TV Train Ride

B'Ellana Marie Duquesne

 

Tina dear,

I'm sorry I stopped my last story so abruptly. I think I stopped right after wiping your "love juices" from my chin. The stopping point was mostly strategic (from a writer's standpoint) because I wasn't sure where to go next with the story. If the purpose is to turn you on, and perhaps even provide "stroking" material for you, (BTW the thought of you completely "enjoying" my stories makes me feel very excited!) I simply needed to know more about what you like.

For example, I still don't know whether you'd enjoy reciprocating my oral attentions, so I left those potentially steamy and delicious parts of the story untold. For the record, I think T-girl 69 is the most exquisite form of masturbation possible. It's a wonderful combination of delivering the exact type of oral attention each girl could want and a simultaneous exchange of control as each girl shows the other exactly what she wants and where she wants it. I often conclude these types of scenes with a long struggle to see which partner can delay orgasm for the longest time while each remains pointed to be "close" enough to deliver a warm wet payload in exchange for a face full of cum. I'm somewhat partial to receiving "facials", although the realities of this practice are believed to be less safe than the fantasies.

With that said, the next part of the story would be to say,… "Are you ready to leave for our nation's Capitol? If we leave right now we can be in DC in less than two hours". With that said, we left for a ten-minute cab ride to Penn Station in Philly.

I'd been out en femme' in public far too many times to count but almost always in situation where the people I'd need to deal with were "T-friendly". It's one thing to talk to a waiter or bartender at a T-Girl hangout, and quite simply another to be greeted with that "heythatsafuckndude" stare in a train station. I even feel comfortable with Cab-drivers, hotel bellmen, or drive though attendants, but I was never one of those girls that felt that they could "Pass" anywhere (despite so many comments that I could). I was never able to work up the nerve to book a beauty appointment (although I have since met a T-friendly stylist), shop in a major department store or boutique, or visit a shopping mall for her "Glamour shot" appointment. The fear of bumping into a group of teenage girls or boys full of noisy mischief had always kept me from fully enjoying all of my secret feminine "simple desires".

So the thought of spending time in a major train station and a subsequent hour and a half train ride filled me with nervous energy. Moreover, I was thrilled with meeting you and leading you down to D.C. fulfilling one of my own personal fantasies of taking a train ride with a girlfriend. We hailed our cab and told the driver to take us to Penn Station.

You looked perfect. I'd mentioned how much I liked your "Betty Page" image and you were perfectly willing to play the part with your dark hair with Betty-bangs and the hot looking black leather skirt and jacket. The skirt was long and had a slit that came up to mid thigh length. The Black fishnet (fishnets require such a delicate sense of taste that must be used carefully to avoid moving from ultra sexy to tragically comic) stockings came up just high enough to reveal a little stocking top and garter strap, but only when you were seated. When you stood, the delightful silhouette simply reflected the smooth black leather outfit with just a glimpse of fishnet leg rising from the ankle cut 3" heel stiletto boots.

I tried a similar look wearing a long skirt, but with two slits in front instead of one and very similar boots myself. I had saved my best pair of black Cuban heeled seemed stockings for the occasion and wore a waist-length black Bolero cut jacket over a black bustier on top. I was so proud to be with you the station. I had so many times pondered the delicate balance between looking like a very sexy alluring mysterious woman and a poor characature of some badly dressed hooker, Drag queen or (worse!) both.

Even more worrisome to me was the "readability exponent". (The Algebraic formula that proposes that a T-Girl's chances of being "read" was directly proportionate to the number T-girls in the group she's in – or Readability = x "N" with "n" representing the number of Trans-girls) On this night though, our complementing styles with a perfect balance of stylistic expression and overt sexuality, and yes, your total femininity, made us not only perfectly "passable" traveling companions, but also the objects of some subtle but noticeable attention.

It was clear that you were following my lead as hostess for your East Coast visit. We bought our ticket from an electronic machine just to avoid issues with credit cards and identification. Boarding the train filled me with fun as I walked with you along the station. It was all so strangely reminiscent of Jack Lemon and Tony Curtis, following Marilyn Monroe in "Some Like It Hot". I was "showing off" a little, I think. My femme voice isn't the best, but I was full of confidence after seeing the reaction of onlookers so far.

