I was 18 when I went by train to visit my brother who was away in college. It was a trip of many firsts for me. It was the first time I got drunk. I was the first time I got stoned. It was the first time I threw up until my stomach was empty. It was also the first time I explored my sexuality and discovered my sensuality, desire, and the nature of erotica.
I was on the train heading home. It was late afternoon so I went to the observation car to watch the sunset beyond the mountains. I was still a virgin and my thoughts were swimming in thoughts of girls, sex, and intimacy. I lamented over a girl at school who I desperately wanted. I wanted to pleasure her and make her feel like a queen. I wanted to make her feel special, and, in return, feel a sense of worth I desperately lacked.
He sat next to me. It made me a little uncomfortable, since there were many open seats in the car. I did not look at him until he spoke.
"Hi"
"Hello" I return.
"Beautiful day, huh?"
"Yes. I like the way the black mountains contrast with the crimson sky."
"It would make a nice painting."
"uh huh."
"My name is Robert."
"Greg." I shake his hand.
We chatted for a bit about were we come from and where we were going. I became more comfortable with him as the conversation continued. He offered me to join him at dinner and I accepted. I returned to my coach seat and read a little before the first seating.
I found him in the dining car. Already, a glass of wine was before him. I sat down and looked out the window. The landscape is cloaked in darkness. The lights of the dining car drown out stars so there is nothing to see. We talk and talk. He owns a bar in Denver. He is full of stories. I find myself really drawn to him.
Maybe it is his lively blue eyes. They twinkle in the lights of the car. He has a strong jaw and a full well manicured mustache. He is well built. I find his hands strangely attractive. They are large, strong, and like is mustache, well cared for. I guess his age to be in the early 40s. I find myself gazing at him like a star struck teenybopper. I am enthralled with the wisdom and mystery that comes with age.
Even more odd, I am untroubled by my feelings. Perhaps it is his warm smile and easy laugh. The conversation flows well past dessert. My full cup of coffee has grown cold.
"So are you in coach?" I ask.
"Nope. I have a sleeper car."
"Are they nice?"
"A little small, but sure beats sleeping in coach."
"Yeah, I bet it does. I remember the restless sleep I got on the way to see my brother. Can I see your room?"
"Of course" he smiles.
He pays for both our dinners and I thank him. We walk towards the engine where the sleeper cars are located. Three cars later we arrive at his room. It is at the end of the car. He opens the door and turns on the light. He lets me enter before him.
The room is small, but nice. To my left is a single bed. In front are a big window and a small table that folds in to the wall for more space. There is a vase with fresh flowers and 2 bottles of complimentary champagne on ice. Next to the table is a chair. There is a bathroom to my right. The bathroom is also a shower with a handheld sprayer attached next to the toilette.
I notice the room is well insulated. The rhythmic ka-chunk of the tracks is muted to a pleasant muffle. He shuts the door behind him and stands behind me. I turn and shut off the lights.
"That's better. I can see the stars with out the light on."
I feel his hand, strong, warm, and confident on my shoulder. I feel goose bumps all over my body. His hand reaches my other shoulder. He rubs me. I melt in to his touch. I feel his breath on my neck. He kisses me. I shudder. His masculine moustache tickles my virgin skin. His hands smooth over my body as he hugs me from behind. One hand leaves me as he turns to lock the door.
I feel electric. His hands return to explore me. I feel the blood rush to my penis. I loose myself in the caress of this older man. He is so confident and gentle. He is gentle in a way that only amplifies the power in his strong body. I imagine what he could do to me...what he will do to me.
I am so inexperienced. I can only stand submissively as he explores me. He untucks my shirt and pulls it over my head. His wonderful hands touch my skin. I moan his name. He kisses my neck again and my body is consumed in the sensation. I lean my head against his shoulder as he ravishes me.
His hands slide up my flat stomach to my hard nipples. He pinches them between is fingers.
"Wow!"
I feel his warm breath on my saliva cooled skin escape in a chuckle. He is so experienced. He is magical. He is beautiful. Our age difference separates us not only in time, but also in self-knowledge. He may have made love to hundred men for all I know, but this is my first time. I let him guide me deep in to my first sexual experience. He is such a gentle and sensual man. I feel no reservations. I drink in the moment.
He moves from me. My body craves his attention. I feel disappointed but I do not voice it. I am in a strange land, experiencing wonderful foreign things and I fear speaking will transport me back to the dull world I left when I entered his cabin.
"Champagne?" He asks as he opens one of the bottles. He flashes me a wonderful smile. I adore him.
"Sure." I absently answer. I am still reveling in living dream.
"You OK?" he chuckles.
"I have never been more alive, or erect" I smile back.
He laughs and hands me my glass.
"What shall we toast?"
"How about new horizons?" I offer.
