Journey to London: A Stagecoach's Secret

'Doing the deed' on the stagecoach from York to London
As the passengers boarded the stagecoach I admired the four beautiful horses that would take us to the next inn. I was travelling to London from York as I'd secured a job at a trading company.
The driver and armed guard loaded the luggage on top of the yellow and black stagecoach as I stepped inside. There were five passengers on board. Sitting opposite were two elegantly dressed ladies who are both beautiful. One in her forties and the other in her early twenties.
Next to them was a stout well-dressed gentleman also in his forties and sitting near me was an elderly gentleman. I smiled at the ladies and the elder lady smiled back. The younger lady was expressionless.
The stagecoach pulled away and the horses hooves clattered against the road as a warm breeze blew through the windows. As we made our way through the streets of the city the elderly gentleman sitting near me dozed off with the swaying of the coach.
He's wearing a black wool dress coat, white shirt, brown pantaloons and brown leather boots with an unlit pipe in his mouth and his black derby hat on his lap.
The lady sitting opposite him introduces herself to us. Her name is Mabel Thornycroft and she's been traveling with me for some time now. She's a bit of an oddball, but I like her anyway. She tells us that we're almost at our destination and we can go inside the inn.
We enter the inn and it smells like a big house. The rooms are decorated with flowers and vines. We take out our clothes and get ready for bed. As I'm getting ready, I see Mabel's hand on my chest.
She pulls me towards the door and leads me to the room. She climbs up onto the bed and touches her head. She looks into my eyes and smiles. "We're here," she says, pointing to the beds.
I kiss her gently, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. We roll around on the bed, kissing each other passionately. The sound of horses clattering outside fills the room. As we get closer to morning, I can't help but feel more and more drawn to Mabel.
She's like a beautiful painting. She's colorful, playful and full of life. She makes me feel alive. And as the sun sets on York, I kiss her goodbye. We'll see each other in London.
After our time apart, we start feeling tired. As we lay down, we begin to make out each other's bodies. It's like a big game of hide and seek. Mabel looks at me, smiling. "I'm glad you're my friend," she says. I smile back. "Me too."

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