The noise of the station also helped allay any insecurity about my voice so I went on and on about finding the seats in the car directly behind the Club car where we could move for a drink, a snack, and a booth with a table. That car on the train is also my favorite because the first row of seats faces the opposite direction of the others so that the riders in the first two seats actually face each other. (Instead of the standard Airline-style seating arrangement) That car is also sure to be equipped with phone and business services (not that we'd need any that night) and I wanted to impress you with my familiarity with AMTRAK train service.

I went on rambling, mostly for the benefit for the passing eavesdroppers who were clearly curious about the two dramatic looking women taking the southbound train. We found our seats and then we both involuntarily squealed with delight when the train started moving. The steady chug-chug of the train wheels set the rhythm for the evening. We'd found the front rows of seats that faced each other and sat diagonally occupying two of the four seats framing the train car's window. I sat on the outside facing you on the inside seat.

Both of us crossed our legs in front of us. This simple little movement accomplished everything I'd imagined about train travel en femme. First, the leg crossing discouraged any unwelcome passenger from sitting next to us. The train on a Saturday night was not particularly crowded, and it indeed had very few passengers. There was a very large selection of seats and sitting in one of the empty seats next to either of us would have been a clear intrusion. Second, our slit skirts and fashion statement nylons made for a gorgeous site, not only for passersby but I was thoroughly immersed in the visual experience of those two hot sets of legs dangling under the train window. The window's nighttime reflection emphasized the sheer sexual energy of those two sets of legs and their owners. Mostly though, I enjoyed the wonderful feeling when I crossed my outer leg over the leg next to the window and you crossed your inner leg over the one nearest me. The movement of the train and the strategically placed legs started a bouncing and swaying that caused our dangling legs to brush against each other. The effect was a sort of leg massage that moved up and down from ankle to mid calf. The contact looked casual enough to any one looking, but you seemed to catch on to the experience and soon we were both, oh so subtly increasing the pressure as our ankles and calves danced into their little nylon train ride massage.

With an hour and a half to talk we soon found ourselves in a delightful rhythm of talking, laughing (maybe even giggling?) and touching. You were the perfect companion. I try so hard to maintain a small measure of dignity and elegance while still making an effort to express my sexual energy. You were such a perfect compliment. We exchanged subtle touches. Occasionally one of us would innocently place a hand on a knee, or arm. Once when a young passenger was making his way to the club car, I pretended to wipe something with a napkin from the top you were wearing. I was sure I saw the bulge in his pants grow when I took a napkin, wrapped it around my finger and started wiping a imaginary stain, tracing little circles with my fingertip from the place your nipples would be. I thought he would break his neck (or his penis) trying to look down your cleavage when you leaned forward so I could "get that spot for sure". I actually had a breast cupped with my left hand around the fabric of your top while the right hand worked its magic with the napkin. You let out a positively wicked laugh after he moved on to the next car, when I leaned over and said "did you see the bulge in his pants move?"

We rode as the train moved on, making comments about the passengers as they made their way to and from the club car. I had thoughts about how we could have even more dramatic leg contact under tables in the club car booths, but we were having so much fun in our seats that I forgot all about moving up to the club car. As the movement of the passengers settled into its early pattern, we noticed that one female passenger decided to sit in the set of seats on the opposite side of the train car next to ours. I thought nothing of it because of the desirable nature of the facing rows. She had the look of a tired but expert traveler that knows how strategically reclining a train seat along with diagonal foot placement on the seat in front, makes for pretty comfortable sleeping (at least compared to anything on a plane).

Upon further inspection though, it was clear that this lady had some interest in the two of us and that she had certain gender statements she wanted to make as well. Her look was totally androgynous, but there were clearly concessions (or impressions?) to be made to her female side. Her haircut, makeup (yes she wore a very "heroin chic" look about her eyes and lips) tattoos, and multiple piercings (ears, tongue, navel) reminded me so much of the actresses and characters from the lesbian oriented "L Word" TV series. I was even starting to have doubts about whether she was a genetic girl (could we have met another "sister" that likes to ride the train?), but my "Gay-dar" led me to believe that our new admirer was a genetic lesbian.

