down with one good tug each, and then their underpants which they kicked free of their ankles. In the darkness the lights of a passing station momentarily illuminated their erect penises. The sight of their manhood made the passion flow through her loins like warm mercury.

She was aware of the deepening penetrations of her vagina and anus, the insistent opening and widening of her two orifices as if being prepared for salacious sacrifice. Was it the same hand, or two different ones? The men seemed to have a telepathic understanding of each other's movements. It was as if this was a practised routine, a well-rehearsed play, something they knew off by heart, as if they were used to working in tandem and sharing the same woman.

Without interrupting their kiss, Pierre helped the young woman out of the black knitted dress and let it fall softly to the rocking floor of the sleeping car. She stepped out of it now wearing only a grey silk slip, lined with ochre lace. The hands of the two men moved across the surface of the slip. They rubbed themselves against her, their seeping cocks leaving little beads of wetness on the fabric as they teased her with little prods and nudges against her stomach and buttocks. The sensuous swish of silk on their penises stiffened them even more. She moved slightly, to feel them better. She thought they were getting even harder. Claude abandoned her mouth and, sitting on the bunk, pulled down the shoulder straps of Leona's slip and brassiere. Her milk-white breasts burst free, heavy and voluptuous, like two babies tipped out of a hammock. Claude buried his face in them, his mouth squashed against her musky mounds. He leaned back to admire them better, but in the darkness they were vague forms. But the warmth and closeness of them was enough to fill any gaps in his imagination. He felt them jiggle as if the train's movements were echoing through them, bringing the breasts alive, their raised nipples begging for kisses and bites.

"How beautiful you are!" Claude caught the whites of her widening eyes.

She pulled his head against her chest. He greedily nibbled one tip. Leona let out a small cry.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"No, no, go on."

Claude resumed his caress while Leona abandoned herself, a glutton for more. Pierre switched on a night light with a flattering soft red glow enhancing the eroticism of the scene unfolding before his eyes. It turned him on to see his best friend's mouth moving from one breast to the other while his hands roamed freely over the woman's splendid bottom. Pierre began caressing himself, maintaining his magnificent erection, although extra stimulation was hardly necessary to preserve his manly state. Pierre stopped to draw Leona's slip up over her head. She raised her arms as if in supplication. He then helped her out of her sopping knickers, bringing them first up to his nose and sniffing her feminine allure and then tasting her tangy sweetness. Leona was now naked apart from her suspender belt, her stockings and her shoes.

Pierre could no longer hold back. He sat next to Leona on the bunk, the other side of Claude, angling Leona's back and hips towards him, and, holding her firmly by the waist, drove into her vagina from behind causing her to squeak like a mouse. Her back arched and her head fell against Claude who tenderly caressed her face and stroked her now sweat-matted hair as her body moved in time with the thrusting of Pierre from behind. She struggled a little, but the young man increased his hold on her and impaled himself even deeper. His sex felt extremely large for she had never felt herself as mightily invaded and stretched as this. He moved slowly and steadily inside her, whispering: "I love you, you are so good."

Claude continued kissing Leona's head, while his hands played with her breasts and kept her nipples taut and erect. Pierre's cock surged on ever harder, a deep, savage lust rose inside Leona who came with a piercing shriek. "Oh, God...! I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"Don't be sorry, Leona," whispered Pierre as he spurted inside her accompanied by several guttural grunts. The two men quickly got her to her feet, allowing her no respite, Pierre staying lodged inside her. Claude entered her from the front, knowing his friend had not yet withdrawn. This drew a short sharp shriek from Leona, anguished and amazed that she was able to accommodate both of them in a single orifice. But the sudden lance of pain was soon replaced by an exquisite sensation -- the dual sawing motion of the men as their cocks rubbed against each other inside her.

Kissing her neck and back Pierre withdrew and next aligned his penis with Leona's anus, nudging at it, lubricating it with the wet, seeping tip, until the ring of muscle gave away to the insistent, steady pressure and penetrated her bottom with one smooth upward glide, like a knife through butter, until he was buried to the hilt. Leona gasped at the sudden brazen violation and adjusted to the combined fore and aft penetrations. She felt as if time was standing still, her body, blissful and buoyant in a dreamlike state. The swinging movements of the sleeping car completed the heavenly illusion.

The men extracted themselves from Leona and eased her down onto her knees where it seemed perfectly natural thing to take Claude's vagina-wet cock into her mouth. She could taste the cocktail of male and female fluids which at first made her gag, but she eased back and recovered herself, taking his full length and cleaning him with her mouth and tongue. Claude came in seconds shooting his warm sperm against the back of her throat. She swallowed in reflex and the viscous, slightly saline-tasting sperm slipped down her neck. Leona shuddered.

"Good girl," whispered Pierre. "Now do it for me," and without rest for a breather the young men turned Leona round so that his now flaccid and pendulous cock dangled against her bottom lip. "Now wash me before I fuck your cunt again."

