"The Compartment"

Another very early story of mine. From seven years ago, 2001 in fact - that fateful year. This one has a goodly helping of improbability and perhaps innocense too. I like it because it has a glimpse into that very English 'place' - the preserved steam railway ..... as romantic in its way as is happy, consentual lovemaking.





It has a second intro. which was written at the time, feel free to skip that and get to the happy smut part. .................................





I suppose we all fantasise a bout the where and when of chance romantic encounters. The stuck elevator is one. Another, of mine anyway, is the railway train. But with the passage of time the "private" railway compartment has become a thing of the past. (I'm speaking of the railways of Britain here by the way) One of the reasons, 'tis said, was the real and imagined threat to lonely ladies from wicked predatory males. As a result the isolated passenger train compartment has pretty well gone the way of several flightless bird species.





But there is a glimmer of light ..... thanks to the English and their passion for preserving things ancient there are numerous 'preserved railways' dotted about the sceptred isle. On some of these a few of the older style coaches have been restored to their former glory. Rebuilt, repainted, re upholstered, revarnished they now roll sedately through England's green and pleasant land behind similarly rejuvenated steam locomotives. A sight to gladden the heart.........



All of which brings me to my story.....







"The Compartment"


by Julius


Copyright 2001









On a warm summer's day I was indulging in one of my favourite pastimes: wallowing in nostalgia on one of these railways. A beer, or was it two, and a chicken curry were safely stowed away. They had joined the warm glow of anticipation which makes a happy man a little happier. The railway seemed oddly quiet but the weather forecast of that morning had been of thunderstorms and grey skies. The public had listened, I was glad I hadn't. I was about to get gladder.


I climbed in and slammed the door and sank into the seat with a contented sigh. The compartment ran the full width of the coach with a door on each side to get in and out. This coach must have just come out of the 'shops'. The smartly-cushioned bench seats, with room for four people each side, were freshly upholstered. The smell of new varnish was still strong. I lowered the window on either side and sat down again to check the schedule on the leaflet I'd picked up.


The door opened and she got in. My momentary annoyance at having to share 'my' compartment was soon gone. I couldn't be annoyed for long with her company.


My thinking soon turned from third to second person singular! You are gorgeous. You said "Hello!" and I said "Hello' and with our hellos said, we sat silently for a while looking out of our respective windows on opposite sides of the compartment. But my eyes were drawn to you and I simply stared for a happy while. No doubt you knew about this but were kind enough to keep looking out and let me have my look.


A big girl by today's half starved standards, medium height, blonde and no dark roots showing. Your age is hard to guess, in fact the girl is really woman. Moment to moment you seemed to go from late thirties to mid forties and back. This, I hasten to add, is fine by me; you're still young either way in my eyes. It's hard to keep my gaze from your legs. You wear a cotton dress, pale yellow and rather short. You sat carelessly and the skirt has settled high up on your thighs. You've not noticed this but I have. Surprisingly for a summer day you wear panty hose or stockings. The thin cotton is tight over the swell of your breasts.


"You shouldn't stare" you said, turning to face me and you give me a wonderful smile. I mumble my apology. Acouple of smart responses occur to me but I don't want to prompt you to leave - you're far too nice to look at. I'd noticed you on the quiet platform apparently waiting for someone. It seems now that they didn't arrive.


While we wait for departure time we exchange a few sentences and then you tell me what had happened. Your partner was late and in the end you called him. The phone had been picked up by a woman. "The bastard!"you add with passion.


So, rather than lose the day, you decided to use your ticket anyway and had on impulse, decided to join the only other loner in sight. "You seemed to know something about all this." you tell me, making a gesture that takes in our surroundings.



I try to give a quick history of the railway and its preservation but my mind's not on the railway. I keep looking at your eyes and lips and trying no to let my gaze stray too often to your thighs. You're teasing me with that hiked up skirt and I know that you know that I'm hooked. Finally you get up and go to the window and look out, elbows resting on the ledge. "There's a man with a green flag, I think we must be going soon." You lean out to get a better look and I get a better look too. The skirt is short! Stockings, to my great surprise, in these modern times and on a sunny summer day! The backs of your knees and a wonderful glimpse of thigh. The thin cotton outlines your ass perfectly but no panty lines.

"Oh!" you exclaim, "another train, come and look."

I get and stand behind you, trying to look over your shoulder and out of the window. The smell of your hair, the pressure of your body as I lean against you. That wonderful stirring is happening. It turns to pain as my trapped penis erects. I move away a little and reach into my pants and ease my briefs to let him straighten out. Now I can get back to looking. Hissing and clanking the other locomotive passes with its train. You give a cry of girlish delight. You fidget a little in the excitement of the moment and your ass moves against me. I don't think you realise what you're doing but I do and suddenly I have an erection that's very hard. I want to press against you to let you know how you've affected me and I want to slip my hands under your arms and cup those heavy-looking breasts. But I manage some self-restraint, I don't want to spoil things.

I want ......... I want to get to know this sweet, fresh lady.

A whistle shrills, words are shouted, the locomotive gives its first puff and we jolt into motion.

You make no move to leave the window and I risk putting my hands on your waist and whisper, "It's a sort of magic I think."

You half turn your head and lean it back a little and I'm looking into your eyes, they're blue!Suddenly I'm very happy and you echo this by saying, "I'm glad I came."