She was definitely looking at both of us and made no attempt to hide her interest. She was wearing denim cargo pants and a white midriff top that exposed her navel piercing. She had her right leg propped up against the heating element under the window with her elbow on her knee so her forearm and fist could hold up her chin. She sat with her legs apart with her other hand casually placed on her crotch. Her pose reminded me of so many rap singers (singers? Maybe the oxymoron of the 21^st century) or ball players that seem to be constantly holding on to their precious "packages".

All three of us exchanged smiles and looks. You were particularly naughty taking the time to make sure she was looking at us when you nonchalantly traced small patterns on my knee with a long, perfectly manicured fingernail. I was starting to worry about being read again, but I realized that even if she "knew" (and by now I was sure she did) that she was still very intrigued by the both of us. She still had her head propped on her fist but I noticed that the other hand, the one on her crotch was moving oh so very slightly. When I looked up at her eyes she simply gave me a look and a smile letting me know that she knew I was watching her hand.

I soon let you know that our travelling companion had found a particularly comfortable way to travel. We both watched intently as she closed her eyes as if she'd fallen asleep. At first, we couldn't be sure if she was truly sleeping or feigning her slumber, but soon her middle finger started a slow in and out motion as the rest of her hand laid gently across her crotch. Anyone who wasn't looking as carefully as we were wouldn't have noticed a thing, but the steady in and out movement of her middle finger and the steadily increasing breathing (not audible but easily seen from the rise and fall of her bra-less breasts under her thin cotton top) let us know, that if she was truly asleep, she was having one hell of a dream.

She opened her eyes momentarily and started getting up. She asked if we knew where the ladies room was and I motioned to the other end of the car. As she got up to go, I let her know how to place her "punched" ticket in the slot below the luggage rack so that the conductor and other passengers would hold her seat. After she got up, I whispered to you to follow me, and the three of us (with we two a respectful distance behind) made our way to the other end of the train car.

The train's restrooms are single occupancy unisex affairs with no room for mischief. (Besides, a restroom just doesn't make it as a desirable place for hanky panky) AMTRAK trains place their business service centers directly across from the restrooms. Phones, fax machines, work stations with little counters for work and full size windows let us watch the world go by in relative privacy. The entrance door had a window so that onlookers can identify the business center but staying in a far corner could keep eyes from seeing anything going on in that spot unless someone opened the unlockable door.

I motioned you inside and we stood very close facing each other. We were at definite kissing distance and I had not felt your soft smooth lips and face since we left the hotel. I don't know how intentional the timing was, but we seemed to brush or lips together just as our friend was leaving the restroom. First there was a soft gentle kiss and then a series of light "air kisses" punctuated by tiny flicks of the tongue. I noticed you giving a quick wink to our friend as you traced the outline of my lips with your tongue. She cooperated by oh so subtly leaning against the window so that other passengers would miss the "show" she was watching.

Feeling emboldened by our new security, I began to tease your tongue out of you mouth so I could start giving you a "tongue blow job". That is, I began to suck and caress your extended tongue searching for the sensation that would stir your passions. Somewhere during this exhilaration the door opened. I'm not sure which one of us opened the compartment door, but the next thing I heard was a sultry voice telling us that " I thought I could take the edge off in the ladies room, but you two have got me hot and horny as hell, all over again".

She leaned against the door's window, but I knew that there were no locks anywhere. This didn't stop our new friend from reaching behind us both and placing her hand on both our rear ends as we continued our now very passionate kisses. She took a free hand from both of us and placed one on each of her breasts. The soft flesh surrounding the firm nipples that seemed unusually large somehow seemed to stir even more passion from you as you inhaled my tongue deep into your mouth and began an incredibly arousing fluttering movement at the very tip of our tongues.