Pierre's derogatory dialogue inflamed her passions once more and she willingly took the tip in her mouth, sucked in a few soft inches and began caressing with her tongue until she felt it thicken and become erect. Then she sucked and masturbated the cock in equal measures until she felt the pulsing in his shaft and the jetting of his second orgasm. "You are so, so, beautiful," he panted, as he came long and gloriously into her hungry mouth.

Pierre rested for a moment, refreshing himself from an open bottle of champagne while Claude lifted Leona onto the bunk and positioned himself between her legs. He then parted the blonde curls with his fingers and opened her. The wet pink grotto welcomed him in and within a minute Leona's hips were bucking to the skilful clitoral-teasing of Claude's pointed tongue. He took her to the edge time and again, never quite allowing her to come, drawing back just as she was about to convulse into orgasm, and then letting her recover herself before starting in again.

"That's enough," said Pierre. "Let her come now." And Claude did so, with a final swirling flourish of the tongue which gave her an orgasm that nearly jack-knifed her body in half with its intensity.

"Oh God, that was just unbelievable. You two are just... Oh my, goodness, I'm drained..." Suddenly she looked concerned. "Look, I really must go. They'll be wondering where I am."

"Not yet, Leona," said Pierre. "There is just one more thing we must do before we say goodbye," said Pierre. "I have yet to cum in your lovely cunt and Claude has yet to sample the delights of your beautiful bottom."

The men positioned her how they wanted her - lying on her side, Claude behind and Pierre in front. They took her like that and all came within seconds of each other, grunting and sighing and in Leona's case, shrieking her satisfaction as the final excruciating climax drained the last of her strength. "No more, she sobbed with joy. "Please, no more."

When Leona crept back to her cabin all was quiet. Everybody appeared to be fast asleep. She went to her berth and undressed again in the dark and slipped between the sheets. Her body was sensitised and sore in places, but she was blissfully happy. She wondered if she would bump into the two men again in Morzine. Maybe they would repeat their adventure, and then again maybe not. The children would be occupied, but there was still mother to consider and entertain.

When the steward knocked at the door to announce their arrival at Morzine station, Leona thought she wouldn't even be able to stand up again; her whole body ached so much. Aching, but satisfied. She shrieked in horror when she saw herself in the mirror. The circles around her eyes spread all the way down to her cheeks, her lips were swollen from too many kisses and bites, her tangled hair gave her the look of a wild, wanton woman.

"I can't let mother and the children see me like this," she said to herself while brushing out her hair. She could hear the excited voices of the children next door, and the sounds of her mother moving about. "I'll have to get ready before I let them see me. And like she always did after a heavy night, Leona scrubbed-up well. The shower revitalised her and skilfully applied makeup hid the blemishes. Her head ached from too much drink but she was very happy. She felt desirable again, maybe a little slutty too, but desirable and her ego had received a welcome boost.

How wonderful to have entertained and satisfied two handsome young men at once. She wondered if last night had all been a dream, until she bumped into Pierre and Claude again as they were leaving the station for the coach transfer to the resort. She was buying the morning paper at the station kiosk while a porter was assisting the children and her mother with the luggage when Pierre and Claude arrived beside her. They all looked at each other rather sheepishly, their breath steaming white clouds in the chill air.

Coming face to face with them after such a night of intimacy wasn't easy. Everyone felt a little awkward and tongue-tied now in the hard light of day. They were affectedly formal towards each other considering the events of the previous night. No onlooker would ever have guessed what had gone before.

She paid for the paper, thought briefly about saying only a polite 'thank you' for the evening and then goodbye. But she heard herself say: "Goodness only knows what you two must think of me. Did I dream all that happened last night?"

"Possibly," smiled Pierre. "But I hope not.

"Perhaps we all dreamed the same dream," laughed Claude, and suddenly the tension lifted.

"You don't regret it, do you?" said Pierre. "You know, it's the first time we've made love to the same woman, together."

This revelation surprised her, considering their accomplished joint seduction. "For me too, it was the first time," she said, still red-faced.

Pierre cupped her chin. "You mustn't feel ashamed, Madame. We fell for you at first sight. It was a wonderful experience."

She kissed them each on the cheek, with the affection you might show to a good friend or a child.

"Yes, it was wonderful," said Leona. "Oh, while I remember... matches! I must buy some matches."

"Here," said Pierre handing her his lighter - this time no flame. "It's real gold. It was my grandfather's. I want you to have it... to remember us by."

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly."

"Isn't this where we came in?" laughed Claude.

"Please take it," insisted Pierre. "Think of us when you use it."

"I'll treasure it always," promised Leona.

She kissed them warmly, hugged them and said goodbye. Somewhere behind her, across the concourse, above all the other busy noise, she could hear the familiar voices of her children calling her: "Mummy, mummy... Hurry up, our coach is leaving.