Midnight on the Oral Express

We were stopped at a railroad crossing the other day and as we waited for an Amtrak train to pass by, my husband nudged me with a wink and asked if I remembered “the night train.” I just gave him an “of course I do” smile then shushed him so our kids in the backseat wouldn’t start asking questions.

How could I forget? It wasn’t long after we were married, and we were traveling to visit my parents. We decided it would be romantic to take the train. We figured if we took the overnight train, we wouldn’t waste a whole day driving. We were able to book a roomette, which also allowed us access to the dining car.

We were surprised how small the compartment was. It had two seats opposite each other that folded into a narrow bed and a fold-down bunk above. We had brought things to read and a deck of cards to keep us occupied. But remember, we were young newlyweds, and soon our thoughts turned to other things. He began suggestively caressing my inner thigh. I rested my hand on his crotch and discovered he was already erect.

“What kind of girl do you take me for?” I asked coyly.

“The kind that might go for a quickie before dinner?” he said with an impish grin.

I tugged the curtain to the compartment closed and latched the door. “Well, you just might be right.”

Next, he maneuvered his hand inside my pants and stroked me through my panties. “Are we really doing this?” I whispered. We had never done anything intimate in public, and I was nervous that we might somehow get caught.

But his dexterous fingers were strumming away my inhibitions. I could feel the moist heat emanating from between my legs and opened them wider for his better access. When his fingers slipped beneath the elastic of my panties and delicately traversed my mons pubis, I gasped.

As the landscape outside whizzed past the train window in a repetitive rhythm, pulsing colors in flashes created a surreal strobe effect that amplified the mind-numbing arousal gradually overtaking my senses. He effortlessly slid his fingers between my labia and gently teased my turgid clitoris. I was short of breath, and my heart was beating in my ears.

I leaned over to kiss him, to feel his tongue in my mouth. He would often simulate the movements of his fingers with his tongue against mine when we kissed as he digitally stimulated me. I melted with desire as the synchronous motions of his tongue and fingers drew forth my warm, slippery moistness.

I felt flush and was beginning to perspire. It took every ounce of restraint for me to refrain from moaning out loud with pleasure. What would our neighboring passengers think if they heard my ecstatic exclamations?

Although I was lost in the throes of my own deep passion from his rhythmic caress, I had not forgotten the aroused state he was in. I had been firmly gripping his engorged penis through the strained fabric of his pants but suddenly had an overwhelming urge to feel its rigid fullness in my hand. I deftly slid his zipper over his prominent bulge and maneuvered my fingers inside to part the fly of his boxers.

His member was iron hot and throbbed in response to my eager grasp. I rubbed my thumb across his glans to collect the dollop of viscous pre-seminal fluid glistening on the tip. Unable to resist the subtle, salty delicacy he had produced for me, I quickly inserted my thumb in my mouth to get a taste of him. That savory little drop on my tongue merely whetted my appetite for more. In that instant I knew I wanted—no, I needed to perform fellatio on him.

Meanwhile, my whole body was tingling as his slippery fingers continued their delicate dance between my thighs with intensifying crescendo as the train droned onward. I was rapidly approaching the point of no return. But I paused his hand with mine.

“Not yet,” I said huskily.

He withdrew his hand, raised it to his lips, and licked my wetness from his fingertips with a sultry smile. Then I slid down to the floor on my knees in front of him. His erection protruded eagerly from his fly before my face. I considered pulling his pants down to his ankles so I could have full access to all his tasty man-parts but I could not wait even a second longer to take him into my mouth. I engulfed his penis in one fell swoop. He gasped.

I wondered where such a powerful oral impulse had come from. Why was I so compelled to go down on him? Was he wondering what kind of depraved, wanton woman he had married? I dared to glance up at him, my mouth still full of his manhood, to gauge the expression on his face. Rather than looking appalled, he beamed with a look of unadulterated adoration.

At that point in our marriage, I was not as confident with my fellatio skills as I am now, but I was emboldened by his apparent approval and the more obvious physiological arousal between my lips. I made wild and passionate love to him with my mouth. My head bobbed up and down in his lap, my tongue swirling around his satin-smooth glans on the upstroke. The tip touched the back of my upper palate on the downstroke. My lips glided easily up and down the saliva-covered shaft.

Now I slipped my own fingers into my moist panties where his had recently been. I felt a surge of intense pleasure as I touched myself. Slowing the pace of my frenetic blowjob, I caressed myself in small circular motions that I imitated with my tongue on the sensitive underside of his shaft just below his glans.