I noticed her hand reaching into the slit in your skirt and was somewhat jealous, as I too, wanted her slim fingers between my thighs. You satisfied this need by placing your hand in one of the slits on my skirt and gently stroking my thigh just above my socking tops. I reached under your skirt to reciprocate and found our mystery woman's hand already reaching into your panties trying to find your T-girl treasure.

Our friend only had one other hand free and she was using it to open the button and fly of her pants. When she had fully opened the access to her passion spot, she leaned against the two of us and found just enough space between out lips and tongues, to add her own mouth to the oral party. You had lifted one of your legs and placed your booted foot it on the work counter in front of you (and behind me) so that we could find more room under your skirt. For a moment you two seem to find a moment of perfect stimulation. The look on the faces of the two beautiful women in front of me mouths open, tongues extended, hips grinding against the hands groping and massaging was about to drive me insane with lust.

I took my hand from under your skirt and I lifted our mystery woman's shirt exposing a wonderfully perfect little breast about the size of a medium size orange with a nipple that was easily a full1/2 inch long and maybe just as thick around. I would have taken the time to marvel at such a beautiful sight but I was far too busy trying to coat that lovely nipple with my blood-red lipstick. (I do so love the look of a nipple or penis covered in lipstick)

She was a dark girl but her breasts had been protected from the sun by her bra/bikini and was a lovely sight of red, white and dark tan looking like some exotic creamy desert prepared by some mythical creature (nymphs maybe?) charged with creating sweet treasures for the gods. It didn't take you long to unveil the other breast and she let out a loud gasp and rubbed her hand on her crotch even faster when you finally took the other swollen nipple into your mouth

The rocking of the train made it difficult for the three of us to maintain our balance during all of this and I for one, was getting very weak-kneed. It was a sudden shift in the train's movement that caused me to lose my balance and fall back seated onto the counter next to your foot. Our new friend, though, used this as an opportunity to shift her own position so that her naked breasts were in my lap and her rear was pointing directly between your still spread legs.

With one foot and fishnet clad leg on the counter and the other supporting you from the ground, I would have been content to stroke myself just to show you how much I thought of your lovely femme presentation. I noticed your panties on the floor and wondered how I didn't notice them coming off. The sight of you lifting your skirt and revealing you now very stiff T-clit would have been all that I would have needed for inspiration, but I was further aroused when you started to pull down her pants and her white cotton thong panties. The bikini line from her bottom seemed to form a little arrow pointing straight to your beautiful member.

The site of your cock disappearing into that beautifully shaped ass might have been a delicious enough experience, but my own panties were now around my ankles and my own boy-clit was surrounded by red white and tan breast flesh. When she surrounded my now aching cock with her warm moist lips, my head jerked back against the train's window forced by either passion or the train's rocking movement. I didn't know nor did I care who might see through the business car door's window. We had reached a perfect moment. My passion had reached a point where I was completely absorbed with enjoying every little detail.

The sound of the train and the rocking motion, the sight of you, legs spread in your Betty Page loveliness, and the incredibly hot young creature rocking back and forth all created a sensation of ecstasy and wonderment. I found myself visually taking in the entire experience asking myself "how did I get so lucky as to find myself part of what might be the hottest sex I could imagine". Indeed, I doubt that I could have imagined it at all.

I gathered my wits long enough to peek at the compartment door window. I was clearly visible from the door but It seemed like you and our friend's (got to get her name later I thought) rear were not visible from the door. I gained just enough composure to lift one side of my skirt to cover as much of the visual evidence as I could. I laughed to myself about how I was thinking that the sight of a lesbian getting a little head in the business car might be preferable to a T-girl getting a blowjob.

I would have said something about moving, but the look in your eyes and the moaning from my lap told me this was not the time for changing positions. (I guess I'll take a moment to once again comment that the sound of a woman moaning while her mouth is stuffed is one of life's true pleasures)

The moaning created a wonderful vibrating sensation and she moaned louder and longer each time that you gave her a stroke with your love muscle. I myself started my own moaning and murmuring. I even started coaching you. Telling you "stick your thumb in her ass baby. Pull out your boy pussy so I can see it go in and out". I was in complete and total ecstasy, when she stopped sucking me long enough to rub those sweet little breasts back over my stiff hot wet dick.

