This was Ginger's first time on a train (not counting subways) and her first time in Europe. She had arrived in Germany just a week ago, flying in from her home in Atlanta, Georgia. She had booked this trip on the spur of the moment late one night after finishing the latest Nicholas Sparks novel. She needed this getaway from work. From home. From the anniversary of a bad memory. A year ago she had ended a relationship with her boyfriend of almost two years, Danny. She had come to the depressing realization that Danny was not the romantic, caring and loving partner that he had portrayed himself to be when they met. The final straw was discovering that Danny had been trying to rekindle a romance with one of his ex-girlfriends. It had ended in a tense confrontation with Ginger demanding he return his key to her apartment and to forget her phone number and address because she never wanted to talk to him again.
A year had passed and Ginger had tried dating but she was negative and unwilling to commit and she knew it. Every guy she met she immediately assumed he was acting and she quickly imagined a month down the road and him no longer opening doors for her, no longer sending her cute text messages, no longer trying to be a partner. And with that scene playing in her head she always rejected anyone who showed interest in her. She missed having someone to share little things with. She missed having someone notice the little things about her that she took pride in. She missed human touch. She missed a man's caress. She missed sex. She missed sex a LOT.
So one late night as she watched the Travel channel and finished off a pint of ice cream, she decided she was going to go away for a vacation. She booted up her laptop, clicked over to a European travel site and booked a train excursion on a luxury train that went from Munich, Germany to Paris, France and the back again with stops in between and time at both ends. She thought about asking her girlfriend Tabitha to go with, but decided she needed the alone time. She had landed in Munich on a Friday evening and arrived at the train station to find a beautiful old-world train waiting on the platform. Once aboard she was delighted with the real wood paneling, brass and velveteen appointments throughout the train. It was like stepping back in time when train travel was luxurious and exclusive. Her cabin was beautiful, lush fabrics, parquet paneling, and a lovely view out the window, traveling at a civil pace. The bed folded up into a very comfortable bench when not being used for sleeping. She loved everything about the train and her cabin and her trip so far except that she was feeling lonely and on those lovely nights as she looked out her window and felt the steady but subtle rumble of the train on the tracks, she longed to have a man touch her like she was having to touch herself.
She had gone to Paris, stayed over for a day but found the romantic nature of the city only made her melancholy having no one with who to share it. So as soon as the train was departing she had gotten back aboard for the return trip to Munich. Many others decided to stay over longer and would wait for the train to return in a week to pick them up and return them to Munich. And there were also many who boarded the train for their first time in Paris who would take the same trip but in the reverse order, Paris to Munich and back to Paris. Ginger sat in the lounge car at one of the little tables facing the boarding platform and sipped on a Grey Goose martini. She was wearing her favorite little blue dress that her friend Tabitha said she should wear any time she wanted every man in a three block diameter to be drawn to her like a sex magnet. Ginger had to admit it revealed her 36D breasts nicely and fell over her shapely hips perfectly, terminating several inches above her knees. She was wearing a great pair of five-inch black, strappy heels she had bought in Paris. She loved how they made her calves look and went perfectly with her authentic French pedicure she had treated herself to.
She knew she looked sexy. She knew the men in the lounge were stealing glances at her. She knew that she could drop the slightest hint and any of them would share her table and her cabin with her. She didn't care. She was too preoccupied with shutting out the idea of a man. Which is why she didn't notice him right away as he entered the lounge car.
Kurt had boarded the train in Paris. He found his way to his cabin, stowed his luggage and changed into a pair of black slacks and a white button up oxford. He put on his black wingtips, looked in the mirror, tousled his dark brown hair a bit and said, "Good riddance to Paris. You need a drink." He made his way to the lounge car and found a seat at the small bar just as the train gently lurched as it departed the platform.
