Menage On A Train

He jerked his thumb toward the Aussie. “Genius here’s Nigel.”

I stuck out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Nigel.”

Nigel grasped my fingers. “Same here.”

“She’s Blanche DuBois,” Tom said, a wicked grin on his face. “Or, something like that.”

“Cass Weston,” I answered. “But, I still rely on the kindness of strangers.”

Tom got up and pulled my chair out. “Well, Cass Weston, it seems we’ll go to our place, after all.”

The narrow corridor that led to the cabins sported the same luxury as the rest of the train. On one side, large windows gave a view of the dramatic scenery. Granite boulders with stunted trees—nature’s bonsai—clinging in crevasses. Living sculpture, decorated here and there with blankets of snow. Inside, lamps mounted in the walls reflected warm light off wood paneling. A thick Oriental rug hushed the sound of our footsteps as we approached a doorway.

More people headed toward the sleeping compartments. All had come for the same adventure I had, but few of the women had two prospective lovers. I smiled to myself, and my skin heated. Part excitement and part shyness. I averted my gaze from the others, and when Nigel turned an antique key in the lock and slid the door aside, I crossed the threshold into even more beauty.

The steward had laid the room out for nighttime. My own cabin featured two seats that reclined together to form a bed. This one was larger and would easily accommodate three bodies. The comforter had been turned down to reveal silken sheets of royal purple. Matching pillows were piled high on top, each adorned with a foil-wrapped chocolate.

“They take their sin seriously in Rosnaya,” I said.

Tom lifted a dark eyebrow. “You approve?”

I walked to the bed and sat, smoothing my fingers on the sheets. “Absolutely.”

Nigel sat beside me, picked up one of the candies and unwrapped it. After breaking it into two, he popped one half into his mouth and lifted the other piece to my lips.

I accepted the morsel and sucked the remaining bits from his fingertips. Rich, dark chocolate, laced with a sweet liqueur. His eyes widened with surprise and delight. For good measure, I took his hand and ran my tongue over the palm.

“Sexy as all hell,” Nigel said. He glanced up at his friend. “You have good taste, mate.”

Tom crossed his arms over his chest and rested against the wall next to the compartment’s picture window. “You two make quite a picture. I’m glad we decided to share.”

“So am I,” I said.

“We’ll enter the tunnel soon,” Tom said.

The train began the long arc of a turn, showing off the entire chain of cars. Sure enough, up ahead stood a solid wall of rock with a dark maw where the stone had given way to drills and human ingenuity. No such passage could have existed in the days of coal-burning locomotives, which would have filled the space with soot and smoke. But, electric power could take us through safely and quietly.

We slowed as the first of the engines disappeared inside. No one with any sense could miss the parallel of a cock entering a pussy, but the image grabbed the imagination nevertheless. The train seemed to decrease its speed in order to let the pleasure of penetration linger. Indeed, at this rate, I’d have plenty of time in the darkness to enjoy both men to the maximum.

We seemed to inch forward as the tunnel swallowed up car after car. When our turn came, the blackness suddenly enveloped us.

Instantly, my other senses went on alert. The mattress beneath me, the lingering taste of chocolate in my mouth, the hum of the engines that seemed to throb through the floorboards. The sounds of men undressing came next: buckles being unbuckled, zippers unzipped and shoes hitting the floor. Two weights settled onto the bed—one on either side of me—and fingers went to my clothing.

I lifted my hand a few inches in front of my face but could make nothing out, the darkness was so profound. One of the men grasped my ankle, slipped off my shoe and massaged the arch of my foot. I hadn’t bothered with stockings, so his fingers worked directly against my skin. He rubbed all over, even separating my toes and pulling gently on them. He repeated the process with my other foot, smoothing out the aches on the ball and limbering my ankle.

Who would have thought of a foot as an erogenous zone? Either Nigel or Tom, obviously. I could have purred with pleasure. So intent on the magic his hands created, I almost missed the tug of my own zipper being lowered from the neckline of my dress to below the waist. Hands smoothed the garment over my shoulders and down my arms. Air washed over my shoulders and chest, and my nipples puckered against the lace of my bra. While one man’s hands skimmed upward over my calf, another’s lips slid into the hollow at the base of my neck, and his breath heated my skin.

I hadn’t imagined that the moments would pass like this. Fucking in total anonymity, yes. A sensual assault on every part of my body, no. My heartbeat quickened into a fluttering in my chest. The onset of true arousal. Yet, they’d hardly touched me. Soon, we’d all be naked, our bodies melded as one and then the other thrust his cock into me. With no distractions from the raw sensation, I’d feel every inch. As in my hottest dreams, nothing would exist but my own lust. Only this time, not one but two lovers would strive to satisfy me, and they’d be real, not illusory.

My bra clasp popped open, and the man pushed those straps off me, too. Now free of their confinement, my breasts grew supersensitive. When a hand closed over one and the palm grazed the already-erect nipple, tiny shocks of pleasure raced through me toward my belly and below.

The hand that had stroked my calf now traveled upward over my thigh. I closed my useless eyes and parted my legs in invitation for him to touch me more intimately. His fingers moved up and down, never touching my pussy, but it moistened, anyway. A mouth closed over my other breast, sucking and running its tongue around the tip. The first man did the same on his side, and I sighed my approval. I stroked both heads and let my fingers sift through their hair. I’d noticed the color, but not the length or texture, and so had no clue to their identities. But, who cared? With both my nipples hardened into points and a hand nearing my pussy, how exactly all this delight had come about didn’t matter. It only mattered that it wouldn’t stop until I’d shattered in climax after climax.

Fingers brushed my panties finally, and came away wet. Whoever touched me there massaged my own juices into the skin of my thigh and then touched me again—more firmly this time.

I moaned and trembled as my spine went limp. Damn, I’d known I was excited but not this excited. He could make me come doing that, but my first orgasm always felt the sweetest, and putting it off as long as possible would heighten the tension and make the ultimate release all the more powerful.

As if sensing that they should slow down, both men straightened, and one guided me onto my back among the cushions. The other gripped my dress and pulled. I lifted my hips to help him, and he removed the rest of my clothing in one movement. Now, I lay completely naked, as the train rocked gently on its tracks and the power of the engines seemed to thrum through me.

The same crinkling of foil sounded as when Nigel had opened the chocolate to feed it to me. Again, the sweetness parted my lips, but this time, my lover held it in his own mouth. We kissed, sharing the liqueur while we devoured each other. Our tongues touched and withdrew while our breaths came hot and fast.

The third packet opened somewhere between my legs, and after a moment, the other man spread the lips of my sex and worked something inside me. It melted, as the candy had on my tongue, and blended with my own wetness. Then he covered my sex with his mouth and lapped at me with his tongue.

Ye gods! He was eating chocolate from my pussy the same way his friend had done with my mouth. Could anything be more wicked or more divine? While one man continued savoring my lips with his own, the other sucked and licked at the lips between my legs.

The rest of the world slipped away, leaving only a red haze of need. Hands stroked my breasts now and toyed with my nipples, while a tongue caressed the folds of my sex. When he rasped against my clit, my body arched up into him. I couldn’t take much more of this without climaxing. And yet, I couldn’t make him stop if my life depended on it.