She was gasping for air as she told us "I'm gonna come, baby. Keep fucking me hard baby" she said to you, as she looked into my eyes before her own eyes seemed to roll straight back into her head. That's it,.., Oh yeah, keep fucking me nice and hard." You responded to the encouragement with faster stronger strokes and I could see your dick get shiny from the moisture of her passion hole.

I was sure that now was the time to spend my ever-growing load of cum. I was oh, so close and I was sure you were getting ready to come at any moment. Indeed, there were three women all ready to scream with orgasm. I kept hearing voices swirl around in my head but I truly couldn't tell who was saying what.

"Oh yeah, OK baby, that's it,…, Oh yeah,…, Of fuck me good honey, Keep fucking me good,.. That's it now,…,Yeah, it's gonna come soon, it's gonna come now,…, now baby,… that's it, Oh god yeah,…., Yes,…Yes,… Yessss!!!" She took my cock deep into her mouth I suspect just to keep her from telling the entire train about her impending orgasm. It was at this point that I relaxed, arched my back with my head on the train window, and simply enjoyed the wonderful sensations being delivered to my boy pussy and the lovely sight of you fucking her and by extension me.

I think it was me that came first, certainly either me or her but not you. You were still stroking away and by the hissing sound you were making each time you inhaled a deep breath before each time you pumped you flesh into warm pussy I knew you were close behind. Our friend had stopped her muffled screaming but continued with extended moaning as I finally let go of my love load. She sucked and swallowed each little payload as I spasmed with each ejaculation. "Hmmm,… mmmm,… mmmm,… mmmm" she breathed as she jerked and shivered with her own body shaking orgasm.

I knew I only had a few moments to act and as soon as my last drop of love juice found its way to her waiting throat. I managed to lift her head from my lap and dropped to my knees beneath her so that she was bent over me with her hot, moist cunt directly in front of my face. I was astonished to find an enormous clit stiffly, pointing out from her pussy lips above your now bright red cock. Her girl-cock must have been a full two inches long and was as thick as her breast nipples. I immediately began to lick where your cock was delivering friction to the base of the clit and extended my tongue so that I could give your balls a loving lick each time you stroked into her hot steamy cunt.

I managed to lay my tongue just under the base of your rod and you deftly stroked it so the entire underside rubbed against my tongue while the tips of my tongue and your cock remained in contact with her clit at each now furious thrust. I felt a severe shaking and quivering and knew that her clit had now engaged in its wonderful purpose. The motion of the train seemed to encourage her shaking and I could tell that she was counting on the two of us to keep her from collapsing. I managed to get her entire clit into my mouth, as she let out one final exhausted cry of "Oh god dammit,…. I'm still,… comiiiiing,…!

I was still waiting for your orgasm, and hoping I wouldn't be crushed under the weight of both of your collapsing bodies, when she slipped off of your rod and knelt down with me. I circled my thumb and forefinger around the base of you dick and pulled its skin back tightly. We both licked and sucked the shiny stiff, rock-hard cock. I still held the base of your rod with my hand and the two of us worked each side of your lovely cock with our lips and tongues. We both started taking turns taking the head into our mouths and swirling our tongues around the head as we exchanged the position of our mouths. It was then that you finally gave us our hot salty love treat. I made sure some of the slippery cum coated my lips as we both lapped up your creamy treasure in between passionate cum-soaked kisses. The two of us looked up at you with smiles that looked like a surreal lip gloss magazine ad.

We freshened up in the ladies room and then we all went back to our seats. Our new friend was named Wendy. We were amazed and shocked when we found out that Wendy was also known as Wally and that she was a professional "Drag King". She was on her way from New York to D.C. for a show date at Club Chaos in D.C. We were telling her that we were headed to The Crucible and inviting her along when we pulled into Union Station. "WAH -SHING-TON!" the conductor said.

To be continued,…………………….

  

  

  

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