Steel Rails, Wet Dreams, Lost Souls

The last drops of cum drained from the rigid body hovering over me. Looking at me but not seeing me, he lingered in the world I had created for him. A world not based on size or performance. Two unique persons, male and female, in an exclusive union. Without fear of rejection. A world of delirious delight. Of acceptance. A world we created for each other. And it was a good world.

He whispered, “God, I thank you for the gift of this woman who loves me, for her body to entice me, her breasts to excite me, and her cunt to swallow and satisfy me.” Spent, his body slumped against me, his penis slowly softening inside me. As he rolled off me, and lay on his back, he continued, “You have blessed me beyond anything I could imagine. I have poured my life into her and now, her cunt having milked me dry, my penis glows with the love she has lavished upon me.”

He fell asleep.

I continued with my own prayer of thanksgiving. “God, I thank you for the gift of this man, and for his penis. I marvel how you have designed my mouth and my cunt to bestow my love for him upon it. I marvel how the pleasure he exacts from my breasts and my cunt makes me crave the explosion of his pleasure upon me, and in turn pleasure me as well.”

**********

When morning arrived, he was still in his dinner clothes, his pants below his knees, a partial testament to the previous night’s orgy. My toy of “morning wood” was pointing straight up. It reminded me of a locomotive’s smokestack. I needed to fire up the boiler and make the white smoke appear.

I showered, dressed, and slipped out for breakfast. My toy appeared ready for more play-time when I returned.

“Do you remember the two couples eating dinner next to us last night?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“I saw them at breakfast just now. They had also been in the observation car last night. The wives saw us when the freight roared past. Your response when I flashed my boobs inspired them to flash their husbands and enjoy some sausage play. When I entered the dining car this morning, the two husbands raised a glass in my direction and smiled.”

“They had a fine example.”

“They certainly did. And now it’s a new day. This slut wants more dick.” I laid back on the bed and spread my legs.

“Last night wasn’t enough?”

“Not even close.” I reached for his erection and tugged at it.

**********

As a teenager, I longed for the day when a girl would pull on my erection, wanting me to fuck her. I believed it would never happen. There was the occasional thrill of an open blouse and heavenly revelations of boob candy. Beyond that, I believed I would never have the luxury of looking at a breast, let alone playing with it or sucking on a tit.

I have been so blessed to have Jen for a wife. What an experience it is to be in the presence of a naked woman, staring at her, hearing her urge on my lust with her legs wide open as she craves satisfaction from my erection. She wasn’t being profane when she thanked God for the gift of my dick. We could sing the doxology after the benediction while she discreetly rubbed my ass. Sunday dinner would be eaten cold.

How did this happen? It’s a wonder that I went from that teenage attitude to this reality, having my penis in her vagina, my face buried in her cleavage, and her whispering in my ear, “I’m so grateful to God for bringing you to my bed.” We even celebrated God’s gift of sexual pleasure in the same church sanctuary where only hours earlier Jen stood next to me in her wedding dress.

And now we also had moments like this one on the train. Back to that moment…

“You want to be drilled, don’t you?” I had learned Jen did not feel degraded when I used coarse language. “Your cunt needs a good drilling.” I eased up closer to her and poked the head of my jackhammer between her lips.

“You can do better than that,” she encouraged.

I hefted it out, paused, and let my hammer fall with enough force to make her boobs bounce. “Better?”

“It’s a good start.”

After a few minutes of intense “hammering,” my cream trickled out of her pussy. “How was that?”

“Quite satisfactory. Now we’re going back to the diner. You’re probably hungry for breakfast.”

**********

I loved it when a boy gave me the “once over,” particularly if I thought he was trying to look down my shirt. Well, some boys at least, not all of them. For one boy, I unfastened several of the buttons while his arms encircled my waist. That was the day I discovered that a peek at my boobs caused a dramatic reaction below a boy’s belt. There was a time I would have slapped a boy if he suggested I slurp his penis into my mouth. If my future husband were to ask to drill me, I would have considered him vulgar and walk out in disgust. So much changed when I met Al. We were so horny for each other and found it hard to wait. It felt good, proper even, to urge my new husband to go back to the church where we got married. For a girl who previously felt dirty for even thinking the word, I surprised myself and others when I told him I wanted him to fuck me in the sanctuary.

Al and I headed for the dining car. “While you eat, I’m going to play with your sausage. Later, we’ll spend time in the observation car, watching the scenery. Then we’ll come back here and see how well that sausage rests in the valley.”

“You want me to make love to your boobs?” he asked. I just looked back at him slyly.

We crossed rivers, passed through some tunnels, and hugged the sides of a mountain in a narrow valley. But soon, I insisted we go back to the room. I wanted to play with my toy before dinner.

I pushed the hand away that was worming its way between my legs to find my cunt. “Get in me. Just slide in and hold it. No thrusting. Relax and rest. Place your head between my breasts. I just want to hold you for a few moments. To feel your body on top of mine. To feel you in me, to feel your heartbeat inside me. To know that I am loved.”

**********

I slowly pushed my way into her. My nerves were on fire, from my brain, down to my toes and back up to my groin, to the tip of my penis. My feet strained against the bed’s footboard and my leg muscles twitched in an effort to push my rod against the walls of her love tunnel.

My mind entered another reality. No more dark, smoky eyes. No firm swollen tits. No tight ass. No strong thighs locked around my back. No slippery, wet pussy with its insatiable appetite. Simply two beings melding into one. For a few fleeting moments, male and female lay coupled as one, a sacred union, striving for that elusive oneness not known since the Garden.

The love of my life. Unlike the stallion I’d seen, rising up to mount his mare, I fought the desire to thrust like a battering ram. My fingers combed through Jen’s hair. My mouth, next to her ear, whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered faintly. My being felt like a balloon being blown up by a child seeing just how much air he could breathe into before it would pop.

Her vaginal muscles clenched. A pin pricked the metaphorical balloon. Instantaneous chaos. Twisting bodies. Grabbing at hair. Grasping at ass. Biting at offered necks. Grinding pelvis. Groping at breasts. Screaming. Grunting. Sucking on tits. Muffled moans while tongues mingled.

After that explosion of pleasure, the balloon fluttered aimlessly. Spent.

And two satisfied lovers lay, having arrived at their intended destination: exhausted and happy in each other’s arms.

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