The Train

Every night, for the past two weeks, Eva had dreamt she was on the same train, with the same man.

Sometimes he had a wife with him. They sat across from her in the carriage. The wife didn't acknowledge her presence. But he stared at Eva intently, and it gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Eva didn't need to look down to know she was dressed in the same outfit that she wore every night. She could feel the pressure of the corsetry, the heaviness of the full-length skirt. And the upper parts of her breasts were pushed up on display, she knew, because she could feel the air on them. Her hair was up, she didn't know in what style. The man's wife was also in period dress, and so was he. They seemed upper class. Eva wasn't sure of his name; she believed it was something along the lines of Steven.

Every time Steven had his wife with him he would touch her, but keep his gaze on Eva. The wife would flutter her thick lashes and smile as Steven gently stroked her arm. Then she would arch her back and moan in exaggerated fashion as his fingers grazed over her collarbone, along the upper half of her enormous breasts. The rest of her body was bound protectively with swathes of ebony silk. Eva despised what she perceived as the vulgarity of this woman. She would wake up as soon as Steven finished touching the wife's breasts.

On this night, however, Eva didn't wake up, and the dream took a different turn. Steven began to kiss the wife's neck. He licked its length with his head turned slightly, his eyes still on Eva. The flesh beneath Eva's dress started to get sticky and hot. She was torn between anger at this outrageous display before her, and an overwhelming desire to be the wife, who was receiving so much pleasure. Eva squirmed from the heat that was gathering in her very depths. It felt like someone was pouring warm liquid down her belly, between her thighs. She was feeling swollen, hungry. She got up and went to the window, quivering as her legs rubbed together.

It was pitch black outside. Eva knew the train was moving, she could feel it rumbling and rattling, but there was no landscape visible through the glass. She pressed her sticky forehead to the window. The sounds of the woman behind her, giggling like a child, made Eva furious.

"Steven," she whispered. "Forget your wife. I demand that you pleasure me".

The hunger in her belly became unbearable, and Eva felt a surge of emotion rise up in her chest. Tears filled her eyes. The rumbling of the train passed through her and made her shiver. She got a waft then, of a heavy floral scent, and knew it belonged to the wife. Two hands started firmly rubbing her breasts from behind.

Eva's body felt weak, and she became dizzy from the sensation of the wife's hands, massaging her through the bodice. She jumped all of a sudden as cold metal met with her heated skin. Scissors were pressed at her chest. Black silk covered her eyes and was fastened at the back of her head. She was spun around. Eva felt unbalanced. She was sure they had begun to go faster.

Someone was slowly cutting the fabric of Eva's bodice, beginning at the edge of her left breast. The fabric was ripped, cut and ripped again. Eva felt her breasts bob free of the restraining gown. She blushed furiously, imagined the eyes that were watching her. Were there more people in the carriage? Yet her nipples were hard, and desire rose up through her body without mercy again.

"I have milk!" Eva cried out, though she didn't. "Will someone drink from me?"

She waited. Silence. The train seemed to lurch, and Eva felt herself falling. She braced herself for the impact. But there was none.

When Eva opened her eyes she was staring at a stranger. A gentleman that was fast asleep on the other side of the carriage. She instinctively put her hand to her breast. It was naked, still exposed. Embarrassed, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked around. Steven was sitting next to her. He smiled.

"Eva, they are beautiful. Don't cover them up."

He eased Eva's arms off her breasts and put both her hands into her lap. Eva looked nervously at the sleeping man across from them.

"He won't wake up." Steven reassured her. He traced a finger down her belly.

"Lie back."

"There's no room."

"Yes there is."

"Where is your wife?"

"She's gone. Lie back."

Eva did, slowly, waiting to hit her head on something. But she managed to lie flat on the seat. Steven lifted up her skirts and began massaging her thighs. He put a hand on each and pushed Eva's legs open. His head disappeared beneath the fabric. Eva shuddered in anticipation. Then it happened, his mouth, hot on her sex. Eva groaned- since when was she without underwear, she wondered- and pushed herself up, grinding her sex against Steven's face, her juices dripping. He drank them eagerly, licking Eva clean and then using his tongue to scoop out more wetness from inside her. He sucked on her clitoris, slowly and gently, then sped up, grabbing her ass cheeks and devouring her. Eva squirmed but Steven held her tight, her sex jammed against his mouth. She watched the stranger on the other side of the carriage, still asleep, as she came in a hot rush, her innermost depths clenching and releasing, expelling what felt like a flood of sex juice. She could feel her heart pounding, in her ears, in her sex. Eva closed her eyes. Steven emerged and sat her up.

"Open your mouth".

Eva did, though her eyes remained shut. She opened her mouth wide, craning her neck like a baby bird waiting to be fed, desperate to return the favour.

His rigid sex was placed on her tongue, and Eva began to play with it, teasing him. Soon however, she was sucking, pressing her lips firmly against his shaft as she enveloped him completely. When she came to reach the hilt, she stuck her tongue out as far as possible, snatching a lick of his balls, trying not to gag, but desperate to take as much in as she could. This man had finally eased her suffering, he had fed some of the hunger she felt was killing her. But he wasn't done yet, she knew, and she begged silently not to be woken. She wanted to stay on the train.

When he jerked and she felt his sex spasm in her mouth, a gush of hot liquid immediately following, Eva pulled him against her hard, a repeat of what Steven had done to her earlier. She drank his seed and tenderly massaged his sex with her lips and tongue. Finally, she slid it out of her mouth and kissed it softly. Steven cupped Eva's face and kissed her, saliva and sex juices coming together. The gentleman in the carriage snorted. Eva pulled back. She covered her breasts again. The man stirred and opened his eyes slightly but then fell asleep.

Steven was sitting next to her. She looked down at his lap, where his exposed sex was hard again, waiting. He motioned for her to come over. Eva slid onto his lap, her eyes never leaving the sleeping man. She half-wanted him to wake up, pull out his cock and pleasure himself with what he witnessed, or better yet, come over and force his own sex into Eva's mouth, while Steven fucked her. At least the latter would happen, Eva knew, because her skirts were being raised once more. A hand was spreading her cheeks, and as she was lowered down she was entered. She rose slightly, then came down again, fully enveloping her lover's cock within the folds of her own sex. They fucked slowly, the man sleeping nearby, the train continuing to rumble on its course to nowhere. As they picked up speed, so it seemed did the train. Eva, gripped by orgasm, cried out; while Steven clutched at her dancing breasts and pumped her like a man possessed, coming himself in a loud groan of pleasure.

The train hurtled through the blackness, and as it did Eva woke up, her body tingling. She sat up in bed.