[Someone suggested a little story writing might make me feel sexy...so I thought I would try. More later if/when I get time, and if anyone likes this beginning...]


It was a long flight. Sixteen hours and two transfers to finally make it to your country, and I got the middle seat a substantial portion of the way. The last flight was the worst – I ended up with a seatmate who had an amazing ability to fart every couple of minutes. His continuous stream of silent killers had me gasping for air the entire flight. I was even willing to risk opening the overhead vent, despite the danger of catching a virus. The vents didn’t provide nearly enough air to help the situation.

Now I am finally of the plane, and I can’t wait to get out of the airport. It’s cold here, and I stop briefly to fish out my jacket from my backpack. I continue along the concourse as I wonder where you’ll meet me. You know I refuse to check luggage (thanks to some prior bad experiences) so baggage claim is out. I hope I’ll see you just past security, and that I don’t have to search too hard for you. My grasp of your native language is tenuous at best, and I am not sure if my pidgin German or French will be useful here.

I finish weaving my way through slower foot traffic and exit security, pausing just a few feet beyond the door. I scan the crowds looking for you. Although you’re easy to spot at 6’4”, I can’t see you nearby. I feel a moment of disappointment, but I decide to make a detour to the restroom and to delay any further panic or activity. There’s a line for the women’s restroom, but it’s still a preferable venue to the tiny one on the airplane.

As I leave the restroom, I scan the crowd again. This time I see your blonde hair and profile…you’re staring fixedly at the security exit and clearly expecting I’ll be walking through that door. I decide this is a golden opportunity to sneak up on you. I wind behind the crowd and outside of your peripheral vision, and start to make my way towards your back. As I reach you, I take my hand of my rollerbag handle and grab your ass with one hand. I slide my other hand around your tummy and run my fingers southward. You tense at first, and then relax as you recognize my signature maneuver.

We stand in this position for a moment, and then I walk around you. You put your arms around me, and we kiss…it’s a lingering kiss that both asks and answers the question about whether I missed you. We finally break apart, and you grab the handle of my rollerbag as we start to walk towards the airport exit.

I know we’re headed for the train, and that we have a two hour ride to your home town. I was fortunate that my flight landed when it did – we are catching the very last train of the night at 7:45 pm. Any later and I would have had to spend the night here and meet you in the morning. As it is, we rush to the train – it’s kind of a long walk, but I am grateful for the time to stretch my legs. You’ve already bought tickets, so we just hop on.

The bottom seating area of the train is pretty full, and you sense that I am sick of being around too many people. We venture up to the second/upstairs seating area, and I am pleasantly surprised to find that no one is there. We find some seats in the back, remove our coats, and settle in. It’s dark and drizzling outside, so there’s little I can see from the window. I find myself vaguely disappointed, as I love looking at the country side. However, I am sure that our conversation and gentle touches will keep me occupied.

As the train starts to move, you explain that this train has limited stops and we’re getting off at the fourth one. During the first part of the journey, we catch up. You tell me about your family get-togethers and I talk about how work is going. We both agree that we’ve missed one another, and that neither one of us is having any fun without the other. During this time, we hold hands and I occasionally put my head on your shoulder. I was tired when I was on the flight, but I find that I have more energy now that I am finally with you.

At some point during our conversation, I rotate my body in the seat so that my back is to the window, and my legs are tucked under me. That way I can look at you – enjoy your obvious enjoyment of having me around. I’m not really paying attention to anything but you, but I finally notice that you are eyeing my legs and my position. The long skirt I am wearing (my most comfortable travel outfit is a silk/cashmere blend sweater and a long linen skirt) has ridden up, and you can see a substantial portion of my thigh peaking out from the side slit of the skirt.

You notice me, noticing you, noticing me. Your eyebrow goes up and you get a wicked look on your face. You slowly disengage your hand from mine, and you use your fingers to slowly stroke the skin of my thigh. You glance at my décolletage, trying to get a better look at my breasts as your hand makes its way further up my thigh. You lean over and kiss me, as one of your hands rests on my thigh and the other one brushes my right nipple through my sweater and bra.

We continue to kiss for a few minutes, and I can feel that you want to pounce on me. All the sexual frustration that has been building up due to weeks of separation has come to a head, and we both want one another right now. We keep kissing, but with a new urgency. I want to see how far you’re willing to take this, how much you need me right now. But you pull back after a few minutes and take a deep breath. You start telling me about how you can’t wait to get me to your home, and how you are going to fuck me when we finally get there.

The train starts to slow, and I let you pull back. I’m concerned that someone might join us in the top part of the car…and I don’t want to get you or me into any trouble. The world hates Americans enough, and I don’t need to give them any further reason. We wait patently as new passengers board, but our talk comes more slowly as both of us can think about little other than touching each other.

We escaped with no one joining us in the upper compartment, and the train has started again. We have both gone silent, lost in thoughts. Our hands slide together once more, and you are stroking my fingers. In this moment, I decide to take some risks. I’ve never had sex on a train before, and it’s been one of my fantasies. You’re a little more reserved than I am, but I hope that you will follow my lead, since the upper compartment is empty.

I lean back in my seat, as I am now facing forward. I slide down a bit so my skirt rides up, and the slit in the side is facing towards you and is mid-thigh. I take your hand and transfer it to my thigh, placing my hand over yours. I signal you silently – through hand pressure – that I want you to slide your hand to my inner thigh, moving upwards. You give me a wicked glance, and comply. Maybe you are more interested in this game than I thought you would be.

As your hand glides up my inner thigh, and then strokes the lace between my legs, I nearly gasp. You know how tough it is for me to keep quiet during sex, and you give me a cautioning glance. I’ve just been signaled that noise will not be tolerated. I bite my lip slightly and resolve to be as silent s possible.

Your fingers trace over the lace of my panties, and start to rub my mound through the cloth. I feel terribly wet, and I wonder briefly if you can tell. I don’t have to wonder long, as you lean down and whisper…”you’re as wet as always…my little fountain.”

You lean down further and place a kiss on the side of my neck, followed by one on my lips. The kiss is lingering and I temporarily forget that you have your hands on my panties, until I feel your fingers moving my thong aside and slowly stroking my labia. I move one leg up and prop it against the back of the chair in front of us, opening myself to further touches.

You begin to stroke me, moving your fingers from my clit to inside me and back. You’re a master at this, and can bring me to orgasm with your fingers faster than anyone else has ever done. As your fingers are working magic, you lean down and kiss me again, I think mostly to silence the little moaning sounds that I can’t seem to stop making.

You pull back form my lips to whisper into my ear, “Cum for me.” Your fingers pick up speed and your lips go back to mine. In less than a minute, I feel my first climax…my thighs grip your hands and I feel a most wonderful release as I have a strong orgasm.

I can feel my juices dripping all over your fingers, as you slowly slide them from my skirt. As you remove your hand, you lick your fingers clean and express a desire to do that again as soon as we get home. As I lean over to kiss you, I can taste my juices on your tongue. I whisper what I want to do with you next….

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Life is too short not to love and be loved....preferably multiple times in one night.

I think men talk to women so they can sleep with them and women sleep with men so they can talk to them. ~ Jay McInerney