The Two-Step Symphony

Brick was not normally an idle conversationalist, but he'd been chatting—as she'd put it—politely and willingly with her and was looking forward to more. Usually, he was arrogant with the high society types because they so frequently had uppity attitudes, but he'd kept a civil tongue without even having to force himself. Inviting him to stay had been one of the kindest things to happen to him in quite a while, and he wanted to not because he wanted to sleep with her—well, he did, but not because of his usual animalistic desires—he simply enjoyed her company. Was it reasonable to assume that because of her actions Chris felt the same?

"Do you guys really travel around in busses?" Chris asked, breaking the silence.

"Most of the time."

"Must be an awful way to travel," she commented with a grimace.

"You get used to it, but this is my favorite kind of transportation," he said, referring to the train.

"Actually, this is the first trip I've made by train instead of flying. I ride commuter trains in New York, but someone said that there was some incredible scenery on this route. They also said it would be relaxing. I guess this shaking movement just takes getting used to." She shrugged. "I think I still prefer flying."

"Then I hope you're not taking the train all the way to New York."

"Oh, no, just to Denver. I'm going to hear a twelve-year-old pianist who supposedly plays Chopin incred—. Well, they say she's good."

Before cutting herself off, Brick noticed that Chris' excitement level rose considerably when she was discussing her music. He mentioned this to her.

"Well, it does excite me. It also satisfies all my other moods like no other kind of music does."

"What other kind do you listen to?"

"Jazz occasionally. But more as a diversion. Of course, Broadway, and I have friends who listen to rock music so when I'm with them I do also, but I'm not overly fond of it. I'm sorry to say that the little country I've heard I don't like."

"That's okay. I've never heard any classical music I particularly liked." Brick shrugged. "Country is what I grew up on. It was all my parents ever listened to. It was what I learned to play when I got my first guitar at fifteen. In fact, until then, I don't think I knew there was anything else."

"Yes, I know what you mean. When I was a child, my father was absolutely strict about what music was played in his home: positively only classical. I was reared in the arts, so I guess it's no surprise that I work in that area."

"Well, for me, it was either playing country music, ranching, or hitting the rodeo circuit. I chose playing music because I thought it was safer. Now, I'm not so sure."

"You sound as though you're tired of it."

"I think I'm just ready for a change," Brick answered with a shrug. "I've owned my ranch for nearly three years and I barely spend ten weeks a year there. I'm looking forward to going back and being away from it all for a while."

"How long is a while?"

"As long as possible."

"You can stand to be away from the city that long?"

Brick chuckled because she made it sound as though no one actually lived out of the city. "Chris, I've never lived in a big city and I have no desire to."

"Oh, I don't think I could ever leave the city. There's always so much to do: the symphony, the opera, museums, the theater, restaurants, and the people!"

"All the things I don't like. You know, it's amazing that we've been sitting here for—" Brick checked his watch "—nearly three hours and we have absolutely nothing in common."

"What do you suppose that means?"

"I hope it doesn't mean you're now going to ask me to leave." He said it jokingly knowing she could do it at any time—and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Well, there must be something. I'm sure sooner or later we'll get around to it."

"It's lunch time. I could go for a beer."

"Sorry, I don't drink beer."

"Oh, well."

"But I will have a glass of white wine with lunch."

"Close enough." Brick stood. "After you, Miss Cannon."

"Thank you, Mr. Henry." She snickered at his formality. As they walked to the club car, Chris made a suggestion. "I'll try your beer if you taste my wine."

"Deal."

But he thought her wine was bitter, she found his beer harsh. So, for the next two hours they had lunch while they discussed their likes and dislikes in search of at least one thing, however minuscule, that they had in common. It became a game between them. The fact that they could find nothing in common in all that time really mattered little because, despite it all, they still enjoyed each other's company. And the more they failed at finding something in common, ironically, the closer they became.

From the idle chatter they began with in the compartment, their conversation warmed up to the impartation of deeper personal background when they were chased out of the dining car and they moved to the club car. Then a simple touch of Chris's hand by Brick to emphasize a point resulted in a similar action by her. A while later, their fingers were touching innocently, a prelude to hands fondling, a further overture to holding hands. It was with his arm around her that they returned to the compartment to freshen up for dinner.

