1 comments/ 34218 views/ 0 favorites Sex On The Go! By: redpan It all happened last weekend. In the area where we live in the UK there is an old steam railway which runs as a tourist event every Saturday and Sunday. Sally and I decided to go along for a ride. It turned out to be a different ride than we expected. As it was a Sunday Sally dressed up in her Sunday best: White blouse, navy blue jacket and a navy blue three quarter length skirt. Sally always wears stockings when she wears skirts, partly to please me and mainly because she always complains that pantyhose brings her out in a rash! She made a point of keeping her other items of underwear a secret! It was a typical November day, cold and clear. We left the house and got into the car. I drove, which was not the usual state of affairs as it was Sally’s car. After a few miles we were nearing the train station when we suddenly came up against a row of stationary vehicles. It appeared that there was a traffic hold up. We were behind a car, which had a young couple in it, both in their early 20’s. The girl who was driving looked at us through the rear view mirror. With a smile, she shifted her arm over to the lap of her boyfriend. He put his head back with a start, but then seemed to lift his hips. Still looking at us through the mirror she slowly moved her arm up and down. She was jerking off her boyfriend! Without taking my eyes from the girl, I slowly reached across and placed my hand under Sally’s skirt and on Sally’s nylon covered knee. Taking the hint, Sally reached across with her right hand and carefully pulled down my zip. My stiff cock was freed from my shorts and Sally began to slide her fingers up and down my cock. At the same time, I slid my hand up Sally’s leg, my wrist pulling her skirt up. My fingers reached the stocking top and then arrived at the silk barrier to her cunt. I could already feel the wet patch there. Sally lifted her hips and I slid my two fingers under the material and up between the wet lips. There we were, all four of us in the middle of a traffic jam all wanking each other off, and nobody else was the wiser! My fingers slipped easily in and out of Sally’s pussy lips. I could smell the pungent juices in the close confines of the car. Sally started to rock her hips in time to the thrust of my fingers. Her own hand increased its pace up and down my cock. I began to feel the pressure build in my balls. Suddenly the young girl in front lowered her head and leaned towards her boyfriend’s lap. She was going to suck him off!! His head started to sway from side to side. Sally at my side took her hand from my cock. I turned my head in disappointment, but quickly smiled when I saw her playing with her swollen clit just above my fingers. She gave a spasmodic jerk and then two or three more…. She was cumming. I continued to give my cock some attention sliding my hand up and down from base to tip. I lifted my hips and placed the middle finger of my free hand up my ass hole. Lifting her bottom off the seat, Sally took off her red silk panties. She then proceeded to wrap the smooth material around my cock and continued the up and down movement. There was no way I could last under this punishment. My balls tightened and I spurted into the panties. The white cum mixed with the already damp patch. Sally complained that they were now too sticky and lifted the material to my lips. I licked the cum and juices off. The taste was divine!! With the panties cleaned with my saliva, Sally pulled them back up over her nylon clad legs and smoothed down her skirt. We both sat there red faced with the effort. Looking back to the car in front I noticed they were back into normal position. My eyes met those of the girl in front. With a wink she opened her mouth to show me the white cum of her boyfriend sticking to her tongue. After 10 minutes we set off again. It’s funny but when I looked in the rear view mirror I noticed an old couple staring back, their faces extremely red!! At midday we drove into the car park of the W**** V***** railway station. The car park was half empty and just above the grey tiled building of the ticket office we could see a great cloud of steam. Just in time!! We made our way to the ticket office and bought a return ticket to K*******. The train was due to set off in 5 minutes so we walked down the platform looking in the windows to find a suitable seat. The carriages were of the old variety, and instead of having a corridor connecting each compartment as on modern trains, all the compartments were only accessible from the outside. We chose an empty one and crossed our fingers that no one else would come in. After a few minutes the whistle blew, and slowly we pulled out of the station. We would reach K******* in 20 minutes. I had always wanted to fuck in a train, rocking to the motion of the wagon. Sally therefore was not too surprised when I turned and knelt in front of her. With both hands I pushed up her skirt, grabbed hold of her soggy panties and pulled them down her legs. Caressing her nylon covered legs I started to lick her clit and then stuck my tongue in and out of her cunt. Sally pushed her hips forward to gain a little more tongue length. I could hear her begin to moan, and as I took a quick look up, I could see her tweaking her nipples through the white material of her blouse. She pleaded me to fuck her from behind. I got to my feet. Sally stood and walked to the window. There was a small table there and Sally leaned forwards over it. I love the sight of Sally’s opulent ass!! She straddled her legs, pulled up her skirt and waited for me to enter her. Keeping my balance because of the movement of the train I dropped my pants and shorts, gave a quick lick of her delicious buttocks, leaned over her back and rammed my cock into the gaping opening in front of me Sue gave a shudder as I continued to thrust in and out in time to the rocking motion of the train. “Come on fuck me, fuck me harder you stiff bastard, I want to feel your cock split me in half.” The torrent of abuse was a real turn on, and grabbing hold of her shoulders I rammed into her with all my might. Sally’s moans turned to shouts. Christ I thought it’s a good job this train is old and not the quieter ones we have today. I could hold on no longer. With a final thrust I emptied my load into Sally’s waiting cunt She pushed her buttocks back into my thighs, her cunt lapping up every drop of my juices. Finally exhausted we sat back onto opposite seats. Sally spread her legs and I could see the white cum sliding down her thighs, onto her stockings and onto the seat. She rubbed the cum into her stockings and promised me I could taste it later The train whistle blew and we slowed down in order to enter K******* Station. Sally tidied herself up, re applied makeup and stuffed her by now ragged panties into my jacket pocket. I had just enough time to fasten myself up when we entered the station. With a smile of smug satisfaction on our faces, we stepped off the train and onto the platform. We made our way to a local café. A drink was certainly needed and besides, said Sally, we’ve got the return journey to do yet! Sex on the High Seas The tanker "Chelsea Bridge" was steaming westwards across the Atlantic, bound for Bayonne, New Jersey, with a cargo of domestic heating oil from North Africa. James Tully, the third engineer, had finished standing his watch in the engine room at midnight, and was dying for a drink. He showered, put on a little pair of blue shorts and a pair of flip-flops, and went up to the Officer's Lounge only to find that it was shut up for night. Undaunted, James went up to the bar and pushed up one of the security panels. The wooden panels comedown when the barman closed the bar, and could be locked shut, however the centre