Riding Charlotte on the Amtrak
After stumbling into the wrong compartment, Jon has the ride of his life.
The Amtrak train from Los Angeles to Santa Maria has old fashioned cars. Ones like those depicted in old movies with individual compartments. The train is rather empty and I settle in one of these compartments and stare out the window. As the train begins to move, the compartment door slides open, and then bangs shut. Looking up, I am face to face with a stunning young woman.
“I’m sorry,” she says, “I thought this was my compartment.” She turns to leave.
“No,” I quickly state. “It’s my mistake. I didn’t know that they were reserved and I simply sat in an empty one. My first time on the train.” I gather my bag and stand to leave.
She doesn’t step aside and when I reach for the door handle, she touches my hand. “It’s okay, you can stay. I don’t need all this space. And, it is rather lonely.”
“Thank you.” I retake my seat.
She is tall and wearing a blue mini-dress with high heel boots. Sitting on the bench, she folds the satin material of her dress under her thighs. She delicately crosses her legs, barely containing her modesty in the short dress. I pretend not to watch, and pickup my ebook reader. Pretending to read, I study her reflection in the window.
As the sun sets, I reach to turn on the light switch. “No, don’t do that,” she whispers. She reaches over and pulls the shade down, covering the window between our compartment and the aisle way. “It’s better this way, don’t you think?”
“Sure.”
“Two strangers on a train is my favorite fantasy,” she says. “My name is Charlotte.”
“A pleasure to meet you. I’m Jon.”
She slides across the few inches separating us. My Adam’s apple bobs as I swallow twice. Our thighs touch. She tilts her face toward me. Her lips part.
Her intention is clear. I gently place my hand behind her head and slowly pull our lips together. Her kiss electrifies every muscle in my body. Breathless, we separate.
“It’s an hour until the next stop. In that time, I’m yours — your sex slave.” I swallow again. “Would you like to be my maser?” she whispers.
My body takes control from my conscious mind and I place my right hand on her knees. My left hand pulls her lips back to mine. Her breathing labors and her mouth opens, hungry for more of me. She doesn’t resist when my right hand pushes her legs apart. She reaches for the buttons on my shirt.
I push my hand further up her skirt until my fingertips touch the satin fabric of her panties. She opens her legs wider and I trace a finger along her slit — down and then slowly back up to her ridged nub. In response, she toys with my chest hair and then unbuckles my belt. She unzips my fly and reaches inside my boxers to hold my manhood.
In unison, we rise from the seat cushion and I peel her wet panties down while she lowers my jeans and boxers. Evidence of my arousal is immediate.
Sitting back down, I pull her on top of my erection. Straddling me, her knees sink into the velvet covered seat cushion beside my hips. I take her small bottom in my hands. Her cheeks are firm. With my guidance, she lowers herself onto me. I hold her tight around the waist and sit motionless as I struggle to suppress the urge to spend.
She settles her weight until I am fully inserted. Teasing me, she kisses my neck and nibbles my earlobes.
“Slow down, girl. You’ll get a spanking if you make me come too fast.”
Leaning back, she fixes her gaze upon me. “Yes, Sir.” Watching the emotion in her ice blue eyes, I lift her and lower her back down. The motion of my member inside her causes her to throw her head back and she moans. Lifting her from me, I lay her on the cushion. I pull the shoulder straps of her dress down, exposing her lacy bra.
Pushing the bra straps aside, I bare her breasts to the cool air. I dip down to suck on each nipple; they harden as my tongue caresses them. She moans and grips my hips with her thighs. When the pressure of passion within my cock eases, I re-enter her hot channel. We groan together as my thrusts bring us upward toward climax. However, the narrow seat becomes uncomfortable.
Pulling myself free of her, I stand. “Up on your knees,” I command. “Put your elbows on the armrest.” She turns and presents her posterior for my pleasure.
Holding her hips, I enter her again. My thrusts are now smooth and controlled. We watch each other’s eyes in the window’s reflection. The rhythm of the train adds to our ascending pleasure and she releases a short cry as her channel closes like a fist around my tool. I burst with my own orgasm. My manhood spasms and fills her with cum.
As our afterglow fades, I reach for my boxers. I use them to contain our love’s debris as I withdraw from her. She tries to rise up, but I smack her firm butt.
“Get back into position, sex slave! We still have fifteen minutes. Plenty of time to complete the spanking you so richly deserve. “
She turns to face me. Her jaw drops as the color drains from her face.
I initiate her punishment gently, unsure of how much pain she will enjoy. With my palm, I alternately smack her bottom’s cheeks.
“Yeeoww,” she shrieks, but my swats thus far could not have been painful. She wiggles her butt seductively, and I dial up the intensity. “Oohhh,” she groans in earnest, but does not cry out or attempt to resist me.
I pause and grip her tender flesh. “Do you remember why you are getting a spanking?”
“Ah, yes — yes, Sir. I tried to make you come too fast.”
“That’s right. So, do you deserve this discipline?”
“Yes, Sir, I earned a spanking.”
I continue alternating cheeks, though with a noticeably increased sting. I admire how her firm, pale skin turns pink with my hand-prints. She squirms a bit more, trying to pull away from me. I give her two extra sharp slaps.
“OUCH!”
I hold her. “What do you have to say?”
She nuzzles into my lap. “I’m sorry, Sir. I won’t misbehave again.” She sighs, and whispers, “Now, aren’t you glad we didn’t bring the kids?”
THE END
Copyright ©2023 by Mark S. R. Sterling All Rights Reserved
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