Chris did not ask Brick to step out while she readied herself. Even though this would have afforded him some views he would have truly liked to see, he thought it was the gentlemanly thing to do. It was a gesture that touched her, and one that further surprised him about himself.

By dinner time, conversation naturally graduated to intimate.

"So, why hasn't a young, sophisticated, intelligent, attractive woman like you ever gotten married," Brick wanted to know.

With an "oh, well" expression, she answered, "I'm still waiting for Mr. Right."

"It's hard to believe you don't have dozens of men courting you."

"Oh, there are a lot of men in my family's circle of friends, professional men from what you would call high society families, who would love to have me for a wife. But I'm not ready to enter a marriage because my family background mixes well with someone else's, or from some guy who's looking for a wealthy wife. I guess I'm just peculiar. I want a marriage based on old-fashioned values: love, honesty, trust. Do you think I'm dreaming?"

"No, not at all. There's nothing worse than having a partner just out of convenience."

"Sounds like you've had some experience in that area. Is that why you've never married?"

"Just about all the women I've met in the last six years have been out of convenience—because I was in Bull Conroy's band. There really wasn't one of them I would have liked to get to know better."

"Did you sleep with any of them?" Chris asked, a hint of embarrassment in her voice. She then quickly added, "I'm sorry, I don't have the right to ask that."

Brick smiled. "I think you already know the answer. But I can tell you one thing. Sleeping with a different woman every night is not all the fun and games most guys think it is. It takes all the intimacy and tenderness out of making love."

Chris took one of Brick's hands in both of hers. "Why, Brick Henry, you're just an old-fashioned romantic at heart."

"Yeah, that's what I've been accused of because of some of the songs I've written for Bull. I haven't been that for a long time, but I hope to get to it."

"It sounds like you want to find a good woman and settle down."

"I've been thinking about that a lot lately." You're a good woman, Brick thought to himself, a very good woman. But one with whom he had absolutely nothing in common, and thus, no further chance with.

Brick checked his watch. Nine-thirty. Dinner was over, and with it came the grim reality that so was his time with Chris. He was silent as they returned to her compartment, the dim prospect of passing the rest of the night in a seat in coach weighing on his mind.

"You're mighty quiet," Chris noted. "All talked out?"

He forced a smile. "No, I'm just not looking forward to the rest of the night in coach."

"You've had enough of me?"

"Well, no," Brick answered, frowning.

"Then, why go?"

"I just assumed you'd be ready for bed," he said with a shrug.

"Maybe I am, but I don't usually go to sleep this early."

Brick squinted his eyes, then opened them wide in a gesture of confusion. Did she just suggest what he thought she did? He was not used to playing these games. The girls that he usually slept with were completely obvious in their intentions. They didn't make these little suggestive remarks—if indeed that's what that was. Would it cost him a slap in the face to find out? He hoped not. He'd had sex with a lot of women out of convenience. Chris was the first to come along in quite a while that he actually wanted to go to bed with. Did he really have a chance?

Eagerly, Brick followed Chris into the compartment, and watched as she slipped her purse into a storage slot. She noticed that the couch had been made into a double bed, so she turned to Brick with a mischievous grin. "Did you arrange this, you sly devil?"

He hadn't noticed it before, but the large number of glasses of wine Chris drank were beginning to show in her slightly slurred speech. Suddenly, it occurred to him that perhaps alcohol loosened her up sexually. Some girls, that's what you hoped for, but not Chris. Brick positively did not want to take advantage of her. "No, the porters do it automatically."

"Oh." For a second, he thought he detected an ounce of disappointment. "Well . . ." Chris then plopped down onto the bed with no regard to the position of her skirt. With the hemline around mid-thigh, she kicked off her shoes, and gestured for Brick to sit down.

He obliged but took his seat at the opposite end of the bed. Her response was to slide down to a supine position, resting her feet in his lap. He took a chance and eased onto his side propping his head in the palm of his hand. She eyed him with what he took to be a dreamy look. He wasn't used to this slow approach. The girls he usually slept with just jumped right in, ripping clothes off. As a result, he found he had the jitters. Well, it was now or never.