The smell of the smoke, the engine's whistle at crossings, the warm air coming through the open windows, the motion of the coach. You laugh delightedly again, big perfect teeth. We sit down again, facing each other now. We relax in each other's company. Carefully passing details back and forth.

I discover that you'll not see forty again you but tell me you don't care about that. You've not seen your man in three weeks and now he's done this to you.

"This", you pluck at the skirt of your dress with finger and thumb, "and what's under, it were all intended to get him back today." Tears are there, mixed with your anger and I sit, wondering what to say.



The train draws into the next station. We don't notice, we're too interested in each other it seems. Your remark, -'and what's under it'- lurks in theback of my mind as I listen to you. A jerk and we're off again.

"I'm too angry at him to feel any loss," you say quietly, "but I have missed the physical side of the relationship; three weeks is a long time!"

My eyes go to yours and ask a question, you meet my gaze and nod "Yes, a girl has needs too!"



By now, your nearness and warmth, your charm and,above all, the ripe body under that dress have captured this poor male. I want you very badly and you've all but said you want me. All it needs now is some spark to tip us over that edge.



The brakes go on savagely and you're suddenly off the seat and flung into my arms. The train comes to a shuddering halt and you kiss me. I kiss you back. It's a clumsy kiss, teeth grate on teeth but tongues meet tongues, lips bruise lips and we're lost in our hunger. This is some first kiss!

There is a suddenly knocking from outside and a voice. You scramble off me looking sweetly guilty and go to the window. I hear a male voice explaining that there's a herd of cows, broken through the fence and wandering all over the tracks ..... "There'll be a slight delay" I get up and join you and we both peer out towards the front of the train and sure enough there are several cows on the track and people tryingto shoo them off. The guard moves along the train telling his news.

I realise I'm pressed deliciously against your ass but you make no move to avoid me. So I stand and enjoy thesweet sensation of pressing against your ass. Then you squirm gently and I hear you murmur "Ooh but that feels nice." My erection is back, of course and we can both feel its insistence between us.

To my amazement and delight you reach behind you and wriggle your skirt up your thighs, up over your ass and ask, "What you think?" I take half a pace back. A genuine gasp escapes me. you look utterly delightful. I see what you meant about 'what's under it'. Not stockings after all put a pair of crotchless pantyhose, the colour is what I think they call nude but with a hint of white to them and under that, a red thong, just a tiny scarlet arrow pointing down between the swells of your buttocks. "I think you're exquisite!" I tell you sincerely.

You lean far out of the window, up on tiptoe. Your thighs and buttocks tense and now I can see the thin line of red down that lovely cleavage and the beginning of the widening a the fabric stretches over the swell of your mound. My erection has become a raging focus now.


You look over your shoulder at me,"Press that thing against me again!" Almost without thought I unzip and struggle my cock out and move against you. Nestling it between your buttocks. I can't believe how good it feels. You tell me how hot my cock is. I tell you how good this feels. I'm leaking precum but this isn't enough and skin drags cruelly on skin.

You gesture towards your purse,"There's oil in there." Sure enough, a small bottle of massage oil. I unscrew the top and dribble some down into the top of your cleavage. Bliss! You like it too and squirm against me. I long to be inside you but the slick tight valley of your ass is perfect for the moment and I slowly plough your furrow and you writhe your ass against my groin.





The guard strolls back, glances up and smiles,"Shouldn't be long now!" You keep your giggles silent.

Deep between your buttocks I feel your thong with my penis and, drawing away from you for a moment I hook it with a forefinger and you give a soft cry as I draw it out and aside to lie across your buttock. Now I press against you again and we both moan our pleasure as I burrow in between your cheeks again. I reach round and cup your heavy breasts. Your nipples proudly tell of your arousal through your dress and bra.

You reach behind and your hand grabs my cock and cruelly bends it down, guiding me, urging me. In a moment I'm into you, you're scalding hot, wickedly tight. I thrust hard and deep, grinding against your ass. I hear your squealof delight. You match my lunging urgency with backward thrusts of you own and suddenly we're uncontrolled.

The train lurches into motion and we are almost thrown sideways, coupled, onto the seat. You put a hand on either side of the window to brace yourself and push back hard, I drop my hands from the softness of your breasts to your hips and begin slow deliberate thrusts into your clutching heat. My hands pulling, you to meet my thrusting hips. In moments your sobs announce your approaching climax, my movements speed as I strive towards mine. That wonderful pulsing glow begins deep inside me and then you're happening. Yourmuscles tense, for a moment you freeze then your voice and you body announce the flood of your orgasm. Now it's my turn and I thrust, withdraw, thrust, withdraw,thrust, withdraw ..... sobbing now.

Faces flash past, you struggle and yell, "God! Let me go! we're in the station!!"

We separate, you smooth your skirt down, I struggle my pants up. Struggling a weeping, fast drooping penis out of sight. We're like small children caught at something wicked. I'm in mental agony now at the cruel ending mere seconds from my ecstasy. But the realization suddenly blossoms that perhaps we now have the return journey to enjoy. You turn to look at me, your face is radiant and I know you'rethinking the same thing.

"Susan!" ..... a smiling male face at the window and something about a stupid sister turning up with her beastly kids.



The train leaves. I watch it go. My pants have a small wet patch. For a moment, only a moment, I wish I'd listened to that damned weatherforecast.