panel could not be locked. All James had to do was to push the heavy panel up, stand on the bar rail, then squeeze between the bar top and the panel, in order to gain entry to the bar area. On this occasion, however, the panel jammed when it had only moved up about 10". This meant that Jim had to bend over the bar top and squeeze himself through the small gap. He managed to get his head and shoulders through the gap only to find that he was well and truly jammed. He could not get his shoulders back out, nor could he force the panel up to allow his bottom to get through the gap. He was completely trapped, bent over, his top half in the bar, his bottom half outside. He started calling for help, but everyone else had gone to bed. Suddenly, he heard someone enter the lounge and asked the person to help get him free, but the footsteps went away. After about 5 minutes the footsteps of about 4 or 5 people were heard returning, and approaching him; nobody said a word, despite his pleas for help. Suddenly, his little blue shorts were pulled down and hands explored his ass and cock. He was truly frightened now, not sure if this was a joke or not. A cold waxy fluid was rubbed into his ass, paying special attention to lubing his sphincter. The constant attention that his cock was getting was causing it to get erect, which added to his shame and dismay. Then the cheeks of his ass were parted by a large cock, which then pushed slowly but surely through his rosebud into his cherry asshole. What could he do, there was no point in shouting to his assailants and pissing them off, all he could do was stand there, bent over, while the unseen man held on to his waist and slowly pushed his cock into the captive ass. Jim felt the guy's pubic hair touch his cheeks as the cock impaled the unfortunate engineer up to the hilt. Then the fucking started, the cock being withdrawn, then slammed back into the reluctant asshole. The man picked up a rhythm, and his victim had time to consider his situation; he felt his bottom being stretched, but not actually painfully so. He then began to like the feeling as the rampant prick slid forward into him. Without thinking he started pushing back against the thrusts, his engorged cock getting more excited as the shagging went on. After about 10 minutes of fucking, the cock sped up as it's owner got near to spewing his jizz into the bowels of the trapped victim. When he actually came Jim was a bit disappointed until a second invading cock took its place, and a second unseen fucker started powering into his asshole. In the course of the next hour, four more cocks got off between the ass cheeks of the now excited engineer, who's cock was by now red, and ready to blow. The last act of the assailants was to jerk Jim off until his cock jetted cum over the front of the bar, then they were gone, leaving Jim as they had found him; well not quite. He managed after some considerable time to extract himself from the trap, which he had gotten into. He pulled up the tiny shorts over his abused ass and sore cock, and wondered about the identity of his attackers. Were they fellow officers or members of the African crew? Jim had no idea, although he thought that they might well be Africans as they all appeared to sport large cocks. He left the lounge without getting his beer. He showered again, and thought long and hard about his recent experiences, which after a great deal of thought, he decided he that he rather liked. Sex on the High Seas Eighteen fifty seven had not been a good year for Missus Amanda Williams. In February, her husband Samuel had left her. Not just left her for another woman, but of all people, an actress of twenty something. Whilst losing her husband was hard to take, for a woman rapidly approaching forty, the fact that he opted for a young thing was devastating to her. Then in July, her father had died from a massive heart attack. Being in London when that happened, it was impossible to get home to the family plantation Selby Bluff in Meldrim near Savannah, Georgia for the funeral. Now, though, two months later, after settling her affairs in London, she was about to set sail from Bristol in the West of England to Norfolk, Virginia. Amanda and her father George had never been close, in fact since she was in her teens they had only seen each other a few times. Her mother had been the family, her father was the plantation. He ran it well with a military-like precision and efficiency, which ensured that it made loads of money and was one of the most successful in the Savannah area. Whilst the slaves were, of course, treated very strictly, 'as you had to otherwise they would be lazy,' they were certainly better off at Selby Bluff Plantation than many others in Georgia. George La Salle recognised that even slaves responded to fair treatment and that it was in his and the plantation's interest for them to be well motivated. He achieved that, and thus greater productivity than most plantations, by finding a good balance between fair treatment and strict sometimes harsh physical discipline. Despite having been brought up surrounded by slaves, Amanda found the whole slavery ownership of human beings hard to take or accept. It was her mother, Florence, who had been the driving influence in Amanda's life. A Yankee from Boston, she was well educated and well read. Why on earth she had moved from the sophistication of Massachusetts to the cultural wastelands of Georgia was a question that always fascinated Amanda, but had remained unanswered right up until her mother's death a few years ago. She had ensured that both Amanda and her year younger brother, Adam, had received excellent educations, something that her father felt was a waste of time, particularly for women. Whereas her brother went to Harvard, Amanda never did get to university, or to the finishing school in Europe that Florence had intended. On a weekend trip to New York from Boston where she had been visiting Adam when she was twenty-three, she met Samuel Williams. Amongst other things, he was a professional gambler and simply swept her off her feet. The next weekend he took the train to Boston and not only captivated her again, he swept her into his bed at the original hotel in Copley Place, The Belvedere. Pregnant, she married him a month later at a dazzling wedding in Manhattan, paid for by Samuel. Her father and most of her family apart from Florence and Adam refused to attend. Losing the baby after a few months and being unable to have further children was a heartache Amanda constantly struggled to come to terms with. Unlike most gamblers, Samuel was shrewd. Every time he won, he gave a quarter of his winnings to Amanda and invested another quarter in longer-term, difficult-to-sell investments. One of these was in a theatrical company owned by a descendant of David Garrick, a massive name in the American and English theatres. That investment grew rapidly and provided Samuel and Amanda with a steady income from both the New York and, particularly, the London businesses. "Let's go and live in London, Mandy," Samuel said one night as they lay in bed, still sweaty and panting from their lovemaking, which as usual had been spectacular. They talked about it for some time, with Amanda becoming increasingly more excited at, and interested in, the idea of living in the greatest city in the world, at that time, Queen Victoria's London. Whilst Samuel's gambling increased in London, where big poker games, roulette and Chemin De Fer were all the rage, his main occupation gradually became a theatrical impresario. He loved setting up the plays and music halls, negotiating the deals, motivating writers and, as Amanda found out later, fucking the young actresses. London had been fantastic. Samuel had been fabulously successful as a theatrical