From his new position, Chris' legs were elevated higher, causing the bottom of her dress to slide further, exposing more skin. Involuntarily, Brick's hand went to her nearest leg and began massaging. He was careful to watch her expression for any sign of repugnance. Instead, she merely closed her eyes and allowed a hint of a smile on her lips. Undoubtedly, he had it made.

And for that reason, he abruptly stopped. Chris' eyes flashed open in an instant, forming a question, but she said nothing. Brick realized that an explanation was in order.

"I can't do this," he said simply.

"Why?" was her obvious follow-up.

"I feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

"In what way?" She eased herself up to a position similar to his but facing him.

"You had a lot to drink—"

"Oh, you think I'm intoxicated and don't know what I'm doing." She smiled. "That's very considerate of you, and I'm sure, quite out of character—which makes it all the more charming. This may be out of character for me, as well, but I can assure you, I'm well aware of my actions, and I'm doing nothing against my will." And with that, she quickly undid her dress and removed it, revealing sexy bra and panties that matched the cream color of her dress. She leaned against the wall and sat sideways, bringing her legs up and folding them.

Brick couldn't help but stare at her gorgeous body, mouth agape. He quickly snapped himself out of it. He returned his hand to her thigh, rubbing up and down gently. He leaned in and kissed her tenderly. She responded in kind. He still didn't feel right about this. In fact, he concentrated hard on performing in a romantic, loving way because he thought that was what she was accustomed to—instead of the rough and tumble style which was his usual method.

Chris pulled back after a few moments and he thought, she's come to her senses. "The men I've had sex with are all proper and gentlemanly," she revealed. "Almost to the point of being boring. I don't want boring, Brick. I want to feel something. Please don't treat me like you think I should be treated. Let's make this something we'll both remember."

With a deep breath, Brick bent down, tenderly lifted her breast out of the cup of her bra and sucked her nipple.

"Mmmm, yes. Now, that's what I'm talking about. Take it off."

So, he reached around and one-handedly unclasped her bra. She then pulled it off and tossed it onto the opposite seat. He went back to sucking tit and let his hand slide up her thigh. She sucked in her breath when his finger touched her pussy. She was wet, and he felt it on her panties.

"Uuunghhh," she whimpered. "Yes, yes."

Brick finally realized that she really wanted to experience some hot sex. He was now ready to give it to her. He grabbed a pillow and propped it against the wall. He eased her against it, partially sitting, partially lying. Reaching for the elastic of her panties, he glanced up for approval to continue. She merely gave a single nod. Once he had them off and threw them over to join her bra, he bent down to lick her pussy. He was surprised to see that she was shaved clean.

Brick felt Chris tense as he stuck out his tongue to make contact. She again sucked in her breath and shivered when he swiped her clit. He kissed her inner thighs before applying full mouth to her vagina. Separating her labia, he jammed his tongue into her hole. A stream of moans accompanied what he was doing to her. He used every trick he knew on her: sucking her clit, zig-zagging his tongue up and down.

Chris whipped her head from side to side, immensely enjoying having things done to her she had never before experienced.

When he thought she was ready, he moved into position to slide his dick inside her, but she halted him. He feared this was over before it really started.

"No, I always do it in the missionary position."

With a simple nod, Brick pulled her up and arranged her on hands and knees. She grinned her approval. He bent over and in one swipe, licked as much of her pussy as he could reach, up her perineum and the crack of her ass.

A muffled yelp escaped her lips. "Yes, yes."

For good measure, even though he thought she was pretty wet, Brick spit in his hand and lubed his cock before gently sliding it into her hot pussy.

Her "Mmmmmmmm," was several octaves higher.

Brick stopped when he was in the hilt to see if she was okay because she was wonderfully tight. He loved the warm embrace of her inner walls and couldn't remember consciously feeling that in a while. A wiggle of her ass signaled him to proceed. He pumped at a moderate pace.

With every thrust, Chris let out an, "Ah." She even commented how wonderful it was.

