Back in the early 1970s, Amtrak had exactly two TurboTrain sets in operation between Boston and New York. If you wanted to catch one of them on for a trip, you could call in the morning and find out when they were scheduled to operate. They had gas-turbines engines, not the diesels or electrics commonly used by the company.
They were fun to ride because they had an air of futurism, a feeling that "someday all passengers trains will be like this." When I first rode them in 1973 they had already been around for five years, longer than Amtrak itself had existed. Originally they had been assigned to the short-lived Penn Central Railroad. At the creation of the new passenger corporation, they were among the few units of modern equipment the fledging entity owned.
The coaches had low-slung bodies very different from the conventional trains of the period. For the passengers, the best amenities were raised observation domes at either end of the consist. The operating crew was in the front dome with only a Plexiglas window separating them from the riding public. I don't know whether or not they were bothered by all of those people looking over their shoulders. I do know that these were the only dome cars to ever operate on the Northeast Corridor.
One day in the late spring of 1974 I was riding up to Boston with my friend Mark and a girl named Sharon Kimmel, who was the girlfriend of another guy I knew. All four of us had graduated from the same high school the year before, but only Sharon's boyfriend, who was named Jeffrey, had chosen to attend Boston University.
I had known both Mark and Jeffrey since junior high school. Jeff had seemed like a rather nerdy guy in the early years that I had known him. Now, however, he was getting laid on a semi-regular basis which increased his status in my eyes considerably.
On this Monday afternoon, Sharon was coming up for a few days to visit him. They had started their affair in high school, and they had decided to continue even though they were now living in different cities. Mark and I were basically going to Boston for our version of spring break.
At one point, we were riding backwards in the rear dome portion of the train. Sharon was a short, dark-haired girl and she was wearing blue jeans. At that moment she was in the far seat beyond Mark, and I was across the aisle. She must have been feeling frisky because at one point she sat on Mark's lap for no reason I could discern. I don't know if he took it in stride or not, but a few minutes later she moved across the aisle to sit in my lap.
I was a virgin at that point who had never so much as kissed a girl. Sharon's tight little buttocks against my crotch gave me an instant, and huge, erection. It was so pleasant that I forgot to be embarrassed about it.
She must have noticed it, because she began a subtle sliding motion against me, going side-to-side and then front-to-back. Mark, meanwhile, seemed oblivious and the three of us kept up some conversation I was barely listening to. I gently put my hands on her waist and held her.
After a few more moments, she looked back at me with an appraising glance. I have no idea what my own expression was, but I caught her look. She leaned back and whispered, "Come with me."
Where were going was the coach directly in front of us. We had to go down a short staircase, and then we entered a car that was no more than one-third full. I followed Sharon to the last row in the back. The seats in that car were also facing backwards, and there were no other passengers within six rows of where we were sitting.
Without saying anything, she gestured for me to sit in the window seat. Then she got on my lap again. This time she was much more forthright in the way she was grinding the seat of her jeans into the crotch of my own pants. Her hands were on the seatback in front of her so that she could brace herself.