producer and latterly as a theatre owner. That had opened doors to so many circles that their five years in England was a whirl of social engagements which reached right up to the level of the Prince of Wales, Queen Victoria's eldest son. They lived in a mansion near to Piccadilly and had an estate in the country in Berkshire, not far from Windsor Castle where the royal family spent much of their time. They travelled frequently visiting the major cities in Europe, even going as far as to sailing down the Nile in Egypt. In many ways it was an ideal life. They were rich and successful and both had interesting work. Amanda had used some of the gambling money from Samuel to open a publishing company and as a hobby had started writing books, under a nom de plume of course. Her description of her writing as 'Jane Austen with red blood' meant that under no circumstances could they be associated with her! That was her secret occupation, even from Samuel. The string of houses of ill repute he owned were his secret from Amanda. As time went on, the brothels became not just a business for him, but also a hobby. It had taken Amanda, and Samuel come to that, to understand and adapt to the 'standards' of Victorian England. In America such aspects of life as etiquette, dress codes, manner, behaviour and morals were clearer and more straightforward than they were in Britain where everything appeared to one thing, but turned out to be something else. For some reason, probably the personality of the thirty eight year old Queen Victoria, social and family life was conducted with such a degree of prudishness that on the surface everything appeared to be of very highly morale values. But scratch that surface and all manner of double standards with pornography, prostitution, opium smoking, mistresses and lovers, kept women and gargoyles quickly emerged. In many ways this suited the liberal, easy going relaxed thinking and loose standards that Samuel, particularly and Amanda to a lesser, but nevertheless meaningful degree held. They were both fairly heavily involved in charity work, having befriended the Earl of Shaftesbury, Anthony Ashley-Cooper, who was the leading philanthropist of the time. Amanda worked closely with him and Florence Nightingale, a nurse who Anthony supported. Samuel had a great interest in boxing and worked closely with the father of John Chambers who went on to develop the Queensberry rules. Overall it was a very heady time. But as Amanda came to learn, nothing is perfect, no couple's life is ideal, and there are always problems of one sort or the other either existing or just round the corner. London in mid-Victorian times was similar to the revolution in the nineteen sixties; it was 'swinging London,' but without the Beatles. With their various interests, Samuel and Amanda were right at the heart of the swinging scene. As usual with most 'swinging scenes,' sex featured strongly and Victorian London was awash with the desires of the flesh. Infidelity was rife among the upper classes, generally and, particularly, within the 'arty' set that Samuel and Amanda frequented. Most men had mistresses and many 'highly respectable' women found nothing immoral in having a lover. The difference between the genders was that men tended to have a series of mistresses, sometimes several at the same time whilst 'respectable' women generally had one lover, preferably lasting some time. The established pattern worked well, though naturally it was never discussed, apart from between very close friends. The whole rather sordid way of life was 'brushed under the carpet.' Pornography was rife and on the increase, with brothels and streetwalkers seemingly everywhere. Not much different to later years, really. Samuel had always been a ladies' man. The tall, slim and muscular long, dark haired man had a highly fashionable, heavy black moustache tinged with grey. His piercing blue eyes seemed to permanently sparkle and, when looking at ladies, appeared to have x-ray abilities that seemed to send his gaze right through their clothing. For the first few years of their marriage, Amanda had believed his flirting was just his way. But slowly, it dawned on her that it was more than that. She never, of course, confronted him with her suspicions, but as time went on and their position in London became more deeply involved with the liberal life-style of theatre folk, her reservations turned into convictions. It hurt at first. She found it demeaning, annoying and frustrating to wonder who, sitting around her table at a dinner party for instance, was being shagged by her husband, or which one of this week's cast was he putting up in a hotel away from the rest so he could pop round for 'afternoon matinees.' After a period of heartache, she gradually came to accept that was just how things were in upper class London. What was good for the goose was good for the gander, she eventually decided, responding to his infidelity by taking her own lover or, more accurately, lovers. After several meaningless, but nevertheless sexually satisfying flings, Amanda settled down with her long-term lover, Sir Bernard d'Argent. Into his fifties, the grey haired man was a scholar, being very versed in early psychology and as a playwright and author. Amanda thought he was the most intelligent man she had ever met; and a good mind had always been far more likely to get her juices flowing than mere good looks. After meeting him at the premiere of a play produced by Samuel, his intellect took just a few weeks not only to get inside her bloomers, but to get them, together with every other piece of her clothing onto the floor of his London apartment in Dover Street. Amanda had been careful, shrewd and, to an extent, lucky with the investments she had made with her share of Samuel's gambling winnings. She had acquired a considerable amount of jewellery, mainly gold and diamonds, invested in two railway companies in America, had bought land in the 'new world' of California and had earned interest from banks in both England and America on the cash deposited with them. When their relationship came to its inevitable end, Samuel was generous with his settlement, including the estate in Datchet and the house in Piccadilly with an annual allowance of several thousand pounds. After her father's death and her decision to return home, it came as a huge surprise to Amanda, after finalising her affairs in London, to find just how wealthy she was. She didn't really want to go back to the Deep South, but reluctantly felt she had no choice. Her brother, Adam was a dreamer, an artist a thinker. He wasn't a doer and he certainly could not run the plantation, well not by himself. She agreed to come home and run it with him until they could find a buyer, or until they decided what alternative courses of action were open to them. *** It was seven months since Amanda had had sex and she was suffering! Since losing her virginity at eighteen, she had not gone that long without it, but with Bernard on a visit to India, she had little opportunity, despite a few of her husband's friends 'offering their services.' Although believing that having a lover was acceptable, Amanda, like many other London women in similar situations to her, could not countenance sleeping around or promiscuity. So in the months leading up to her return home, she was reluctantly forced into celibacy. That changed on the voyage from Bristol to Norfolk. She had not meant to have sex with Jarvis, though was fully aware that men like the Captain regularly had such liaisons as they crossed the Atlantic. She was under no misapprehensions at all what this was about - a shipboard romance, a sexual fling for both of them that would end when they reached America. The feeling as his cock slid into her was