by Maximilian Lagos © 2007
All Rights Reserved. Not to be reproduced without the written permission of the author.
Printed in “Coming Together: As One”, edited by Alessia Brio.
Chris stared out the window, starting his sixth continuous hour. The landscape flashing by had lost his interest somewhere around Fargo, North Dakota, and now the barren fields were just numbing his brain.
One of the benefits to travelling for work was the private roomette Chris occupied on the west-bound train. He could have been in Seattle days ago if he was willing to go anywhere near an airport, which he wasn’t.
So it was the Amtrak “Empire Builder” line for him, servicing such exotic locals as Portage, Wisconsin and Cut Bank, Montana. Chris never really understood the word “alone” before travelling by himself. Not that he was a particularly social guy anyway, but tucked away in his private room made him feel much more, well, alone.
Even so, Chris considered cancelling his reservations in the Dining Car and having dinner in his room. But, the boredom was getting to him, and he needed to stretch his legs.
“Everyone holding a six-fifteen dinner reservation, please make your way to the dining car,” a voice echoed from the overhead speaker. Chris staggered from his room toward the dining car, rhythmically slamming his shoulders on the walls in the narrow corridor as the train rocked back and forth.
“Dinner tonight is by community seating.” The hostess smiled. “Please have a seat with this lovely couple here.”
Oh, crap, Chris thought. Stuck with some backwoods yokels, trying to avoid small talk and eye contact. I gotta eat fast and get out of here. He slid into the booth and smiled his best fake smile at his dinner companions.
“Hi, what’s your name?” the girl asked.
“Hi, Chris. I’m Wendy, and this is Martin. Where are you going?”
“Us, too! It’s our honeymoon.” Wendy gushed, smiling lovingly at Martin. They leant forward and pressed their lips together, Martin’s tongue roughly and rather lewdly penetrating his wife’s mouth. Chris felt a sudden pressure against his zipper as his cock responded to his unintentional voyeurism. He looked down at his menu to regain his composure.
“Congratulations…” Chris mumbled before the conversation was interrupted by Mary, the hostess bringing a fourth person to their table. Mr. Jenkins, as everyone learnt over their main course, was a ninety year old retired pharmacist, with ninety years of boring stories to prove it.
“So, Chris,” Wendy piped in, breaking a stimulating monologue about the benefits of using name-brand medications instead of generic brands. “Are you gay?”
Mr. Jenkins was mid-swallow of coffee and choked the hot liquid down.
“Why do you ask?” Chris replied, looking into Wendy’s laughing eyes. A quick check of Martin’s revealed to Chris, the other man’s interest in the answer as well.
“Well, partially to make Mr. Jenkins shoot coffee out his nose. But mostly because I am getting a feeling from you, and I can’t really figure out what it is.”
“Actually, I’m bi. I usually don’t give off gay vibes though. Hmm, maybe I’m not as far in the closet as I thought I was.”
Martin laughed. “No, more likely because my lovely wife is very sensitive to anything dirty.” Martin squeezed his wife’s hand with a smile. “She’s a true slut.” The two young men locked eyes across the table, Chris catching a flicker of something decidedly lusty.
“Well, excuse me,” Mr. Jenkins managed through his fluster. Standing and practically running from the car, he muttered something about needing a nap and disappeared.
“Well it’s about time he left, boring old fart,” Wendy laughed. “So, Chris, we have been fucking like rabbits since we left Chicago.” She leant forward conspiratorially. “We gave our attendant twenty bucks to leave our bed down and leave us alone.”
“Cool,” Chris took another drink of his Sierra Mist and let his mind wander to his last sexual encounter. It had been so long ago, most of the details were forgotten.
“I haven’t gotten laid in weeks. Once you’ve been married longer, you’ll know what I mean.”
“Aww, poor baby.” Wendy reached across and held Chris’ hand. “Why don’t you come back to our bedroom and fuck with us?”
Chris just looked at her blankly for a second. But only for a second. With a laugh, he said, “Sure, off we go then.” To his great surprise, his companions started to slide from the booth.
Realising they were serious and this was getting close to the actual fulfilling of his greatest fantasy, Chris practically dove from the booth. Wendy led the two men into the next car, the same one Chris’ little room was in. With a dramatic flourish, Wendy slid the door open, “Get in there, bitches. Mama needs to be serviced.”
Chris fell onto the dishevelled mattress, Martin practically jumping in on top of him. His weight pressed Chris deep into the bed as their mouths found each other. Chris sighed inwardly, feeling Martin’s stubble against his cheeks and chin. It had been three years since Rob had dumped him on Valentine’s Day, and Chris hadn’t felt another man’s lips since.
“Holy fuck, guys! Wait for me!” Wendy laughed, pulling off her clothes. Martin broke contact, playfully tugging on Chris’ lower lip between his teeth. He nipped and sucked on his wife’s offered neck, hands roaming her soft body as she hurriedly made him naked as well.
Turning her focus back to their guest, Wendy climbed onto the mattress, straddling Chris’ still clothed body. Slowly crawling and sliding her moist cunt until it was inches from his mouth, she whispered, voice hoarse with lust, “Eat me.”
Chris took a deep breath, inhaling her musk as Wendy lowered her wanting pussy onto his face. The first contact of her soft lips against his was like being hit by a bolt of lightning. Her cunt was sopping, and his face was awash with her essence in seconds.
Chris tried to match the rhythm of Wendy’s frantic grinding against his face but it was no use. She was rubbing her sex against his lips using a beat generated in her loins that only she could follow. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Wendy panted, leaning forward against the glass of the window to steady herself.
Strong hands at his belt brought Chris’ attention back to the fact there was a third person rocking back and forth in the train’s small bedroom as well. Unable to assist in any way without ending the tongue lashing he was administering to Wendy’s greedy cunt, Chris lay still as Martin opened the button on his jeans and unzipped the fly.
“Mmm,” Martin moaned as he bent forward to lay his lips on the fabric covered bulge of Chris’ demanding erection. The sensation sent a deep, guttural moan from Chris’ soul directly into the pussy mashed into his face, sending its mistress over the edge of orgasm.
The flood of Wendy’s thick juice took Chris by surprise but not as much as his cock being pulled violently from his briefs and engulfed by Martin’s hot mouth. Intense pleasure quickly overwhelmed shock as Martin sucked, licked, and nipped Chris’ manhood with a talent he must have spent long hours perfecting.
Chris tried to tell him to slow down… he was going too fast… getting close to his own eruption, but the mouthful of Wendy’s cunt he still had made him unintelligible. As she worked out her last shudders of bliss, he found himself unable to do anything but mumble and moan.
The exquisite pain of coming forced Chris’ hips off the bouncing mattress and nearly knocked Wendy to the floor. Martin grasped Chris’ tight ass and holding him aloft, kept the jerking cock deep in his throat. Chris could feel Martin struggling to drink all his offering but could not slow his ejaculation any more than he could stop the speeding train he rode.
Spent, Wendy flopped to the bed on Chris’ left and snuggled in close. Martin pressed his lean body against Chris’ right and both rested their heads on his heaving chest, kissing like newlyweds, tender and slow.
“Holy crap,” Chris moaned when he had collected himself enough to speak. “That was incredible.”
Martin brought his head up and kissed Chris on the neck, nibbling at his pulsing vein. “No, that was just foreplay. But I imagine we will hit incredible sometime before Seattle.”