My husband’s knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the seat. His body was stiff in anticipation, his back arched and his head tossed back as he tried to hold back the impending geyser from erupting in my mouth too soon.

I continued gently suckling his sex, desperate to taste the wholesome reward of my efforts but at the same time lingering longingly over the voluptuous sensation rapidly culminating in my own sex.

The lulling vibration of the train, the heady smell of sweat and sex permeating the compartment, the fullness of his pulsing penis in my mouth, the exquisite pressure of my fingers on my clit, all combined in a cacophony of my senses and plunged me into a profound orgasmic abyss. I gyrated my throbbing sex against my hand as my climax came in wave after wave, and I sucked him so intensely he was helpless but to explode in a powerful, pulsating orgasm, spewing jets of warm semen into my mouth. I swallowed in one gulp and then held him delicately in my mouth as the euphoric stupor clouding my brain gradually cleared.

“Wow!” he finally exclaimed. “That was amazing. You came too?”

“Mmm-hmm,” I replied, my lips still wrapped around the base of his softening shaft. It was the first time I had ever had an orgasm while performing fellatio, but it wouldn’t be the last.

After my racing heart gradually returned to normal, I let his spent, flaccid member slip out of my mouth and tucked it gently back into his fly. Then I stood up, straightening my disheveled clothes, and said, “Now that I’ve had my appetizer, how about we go have some dinner?”

We wined and dined in the dining car. The train was not fully booked, so they didn’t mind that we stayed at our table until late. When we finally got back to our roomette, I told him I was going to try the shower in the lower deck. He asked if he could join me. I told him yes if he could behave himself. As it turned out, the shower compartments were so small we ended up showering separately.

When we returned to our compartment, the car attendant had our bunks already set up. We decided to try to sleep together on the bottom bed even though it was very narrow. We were young and in love. And need I mention, horny?

His erection was soon pressing into me, urgently seeking attention as we spooned together. His hand quickly found its way under my nightgown to fondle my breasts. The effects of the wine, the soothing monotonous swaying of the train, and his seductive caress rendered me helpless to his advances.

As I slipped my panties off, he shucked his pajama pants. He kissed me on my neck and whispered in my ear, “Now I want to taste you.”

I just sighed as he re-positioned his head between my legs. As I have mentioned before, he was (and still is) a remarkably skilled oral lover himself. His masterful tongue slipped between my labia. He parted my vulva delicately as he sought the taste of my trembling succulent fruit. I was overwhelmed with the sensations of his lips and tongue seeking and finding the treasure hidden within the moist petals of my sex.

My desire rapidly escalated with his deliberate, exploratory probing and prodding. In my heightened state of arousal, I felt the urge to suck him again as I remembered the intensity of my earlier climax while going down on him. I suggested we try 69.

Without hesitation, he re-positioned himself in the cramped bunk until his erection was pointing toward my face, and his face was buried between my legs again. I took him into my mouth, ravenous with desire.

I have always found it curious how different his penis feels depending on which angle I am sucking it. In our current inverted position, I could feel the prominent corona of the head against my tongue. His glans flared as I moved my tongue in synchronicity with his tongue against my clitoris.

Although we have never been able to have simultaneous orgasms while orally pleasing each other, the titillating sensations of mutual oral-genital contact were exquisite nonetheless. Eventually one of us would always succumb to the intensity of the other’s oral seduction before the other. But sometimes that was part of the game. Who could make the other come first?

Since we had both had powerful orgasms earlier, we were able to edge each other closer and closer to the brink for longer than usual. But when I sensed he would soon be unable to hold back any longer, I turned up the intensity and shifted my focus on giving him the most gratifying release possible.

Suddenly, he thrust his hips forward as his ejaculate shot through his throbbing shaft and spewed in several powerful bursts into the back of my throat. There was less volume than previously that evening but no less intensity. He paused only briefly as he ejaculated but went immediately back to work on my sex with his eager tongue.

I held his now overly sensitive penis tenderly in my mouth and let myself be swept away by the pleasure he was eliciting from deep within me. And, then before long, like a sudden thunderstorm in the summer, a flash of lightening, a crash of thunder and a warm drenching rain, my orgasm coursed through my body.

We remained still for a while basking in the afterglow with the aftertaste of sex still lingering. We noticed it was already past midnight, so we snuggled closely together and dozed off as the train rumbled on.

A car horn roused me from my reverie. “Mom, the train’s gone!” I blushed and glanced over at my husband. Did I perceive a bulge in his crotch? There was certainly a moist tingle in mine. As we crossed the railroad track, I already knew what we’d do as soon as we got home.