Train Sex

When Fanguella awoke, she was first aware of the smooth warmth of his skin, the slight musky smell of him. She inhaled deeply, rubbed up against the length of his naked body with regret. Sex would complicate things for her. It would only serve as a temporary opiate, a possibly addictive one, and she needed to reach within her, not without. She was scared of further problems. She was not acting herself
Normally she would have simply taken what she needed, and gone on her way. But this time, she was feeling too vulnerable, too exposed. She was scared of becoming dependent on him. She couldn't afford to do that, she had left to become more dependent on herself, this did not fit in with her plan. Richard slept like the dead. She lifted the covers briefly, looked down his firm belly, smooth skin, and oh my Goddess. Her memory was not wishful thinking. He had a beautiful cock. Her lips parted her hand inched closer, she dropped her hand back to her side, sighed and lifted her suddenly tense body out of there as quickly as possible. She didn't trust herself to linger, she didn't even trust this decision to leave, but at this close proximity to him, she couldn't even think. Clothes she remembered in a sudden shock, lifting her naked body back up into the berth in a hurry, reaching for her clothes. Just as she was about to get her clothes, Richards’s hand caught hers with lightening speed. Morning. He said in a sleepy gravely voice. Hi. She responded breathlessly. Escape had been so close. That voice of his had been her undoing. She straddled him, arching her back cat like as she climbed up the length of him, planting a long and lingering kiss onto his luscious lips. He made no move to touch her, but returned the kiss. Slowly his hands rose to cup her face, holding her lips on his, smoothing her hair out of her face. She broke the kiss, clambered off the covers, lifted them over them both tent-like as she resumed her straddling position. She felt his chest hair on her breasts, her nipples, and she sighed into his mouth. His hands suddenly felt as though they were everywhere, trying to touch, trying to devour her completely, but always returned to her mouth, kissing dizzily. He took out a condom; she took it from him, opened it and popped it into her mouth. Moving down his body, she placed her lips onto his cock, and rolled the condom on in a smooth fast motion. In a moment she was on him. Rocking and grinding, his mouth on her breasts, her neck, whispering in her ear. Don’t stop. Only the words never left his mouth. He rolled over on top of her and she could feel the full length of his body against hers, the weight of him. He used slow and grinding motions, sexy, smooth. She arched her hips up, and together they increased the tempo, faster and harder, bruising, she scratched her fingers down his back, he bit her shoulder. They collapsed together; catching their breath, sweat mingling, bodies still joined. Sex. Better then numbness, better then pain, feeling only pleasure, and relaxation. Oh, yes, she said, that wasn't such a bad idea after all. Ummm. She said, stretching, "you could say that again he said, smiling, and she noticed for the first time that he had a dimple in his left cheek. Once their breathing had returned to normal, they helped each other dress, both still silent, or trying to be, as they would kiss the skin they covered, change their minds, and uncover that skin to kiss it some more, laughing silently. When they finally emerged from the berth, Pierre was emerging from his own berth, which happened to be the one bellow Richards. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, avoiding their eyes as he took his book to the dinner car. Was he listening to everything, or had he been awakened by them. Was he embarrassed by them, or by himself for listening, Fanguella wondered, suddenly excited that he may have heard them, lying below, feeling the motion of the train and hearing their moans of passion while he masturbated and fantasized to himself. That’s all your ganna get, thought Fanguella wickedly, all the while trying to picture the fantasy the he may have been having.