amazing. It was like finding sex for the first time. She had forgotten just how wonderful a sensation it was to have a man push himself deeply inside her, filling her, seemingly consuming her and, yes, stuffing her to overflowing. Amanda had hoped to sail home on one of the newer, steam powered ships, but cost constraints by the shipping lines meant that New York was currently their only destination. She had asked around in London and had been advised not to take a cabin on one of the returning cotton ships for they were slow, had inferior quarters and often unruly and vulgar crews. That would never do! Instead, she booked a passage on one of the lighter, faster clippers that primarily transported tobacco into Bristol and light machinery, clothing and other goods back to Norfolk. The Western Spirit carried a maximum of ten passengers, but only five were on this trip. With Amanda were Mr and Mrs Stevensen, an elderly couple visiting their daughter in Baltimore, and Sir and Lady Barton, a middle aged couple who were moving to Washington as part of England's diplomatic team. Amanda had booked the premier cabin located in the stern of the ship. It had its own small balcony and was located near to the Captain's cabin, with only the dining room between the two. Both cabins had doors leading into the well-appointed dining room, where the five passengers dined most evenings in the company of the Captain and his three officers who shared the three eight hour shifts. Richard Jarvis was a career ship's captain. He had served in the Royal Navy for ten years before receiving an inheritance, most of which he invested in the Western Spirit. Being not just the captain, but also part owner, gave him the freedom he craved. A bachelor from Bath, he had an eye for the ladies and he had perfected the art of seduction on many of his journeys. Sometimes with a daughter of a passenger, occasionally with a wife and, rarer, with a woman travelling alone. Amanda was a perfect target. His hopes had been raised when he had checked the manifest and passenger list after the ship had been unloaded following its arrival from Norfolk. The recent advances in the dockside materials handling equipment had speeded up the loading and unloading, and now the Spirit could be turned round in ten days. This enabled Richard to travel up to London for business meetings and to see his mistress there, the wife of one of his business partners. It also provided him with the time to oversee the loading and any repairs and to see his lady friend, his betrothed, in Bristol. Greeting the guests as they boarded the ship, Captain Jarvis felt the familiar fire in his loins when he saw Amanda. Probably in her late thirties, he guessed, she was a typical 'Southern belle'. He admired her pale skin, her lustrous, long, wavy, chestnut coloured hair, but most of all, her wonderful curves. Accentuated by her corset, her narrow waist, delightfully flared hips and deliciously full bust were enough to inflame any red-blooded male. As a footman helped Amanda down from the carriage she had taken from the railway station, Jarvis admired the fashionably low-cut, heavily patterned dress that seemed to gape away her from as she leaned forward descending from the carriage. He loved the warm days that brought out such clothing. The fashionable, very London cut of the dress drew his gaze, along with that of every other man on the deck, to her spectacular breasts. There and then, he vowed that he would be sucking them before the estimated seven-week journey to America was completed. As it turned out, it took him less than two weeks. As most attractive, especially heavily breasted women do, Amanda had felt his attraction to her as they shook hands and he accompanied her onto his ship. The sparkle in his eye was similar to her estranged husband, and she felt comfortable with him as he showed her to her quarters. The cabin had a small sitting room, a bedroom with a dressing room off to one side and doors leading to the balcony, looking out from the stern of the ship, and to the dining room. It had been worth paying the extra for the grandest, most luxurious and private accommodation on the ship. During the first week at sea, the two other officers alternated dining or lunching with the passengers, but the Captain hosted each meal. That wasn't his normal practice, but how else was Richard Jarvis to get to know Mrs Williams as quickly as he needed to? His plan worked well. She sat on his left during the first week, with the captain paying her that extra amount of special attention without ignoring the other passengers. Amanda was flattered at his attention, which gradually became more flirtatious, albeit highly discrete, as they got to know each other. She began to realise that it was probably only a matter of time and as he became more forthright and forward in the second week, she made sure he realised she was interested. She did that in the practised way she had learned in London society, in the way that only women who are confident of their sexual attraction can do. It was not very long before he invited her to join him for an after dinner drink in his Captain's night cabin when the other passengers had retired: discretion and good standards had to be maintained of course! Two days after their first drink in his cabin,, he kissed her. At first it was gentle and respectful on her cheek accompanied by a "Good night Missus Williams." Within a couple of days, however, it was powerful and suggestive right on her mouth, as he said, "I have wanted to do that since the moment I saw you alighting from your carriage, Amanda." She had no hesitation in responding. As they kissed, they both knew it was just a matter of time before they made love. What they did not know as he squeezed her breast, was that it would be as soon as the following day. Mr and Mrs Barton hadn't joined them for dinner as she was slightly unwell, and Sir and Lady Stevensen, as usual, retired early. Amanda and Richard stood on the balcony sipping wine as he smoked a pipe. Their location was completely isolated, they were alone, no one could see them, for the dining room door was locked. Perfect for the seduction he had in mind! He kissed her and she responded. The sexual frustrations Amanda had felt for several months had become more extreme since she had been on the ship. Even her daily masturbation sessions had not provided the real relief she needed. Only a man's cock could do that. In a desperate attempt to assuage her need, she'd one time bravely risked having sex with herself on her secluded balcony. She had only once before been naked in the open air and the feel of the sea air on her bare body was fantastic. Her resultant self-induced orgasm was wonderful, and a second had quickly followed. That was the moment she knew she had to have Captain Richard Jarvis's cock inside her. Even as she recalled that moment, Richard's hand found her breast and squeezed it with just the right amount of pressure. It sent a shudder through her, bringing a little groan of pent up arousal from her mouth. Richard smiled to himself. He recognised the signs of her excitement and frustration, but then he always did. He was used to fucking middle-aged women who had been starved of sex and invariably they reacted in the same way. "I want you so much Amanda," he seductively whispered into her ear, crushing her stomach against his strong erection, as best he could in her voluminous, hooped skirt. She shuddered and groaned again. Never before had she felt such a strong need, nor had such powerful sensations flowed through her. Her sexual frustrations seemed obvious to them both. Shamelessly, she kissed him back, pushing her upper body firmly against his chest. Sex on the High Seas Richard smiled inwardly as he turned up the pressure. Seducing beautiful women was an aphrodisiac of which he would never tire of. "I've wanted you from the moment I met you, from when I watched you climbing down from the carriage. You are truly beautiful and I want to see all of you. I want to make love to you Amanda?" His words crashed into her sexually addled mind. Her body took over and it pressed back even harder against his so inviting erection, which she could just feel through her skirt, petticoat, chemise and drawers. He knew there and then, if there had been any doubt earlier, that she was his. "Wait here," she told him. "When you see me open my door to the dining room, count to twenty then come into my room." Richard was satisfied with that arrangement. It was a not an uncommon one with a new lover for the task of a man undressing his seducee was lengthy and complicated. Amanda felt like a young girl about to have sex for the first time. Was she really a woman approaching her fortieth birthday who had been shagged on average three times a week for over twenty years? 