He ordered a Bourbon, double and neat and looked into the mirror behind the bar tender. He saw that he needed to shave. He saw that he looked like he needed to sleep. And he saw an amazingly gorgeous sandy-blond sitting at a table alone behind him wearing a blue dress and sexy heels that caused his pulse to pick up involuntarily. He could not resist and he turned around on the bar stool so he could see her directly. She was incredible. She sat there with her legs crossed, sipping on a martini. Minimal make-up, hair naturally wavy and down to the middle of her back. He wasn't sure what it was about her, but he felt his manhood reacting and his mind was starting to conjure up what she would look like without that lovely dress. He was about to get up from his stool when she stood, finished off her drink, turned and walked out of the car. Kurt watched her hips sway and licked his lips as he watched her calves react to the tall heels. He contemplated following her. Then decided it was not the right time.
Then decided it was. He got up, paid for his drink and walked out of the car to follow her.
Ginger hadn't noticed him when he came in the car. She hadn't noticed him until he turned on his stool to ogle her. She at first felt irritated that another stupid guy was looking at her and thinking things that she would never in a million years give them the chance to carry out. Then she looked at him in the reflection of her window and he had an expression on his face that she liked. He was not smiling, that could be so creepy and she always hated it. But his face looked happy. He looked like he wasn't just looking at her, but like he was trying to send her a telepathic thought, he was so focused. She felt something stir in her and she instantly was uncomfortable with it. So she did what she always did, she decided to leave. She knew he would not follow her. He had just arrived in the lounge and soon it would be full of beautiful women for him to pick from. And she had no doubt that he could have his pick from them. He was built well and stood at probably just a bit over six feet tall. He needed to shave, but she still found him very attractive.
She was thinking about what his chest might look like as she walked down the corridor to her cabin. She realized she was getting excited thinking about him. By the time she reached her cabin she was very horny. She opened the pocket door to her cabin, pulled it to and immediately sat down on her bench. She propped one leg up on the corner of her little table and opened her other leg wide. She reached up and started feeling her breast through the thin material of her dress, having worn no bra she immediately felt her large hard nipple and she pinched it between two fingers and closed her eyes, moaning. With her other hand she reached down between her legs and pulled her wet panties to the side and without hesitation pushed her lovely long middle finger into her tight little wet vagina. She thought of the man in the lounge car and imagined her finger was his tongue, pushing in and out of her. She rocked her hips and slipped her ring finger in beside her middle finger. She lay her palm on her clit and massaged it as she slowly moved her two fingers in and out of her pussy. She massaged her breast more roughly, tugging at her nipple. She imagined the man sucking her nipple and biting it. She was moaning loudly and gasping. In fact she was so loud that she had not heard Kurt when he had knocked on her not-fully-closed door. Nor had she heard him clear his throat to get her attention. Nor had she heard him walk in and close the door behind him. She was nearing orgasm when she opened her eyes to see him – the man she had seen in the lounge car, the man she was fantasizing about as she masturbated - standing there with his eyes shielded by one hand, the other stretched out and holding her purse.
She nearly leapt off the bench. She almost fell but the man caught her and she felt his strong hands grab her and steady her. "What are you doing in my cabin!" she demanded after getting herself settled and standing straight and as far from him as the small cabin's confines would allow.
Kurt looked it and was embarrassed. "You left your purse in the lounge car and I was bringing it back to you," he said. "I came to your cabin door and it was open. I knocked and called out but you sounded like something might be wrong so I came in to help."
Ginger swallowed. Her pulse was racing. "How long were you standing there? How much did you see?"
Kurt wasn't sure what to say. He had come in and watched her for only a minute. He was uncomfortable. He was upset that he had upset her. "I'm sorry," he began. "I saw quite a bit."
Ginger had a torrent of emotions flooding her right then. Oddly though one of them was NOT anger. She said nothing for a moment and thought about the situation. At the end of the moment she realized she had this man that she lusted for standing in front of her and the ice was clearly broken. She was horny. And she noticed by the front of his trousers that he liked what he had seen. She made a decision.
"Will you help me finish?" she asked him.
Kurt swallowed. Was she asking him what he thought she was? "Finish?" he asked.
