I had been strolling along the corridors of the train, looking for the bar car to kill some time on this ungodly three day ride through Europe.
We had only been 3 hrs. into the trip and already I was bored and I had no interest in writing my stories, I was too tense and needed to unwind, and then she appeared, this vision of loveliness before me. She sat working on her computer as I walked nearer, inhaling her fragrance as it wafted through the air. She had long reddish brown hair, with these amazing eyes. Her lips formed to make a tantalizing smile as she stopped to read over whatever she was writing. She was wearing a blue dress that only enhanced her white soft skin, that showed off her delicious cleavage and instantly it began to make my cock twitch. Damn, that fucking piece of meat always was uncontrollable, with a mind of its own always seemingly at the wrong time.
I guess her to be late thirties early forties at the latest. Well now the bar car was going to have to wait and I took a seat nearby so I could watch this beautiful specimen of a woman. It is funny because I have always said if you are aware of your senses, you could read people without knowing them, picking up whether they were sensuous, sexual, or down right kinky. This woman was all three, I was sure of it, she just reeked of sex, and I do not mean her scent literally. But there was this aura, mystique about her that just said fuck me if you dare. That she gave as good as she got.
I slowly worked my way behind her, pretending to want a change of views ever few minutes. Finally I was behind her, and casually I tried to look over her shoulder and past her. It was then I asked her about a wooden bridge pan coming up, playing the tourist card. Expecting a French or Italian accent, I was shocked to hear that North American twang instead of the foreign accent coming out of that sweet mouth.
As she told me she was not sure and was just on her way back to Italy where her husband was stationed. I looked down and was startled to see the words, fuck, suck, cunt on what she was working on. I mean I did not get a chance to read it all, but somehow those words jumped right out at me. Damn, I knew I was right, this beautiful thing was definitely in to the erotic and that was something I could relate to being a writer of erotica myself. She looked back smiling at me and I could feel an instant attraction. Her white teeth shone, and her eyes danced. She asked me to sit across the table and talk as it would help pass the time away. She closed her laptop, and it was then I suggested maybe finding the bar car and we could have a glass of wine or something. It is funny, being a writer, you seem to think the words will just flow, but in real life, we stutter and stammer the same as the rest of people.
We waited for a conductor to walk by and he told us where the bar car was, and off we went in search of liquid courage.
I ordered a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, and she has a Pinot Grico. We looked into each other's eyes and I am sure we both knew we were going to fuck somewhere on this train before we got off. We smiled, we laughed, and we talked. We were both married, I was 14 yrs. older than her, and she had lived overseas for a few years now. Her husband on a base and she tinkered in graphic design part time, as her husband did not really like her working. It was funny, the drinks just made the honesty flow, and I told her she was fucking smoking hot, to which she blushed and said for an older man, you are definitely potential lover material. I was floored to say the least, but turned on and honoured as well.
We had another drink and then it was my turn to be bold. I had seen a bit of your writing when we were back I the scenic car, I noticed a few choice erotic words, and do you write?
She blushed and told me she dabbled as an amateur writer, specializing in erotic fantasies. I grinned ear to ear, and toasted her, and said so do I!
Well as things unravelled, she asked me where I wrote, and I shyly told her, I posted on a UK site called Short Fiction. She damn neared keeled over, grinning ear to ear; she said that is where she posts. What? I exclaimed. Really? She said what name do you write under, and I told her TheChameleon. Her jaw dropped and she grabbed her chest gasping for air. She looked at me with the most magnificent smile I had ever scene. You are not going to believe this, I am clickingthekeys!
What the fuck were the odds I would meet not only another author from the site, but probably the woman whose works most resembled what I wrote. We were both known for dominant sex orientated erotica, and we had conversed a bit back and forth the last few months always congratulating each other on the others stories, even exchanging fantasies of what we would do if we ever had the chance to be together, and now it was really here.
I would not normally say that fantasy images of a person would ever exceed in real life, but this one did. She was a sex goddess if there ever was one. Clickingthekeys was every bit the temptress you read about in her stories. She leaned forward and one of her fucking tits almost spilled out and the glimpse of her hard puffy nipple made my mouth water. She smiled at me, and said maybe we should get a couple of bottles of wine and head back to her sleeper car.
Once in her car, she wasted no time stepping into my arms, kissing me as if we had been lovers for the last 10 yrs. Our lips locked in the most natural way, as if we had been meant to be together. It was not rushed, but not waiting either, just exploring, tasting.
My hands dropped down and gathered in the most fucking perfectly shaped bum I had ever held.