'Yes,' she smiled to herself as she sat in front of the small dressing table taking the pins out of hair, 'I must have been fucked over three thousand times, but I feel as nervous as if it is my first time.' London was the leader in women's fashion in Victorian times, although Paris, naturally enough, always challenged that and later took over that mantle. From Amanda and her friend's perspective, they were both leaders; Paris perhaps in sheer style, London certainly in pushing out the boundaries and being more outrageous. And of course, leading the fashion trends in London were the theatrical, artistic and publishing communities. As a result, Amanda's hair style was not the typical 'pulled tight to her head, parted in the middle and covering her ears fashion, which she knew she would find in America. No, for several years now, London women had been showing their ears by pulling their hair back. They had stopped using the austere flat to the head and centre parting look and instead piled the hair up onto the top of their head, letting long ringlets fall down their forehead and neck and round their ears. As with most women, Amanda had never had much cut from her hair so it tumbled down onto and past her shoulders. Men and women alike admired her naturally curly, beautiful, deep chestnut coloured locks. She pulled the whalebone pins and bone combs from the bun on top of her head, ran her fingers through it and then shook her head so it tumbled down in a slightly unruly, but highly provocative look. Long, wavy locks fell over her eyes and face. A shiver ran through her at the thought of Richard pulling her silken hair aside to kiss her. Standing, Amanda reached behind her and undid the complicated row of hooks and eyes, which ran up the back of the pale lemon, silk bodice. She slipped that off and undid and pushed down her overskirt. In keeping with leading London and Paris fashion, she was wearing a hoop that was quite complicated to remove. It was the main reason she hadn't invited Richard to her room; being undressed by a stranger could be embarrassing and very time consuming. 'Far better to do it yourself' many women believed. Removing the hoop she slipped out of the two petticoats she was wearing to combat the evening chill; sometimes in London's winters she would wear four or five. When she got to the plantation with its summer heat and humidity, she would only wear one and sometimes none at all. She wasn't at all looking forward to the heat. Looking at herself in the mirror as she slipped out of both petticoats, she wished she had a maid here to help. The corset was laced tightly at the back, drawing her naturally, twenty-six inch, and very womanly waist into that of a twenty-three inch, younger female. She pondered a moment or two on the thought of opening her door dressed as she was: a white chemise with lace and frills round the neckline, the oyster coloured corset over that and under it, her white, cotton pantalettes, which came to just beneath her knee and had fine lace round the bottoms. Under that she was wearing black, opaque stockings, held up by a garter, which were tucked into ankle-height boots; she hadn't yet tried the new corsets with suspenders, but had some in her luggage,. She struggled out of the corset, removed her pale grey, kid ankle boots, then her drawers and slipped the chemmy over her head. Just wearing the dark stockings, she surveyed herself in the mirror. Even without the benefits of the corset, Amanda was curvy. Some had described her as voluptuous, others termed her Rubenesque. Whatever the description, she had a body that plunged inwards from the mounds of her full, ripe breasts to the indentation of her waist and then flared out to the delicious, roundness of her so feminine hips. Her stomach remained flat, and her unsuckled breasts, though sagging slightly from their own fullness and weight, stood out proud and inviting, capped by large, coral coloured areola and prominent nipples. Having worn corsets from her early teens, she had, in keeping with many upper class ladies of the time, an upright posture. Her perpetual straight back pushed her chest forwards emphasising the prominence of her breasts; she sometimes wished she could slouch a little! Amanda put her clothes away and contemplated how to greet Richard. As she was, in just her stockings, an attire that she was aware was becoming popular with men when having sex? Or perhaps in bed, sitting on it or standing, she wondered? On balance, she felt that being naked apart from her hosiery was a little too forward, so she slipped into another chemise. This was also white with shoulder-straps and a plunging neckline lined with broderie anglais and lace. It was in the new London style of being tighter, thinner and shorter than worn in most other countries, which certainly included the New World. Hence, the lace-trimmed hem came half way between the top of her legs and her knees and the outline and shadow of her nipples showed through the thin, tight bodice. Richard knew from experience that Amanda had suggested him waiting so that she could undress. That pleased him, for fumbling around with a woman's underwear could be so tiresome and sometimes resulted in the moment of passion passing. He knew that she would take some time, so he smoked another pipe, drank some brandy and removed his hip-length, dresscoat, waistcoat and cravat. His baggy, muslin shirt and tight, wool trousers were both white. He checked the doors from the dining room and his cabin to the rest of the ship, making sure they were locked, and left the room from his cabin to the dining room open. That would ensure that in the unlikely event he was wanted, he would hear the knock. Despite this sort of thing happening on most trips, he was surprised to find himself feeling nervous. He knew that Amanda was upper-class, hugely wealthy, extremely attractive and immensely sexy. Normally she'd be out of his league, but the confidence he had from bedding so many women would, he knew, see him through. 