I stripped down and started reading my favorite erotica and felt my nipples get hard, my juices started to flow. But I wasn't in the mood to finish qu...ckly tonight, I teased myself. Long slow stroke of my fingers, purposefully avoiding my clit, waiting until I was soaking wet to even insert one finger. But one wasn't enough, I needed more, needed to feel stretched. I jumped to three fingers, loving the way my outer lips strained just a little bit to accomidate the sudden change. I continued. “God, I love those sexy little noises you make.” I whimpered in response as he continued to stroke me. He leaned in to kiss me again, his thumb brushing my clit every so often and sending a new wave of lightning through me. Distantly I heard the sound of a zipper but I couldn’t think. I just wanted more. I knew something wonderful was just out of reach if I could only… Cameron’s hand vanished as he lifted me back to the countertop but before I could voice my protest he was back. Brushing up and. Sometimes I was on top, but she didn't mind riding me, either. Sometimes I snuck up behind her, started kissing her, and then took her bent over the desk, kitchen table or bed. I went down on her occasionally—maybe I should have done more—but she didn't seem to particularly care for that. And, on very rare occasions, she would treat me to her otherworldly blow-jobs, which I constantly craved.I had never been with another woman, nor she with another man. I loved every time we made love—or. The old station building could be barely seen outside the windows, masked by the stark reflections, a product of the still-bright interior lighting.It was late, the upstairs bar had long ago closed, and soon the downstairs cafe would close too. The majority of the train’s passengers had adjourned to their seats or rooms to sleep away the long night before tomorrow’s expected arrival in L.A. The long trip, now running more than three full days late, was on its last leg. Soon everyone should be.
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