After a few minutes, Brick asked, "Wanna try something different?"

"Like what?"

He took a chance with his choice of words. "Well, you're fucking a cowboy, you ought to do it cowgirl."

With a huge grin, Chris watched as Brick pulled out and laid down on his back. He then helped her mount him and guide his cock back in.

"Ooh, I like this, too. I feel like I'm in control."

"Ride 'em, cowgirl."

She bounced up and down a little bit, and then leaned over pressing her tits to his face. He didn't hesitate to suck her nipples as he took over thrusting upward at a slightly quicker pace. She got the hang of it and started meeting his thrusts and rotating her hips.

"I love it because each position feels different. All good, but different," Chris said between moans.

"That's what good fucking is all about."

"I also love it when you talk dirty."

Did she not know that that was how his kind of people talked? "Turn around."

"What?"

"Face the other way."

Awkwardly, Chris rotated while trying to keep his cock inside. Once she was completely reverse cowgirl, he resumed pumping. He pulled her back to lay on his chest, and he reached around to rub her clit with his fingers.

"Oh, that's amazing!" she shouted.

Not long after, Brick rolled her onto her side without pulling out. From this position, he was able to turn her head enough to kiss her.

Chris's moans intensified, and her breathing quickened. Brick thought sure she was about to come, but he wasn't sure because he never worried about the girl climaxing. He knew they did, but he wasn't always conscious of it and didn't always know the signs. He became certain when Chris kind of took over and squirmed onto her back, causing Brick to slip out. But she quickly pulled him into the missionary position. Once he re-entered her, she grabbed his ass cheeks to control his thrusts. It seemed she wanted it rough, so he really plowed her.

In moments, she was thrashing about until she clasped her legs around his waist and held still. He could feel her pussy pulsing as her muscles tightened up. She was whimpering the entire time. When she finally went limp, Brick pulled out, close to coming himself, and jerked himself to spray cum all over her abdomen.

When he was finished, he let his cock rest on her skin just above her pussy until it gradually shriveled up. The entire time, he was watching her face.

"That was terrific!" Chris finally exclaimed. "How about you?"

"Yes, wonderful," Brick agreed, enthusiasm in his voice.

"Then I think I finally found something we have in common."

He let out a chuckle. But it made him wonder. As different as they were, and given the amount of time they had not only spent together, but actually enjoyed, and now they'd passed the ultimate test, was an actual relationship that far out of the question?

"Brick?" Chris broke into his thoughts. "Do you think . . . no, never mind."

"What?"

"No, it was silly. Forget it."

"Well, I have one for you." What harm could there be in discussing the possibility of a relationship. "Is it possible . . ." He could be making a giant fool of himself, that's what harm. "Never mind."

"Is this a game? What were you going to say?"

"It was silly also."

"Well, since we're both being silly," Chris noted, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

Brick eyed her with mock suspicion. "You first."

"You drive a hard bargain, but okay. I was just lying here thinking about . . . well, do you think you and I could have a relationship—hypothetically, of course."

"Funny, I was wondering the same thing."

"What I mean is, can two people who have nothing—well, at least, only one thing—in common, who come from radically different backgrounds survive together on just—" she shrugged "—love?"

"Since we're really talking about you and me, I'd like to say yes. But the truth is, I really don't know. What do you think?"

Chris thought for a moment, then answered, "Of all the things we talked about today, you didn't particularly like any of the things I liked, and vice versa—not that I wouldn't be willing to try—"

"The question is," Brick interrupted, finishing for her, "is it worth trying? And neither of us wants to answer that."

"That's because we both know what the answer really is."

"That it wouldn't work."

Chris nodded. "So, let's just make the most of the time we have now. Perhaps one day we'll meet on another train somewhere."

And with that, they went to making love again, with a little more ferocity than the first time, and ultimately more enjoyment. Afterward, they both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Awakening today was vastly unlike awakening most days of the last few months, perhaps even years, for Brick Henry. The major difference this time was that he instantly knew not only where he was, but also who the woman beside him was. One further twist of irony was that he normally couldn't wait to get rid of the nameless faces he'd slept with even though they were willing to stay as long as possible.