'Once they'd experienced the Captain's cock, women passengers always wanted more' he smiled to himself. He was beginning to wonder whether she had changed her mind when he saw her door opening. Heart pounding, he counted out the twenty seconds and added a few more, just in case. As he walked the few yards from the balcony of the small dining room to her room, he felt himself hardening in the tight trousers. He was ready for action and, by god, he was going to have what he wanted. This beautiful woman would be his greatest conquest yet! "Come in Richard," he heard, enjoying her part British and part Deep South soft tone and accent. With the approaching darkness and Amanda's decision not to light any candles, the cabin was dim. As Richard opened the door, light flooded in from the dining room he was, momentarily framing him in the doorway. She gulped at how alluringly attractive he looked in the off white, tight trousers, the baggy shirt open half way down his chest, and the knee length, black leather boots. As he pushed the door open, Richard made his decision and pushed his erection free from his underpants and the tail of his shirt. It reared in such a masculine way right up his flat, taught stomach to edge just above his naval. He knew from the frequent nude bathing and swimming at the Royal Navy training camp that he was more well-endowed than most and, as with most men, he was proud of that. Amanda was in bed, covered with just a single cotton sheet. Her spectacular form was clearly outlined under it. As they looked at each and smiled, they both felt their arousal begin to peak in anticipation of what was soon to happen. "Hello Richard," she whispered. "Good evening, Amanda," he replied, covering the few yards from the door to the bed in half a dozen strides. "Welcome to my cabin, sir," she smiled loving the look of lust and adoration on his face as he stood beside her bed rampantly erect. "Thank you most kindly madam," he smiled, adding slowly, "Will you be welcoming me to anywhere else?" "Pray sir, what do you mean?" she teased, continuing the verbal charade as they got used to each other in a sexual as opposed to simply a flirtatious situation. Amanda was adopting the speech affectation partly as a defence mechanism against her shyness when with a man for the first time, but also as tease, maybe even a seduction technique. His dark eyes bore into hers as he put one knee on the bed and ran the back of his fingers across her forehead and into her lustrous hair. He stroked her hair downwards, reaching the bare skin of her shoulder. They both felt the sensation as he touched her naked flesh for the first time. The outline of her breasts under the sheet suggested she was wearing a chemise. He wondered what else she wore under the thin sheet. Amanda was unable to hold Richard's eyes. That was not due to her being embarrassed, but was because she felt such a strong compulsion to let her gaze roam down his body. It was as if his cock was a magnet. She could not help herself from focusing on it, imagining its appearance, texture, warmth, smoothness and, of course, most excitingly its hardness pushing into her. Another surge of arousal roared through her. Richard ran his fingers down the lacy shoulder strap of her chemise. He contemplated slipping them inside the material, but resisted. Instead, he took hold of the top of the sheet and lifted it slightly. "Maybe your bed madam, will you be welcoming me there?" Amanda smiled, as she now understood his earlier question. "Gladly sir, but without your boots, for the owner of this bed is very particular." "Indeed he is madam, indeed he is," Richard replied thinking, 'Oh fuck' realising how difficult it is to remove one's boots now that they were worn so tightly. "Of course," he said pushing the side of one foot against the heel of the other, but realising he would need to sit down to remove the very tight, waterproof boots. "Bear with me one moment while I remove them." "Of course, but would you like some help, sir?" "That would be most welcome, ma'am, as normally my valet removes them and I assume you do not wish me to call him?" "No sir," Amanda said revelling in the light-hearted, but very meaningful and sexually charged banter. "I was rather thinking that maybe you would like me to perform his chores for you." "That would be a delight." "Then sir, please sit on the bed." He sat and watched totally fascinated, with rising excitement, as Amanda pushed the bedclothes back. She lay there for a moment or two, exhibiting herself to him before sliding out of the bed and standing before him. He had read about the shorter chemise fashion, but this was the first he had seen. It was so enormously sexy, he had never seen a partially dressed woman showing so much leg before. Nor had he, not since he and a friend had 'bought' two easy women in London, seen a woman in her stockings. Their blackness contrasted beautifully with the whiteness of her chemise and the paleness of her skin on her thighs. Amanda felt brave and confident. Her adventure on the high seas and the knowledge she was with a man she would never see again after the voyage, made her unusually forward in the sexual progress. She stood before him, revelling in his gaze roaming over her body clad in just the thin chemise. Unlike nearly all women's clothing of the time, it did nothing to hide her curves. Being low cut and loose with a hem that ended at mid-thigh, just inches beneath the tops of her black stockings, it also hid very little. As she moved, her heavy breasts, swayed provocatively inside the thin cotton. Her nipples hardened under his lustful stare, making obvious indentations in the material. She turned her back and walked round the bed to where he was sitting, making sure her rotund, voluptuous bum wiggled and jiggled as she walked. As she leaned forward, the hem rose up her sturdy legs showing Richard an almost forbidden sight, the flesh above her stockings! Leaning forward and grasping his boot so the chemmy gaped, she heard him utter an involuntary gasp as her breasts hung down and he saw their ripe fullness. She looked up and their glances caught. His boots came off easier than either imagined. Quickly they were lying beside the bed and Amanda was standing between his opened knees. They stared at each other, both aware that the flirting and charade of earlier had ended. Now was the real thing, and both were more than ready. He reached out and rested his hands on her hips. "Kiss me Amanda?" he asked, both of them being only too aware that would mean she had to lean forward. She did and their mouths converged. He broke the kiss fairly quickly to look at the spectacular sight of her breasts hanging down in front of his face. His cock lurched. They were truly magnificent! He simply had to touch them. Amanda looked into his eyes as she dangled her breasts invitingly in front of him. She knew precisely why he had asked her to kiss him and she was most willing to comply with his request. Her breasts were aching for his touch. When that came, her body jerked with pleasure and she groaned with satisfaction. As they kissed again, Richard slowly ran his hands up from her hips, along her sides, round to her front, inside the gaping, low-cut top of the chemise and right onto the warm, smooth flesh of her two symmetrically, delicious orbs. For both the man and woman, the first touch of his hands on the bare flesh of her breasts is very special. It's not only such a dekicious feeling for both parties, but also such a strong indicator of her willingness to give herself to him. For the woman, the hardening of her nipples indicates her willingness for him to go further as she offers her body and flesh to him. For the man, it is a further step towards invading her body. For both of them it is an explosion of sheer fucking pleasure that rushes through their bodies, causing her female juices to flow and his pre-cum to ooze out from his hardened cock. As Richard cupped and squeezed her breasts, Amanda knew she might cum just from his touch. So immense were the feelings after such a long time, it was very a close thing. But she fought the feelings, whilst at the same time revelling in what this man, her soon to be new lover, was doing to her body. "Oh God," she groaned holding his face in her hands and kissing him as deep as she could. "Amanda, your breasts are wonderful," he sighed, one of his hands scrambling to find the hem of the chemise. "Let me see them, I want them." His words made Amanda want to flaunt herself at him. Catching his hands in the top, she stood up. Looking right into his eyes with as provocative a gaze as Richard had seen in many a year, she took hold of the mid-thigh hem of the chemise and whispered, "Your word is my command Captain." Slowly she pulled the garment up her body. Past her stocking tops, across the patch of skin above them, over her tawny, quite lustrous, pubic hair, through which her pink lips glistened so invitingly, up her flat stomach, narrow waist and lower chest and then marvellously over her big tits. Pulling it over her head, Amanda shook her hair making her breasts wobble in the most erotic manner. "Well, sir?" she teasingly whispered, striking a highly provocative pose with one knee bent and one hand on her hip with her crotch thrust out towards him. She felt so wonderfully saucy, a feeling exacerbated by being nearly fully exposed before this, almost, fully dressed sea captain. "If, madam," he said quietly doing nothing but running his gaze up and down the near naked figure of his passenger, "the 'well' refers to my impression of your body, then the answer is you are beautiful, your body is magnificent and you are arouse me completely." "Good," she smiled, running the palms of her hands lightly across her hardened nipples. "But if, madam, the 'well' refers to what next, to what I would like to do next...?" "Yes Captain it does that too," she interrupted with a delicious giggle. "Then, Missus Williams, I intend to have the pleasure of fucking you right here and now. Tell me, ma'am. Would you like to be well and truly fucked by your Captain?" Another, deeper, surge of arousal ran through Amanda. It wasn't a question that needed a spoken answer. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed Richard full on the lips. In a few seconds his cock would be inside her and after seven months of abstinence, she'd willingly abandon herself to the sexual whims of this experienced sea dog. Naked, apart from her stockings, Amanda broke the kiss and stepped back two paces. With graceful ease, she performed a deep curtsy, of the type she had learned before being introduced to Queen Victoria last year. Placing her right foot slightly apart from the left, with the toes on level with the heel on her left foot, she bent both knees, slowly going further and further downwards until her right knee almost touched the floor. Her rotund bottom stuck out invitingly behind and her breasts, now seeming to be presented to the floor, hung down from her chest emphasising their weight and size and seeming to cry out for a hand or two to cup them. Richard watched this fascinating display combining the extreme etiquette of a royal bow, with the near nudity of a soon to be lover, with increasing excitement. "Humbly sir, may I have your permission to speak my mind?" she asked provocatively. "Of course madam, pray do," Richard answered, his throat dry and his voice croaky with excitement. Amanda looked up from her position of supplication, caught and held Richard's gaze and said in a measured, calm and confident voice. "Then with your kind permission sir, I humbly advise that you fucking me will provide me with the greatest of pleasures." Hearing such a word as 'fucking' slip from between her lovely lips was an enormous turn on. It was so rare in his world, but not so in the one that Amanda had inhabited, for a lady to swear at all, let alone talk about herself being fucked. He felt his already hard cock grow another couple of inches "Would madam remain bowed like that?" he asked. Of course, sir, madam is at your command. But pray sir," she added as she saw him stand up. "If I may be so bold to ask, why?" She watched as Richard's fingers undid the tie round his waist and then the bone buttons of his flies. "Because of this madam," he said sliding his trousers and drawers down and stepping out of them. Amanda was disappointed that his long muslin shirt covered his manhood. "I see," she muttered, not being able to think of anything wittier, due to her level of excitement mounting as she watched the tail of his shirt slowly rising up his body as he lifted it over his head. Sex on the High Seas His cock was everything it had promised to be when she had seen the outline under his trousers. It was awesomely sturdy and respectably long. Neither Samuel nor Bernard was particularly well endowed, certainly not to the girth of Richard. In fact, only one of Amanda's lovers, the prize-fighter, Jeb Stones, who it was rumoured had mixed blood and was what society in London called a half-caste, had been. 'And boy had he?' Amanda often thought reminiscing about the amazing feeling of being stretched to what seemed tearing point; of being filled to overflowing and of having something so long that it felt as if it would rupture something. She also thought, deep down, that once a woman has experienced being 'fully stuffed,' as she had with Jeb several times, it was something that she would just have to repeat, or at least yearn for during the rest of her sexually active life. Looking at Richard's splendid manhood, although not quite of the size of Jeb's, she realised that her yearning was about to be satisfied. He moved closer so that his cock was level with her face and his balls were hanging down beneath her chin. He edged forward further until it was just inches from her eyes and she could see the smaller as well as the larger pulsating veins and sinews. Her breath caught in her throat as his hands found her head and his fingers went into the lush mass of chestnut hair. In response, her hands found his slender hips, her fingernails digging into the softer flesh of his taught, pert buttocks. She looked up into his eyes. He smiled. She smiled back. Still curtsying in front of the ship's captain, she watched as he slowly thrust his hips forward until the warm, smooth hardness of his erection pressed right against her cheeks, her mouth, and her face. She reached up, took it in her hands, pulled it so it was nearly horizontal and with a growl, she opened her lips and licke up the length of his cock. It seemed the most natural thing to do. Amanda didn't even consider that Richard might find it a bit forward. It didn't enter her mind that he would not want it. It didn't occur to her for one moment that he wouldn't want her to suck his cock. So she did and found out very quickly that it was precisely what he did want. He adored oral, but in the rather closeted world of his betrothed, his young mistress and the few passengers he seduced it was not that common; it was though in Amanda's world. She didn't make him cum, that wasn't the idea, well not yet. But she did everything else that her time mixing with actors and other creative people had taught her. She licked his length. She ran the tip of her tongue round his foreskin, wetting the purple head and easing the foreskin back. She ran her tongue from the tip, right down the back of it onto, round and then under his balls. She licked them, she took one, then the other and then both into her mouth and gently sucked them. Now kneeling with Richard bending forward so he could get to her, she pulled his cock almost parallel to the ground. She licked it again and then, looking into his eyes she slowly sank his cock right into her mouth. Richard simply adored being fellated. Unfortunately, most women he met either did not do it, or if they did, they were too rough. Amanda was perfect. By an enormous margin, it was the best fellatio he had ever received. He toyed with simply grabbing her head pulling it towards him and then vigorously fucking her mouth. But he didn't, he left her in control and, instead, reached down and found her glorious, naked breasts. "I think you had best stop now, madam," he eventually gasped, the tide of arousal dangerously gathering in his balls. "And pray sir, why is that?" she teasingly asked. "Because you sexy, horny, little bitch you'll make me cum if you don't" "And, my Captain," she said with a twinkle in her eyes "Pray what harm would there be in that?" "No harm," he grunted, helping her stand up, pulling her naked breasts against his hairy chest and pressing his hard cock firmly against her belly. "But madam, your captain needs and wants to fuck you first." "Mmmm, but may I enquire my Captain what you mean by first?" Amanda smiled, kissing him and running her fingertips up and down his cock, bringing more sighs and moans from the aroused man who replied. "Madam, you will see and you will not be disappointed I promise you that." She walked over to the high bed with the feather mattress, climbed up onto it and laid in the middle knowing the moment was nigh when her celibacy was to end. Her frustration was enormous, her need for sex was extreme as Richard joined her on the bed and lay beside her. The feeling then, as his cock slid into her was amazing. It was like finding sex for the first time. She had forgotten just how wonderful a sensation it was to have a man push himself deeply inside her, filling her, seemingly consuming her and, yes, stuffing her to overflowing. Amanda quickly found that Richard was a good lover. He was energetic, considerate and creative. He combined using his hands and fingers with his mouth and tongue and, of course, his gorgeous cock. As a consequence, when he fucked Amanda that first, and wonderfully every, time she was pleasantly surprised to have so many parts of her body being stimulated at the same time. She opened her legs so he could snuggle down between them, his cock resting firmly on her pubic mound. Due to its angle it bent round a bit so that the broad base, near where it became his scrotum, was pressed right against her clitoris, sending lovely feelings through her. Occasionally breaking the kiss to lick or suck the other's lips, Amanda's entire mouth was being stimulated. Richard had one hand on her breasts, squeezing the soft flesh and pinching the firm rubberyness of her bloated nipples, sending more and more sensations through her. Once he had slid his cock into her and allowed her insides to accustom themselves to its bulky visitor, her entire stomach seemed to explode with sensations. And then he fucked her! He didn't restrict his ministrations to those things, but slithered his other hand underneath her, down her back and slipped his finger into the crease of her bottom, pressing right on her anus. "Oh God," she groaned recalling how partial Sir Bernard was to anal sex of all descriptions. It took little time for him to give her the first orgasm. That surprised Richard, for he assumed a woman as sexually sophisticated as Amanda would have had much longer staying powers. Yet within only a few moments, her body was shaking, her head was rolling from side to side and she was moaning and grunting. Her fingers dug into his back and her legs came up and wrapped themselves round his hips, gripping him tightly. "Oh God, oh my God, yes, yes, yes" Amanda moaned as those marvellous feeling roared through her. "Yes Amanda, yes, cum for me," he encouraged, his arousal increased by the way she almost lost herself in her rising orgasm. He held his cock rigid inside her, forcing it as deeply into her as possible and letting her ride that through the tempestuous few moments of her first, of what he knew would be many, climaxes. She finished as quickly as she had begun. "Oh that was amazing," she murmured, pulling him into a deep kiss before staring into his eyes once more. Her fingers ran up and down his back and into his hair. He ran his hand across her face pushing the locks of lustrous, deep brown hair away for her green eyes. "I love watching a woman cum." Amanda felt embarrassed. It was unlike her to cum so quickly, but then she had never gone so long without full sex before. "It's been some time," she smiled to Richard, kissing him. "Thank you, it was wonderful." "Good," he replied, slowly starting to move inside her. "Ready for another?" "Mmmmm, yessss," Amanda replied, quickly picking up his rhythm and matching him thrust for thrust. This time she didn't cum quickly or too soon. This time he fucked her for at least twenty minutes. All right she came again mid-way through, as well as with him at the end. This time he not only attended to all those places he had before, but also moved their position. From being on top of her between her spread legs, to rolling onto their sides, then having her on top of him to then being on their other sides. Then back to him on top, her with her legs closed, opened wide, wrapped round his waist and then lifted up by him and put over his shoulders. For a first fuck it was magnificent. It set a standard for the rest of the voyage. A standard they maintained with joy and enthusiasm for its duration. *** It took forty-two days for the Western Spirit to cross the North Atlantic. After that first momentous evening when she and Richard had made love nearly all night, Amanda had changed her onboard clothing quite considerably. Recognising that her fellow passengers were extremely boring, and then discovering that Richard's two officers were sleeping together, she spent a great deal of her time in her own cabin and on its balcony. She would, generally, breakfast with the other passengers, dressing formally but without the hoop cage and wearing a simpler, straighter dress. In London, that was so very out of fashion it would have been unthinkable for her to be seen by anyone without her hoops, but here on the ship, that sort of fashion demand did not seem important. Often, with just her chemise, one petticoat and pantaloons under it, she would sometimes also dispense with her corset. At other times she would wear the corset without the chemise, thus having the feel of that against her bare skin. For most women that would have been an unknown sensation, but again the London scene had been experimental with that and Amanda had become accustomed to the feel of the harsh materials of her corset on her skin and breasts. After breakfast, when the weather was clement, she would stroll the upper deck at the rear of the ship where a visit by the crew required an officer's permission. Perhaps doing a little needlepoint or reading, she would mostly write her, as she termed it, 'red blooded Jane Austen.' Occasionally, during the mornings she would complete her diary or write letters for mailing when they reached America. Retiring to her room before lunch, Amanda tended to remove her dress and lay for an hour or so in her underwear. Knowing that following lunch she would most likely have sex with Richard, she prepared herself for his visit. Sometimes wearing just her chemise and stockings, others just her corset and pantaloons, Amanda became increasingly adventurous. As they approached the Eastern Seaboard of America and the end of their journey, she wore her most daring outfits. Just a corset, then just her pantelettes and then on the last wonderful afternoon she went naked under her silk dress. It all felt so liberating and outrageously sexy! But deeper down she was very aware that this was a 'last fling' before the restrictions of the deep south's conservative social scene would be upon her. Apart from two days when inclement weather meant that Richard had more important things to attend to, they had sex daily. It was usually an afternoon quickie and then, depending on his watch, an evening or an all night session, like that first time. Amanda was as sexually satisfied as she'd ever been. That made her arrival in Norfolk all the more difficult to cope with. She toyed with the idea of taking another ship down to Savannah, but was advised by the owner of the hotel where she relaxed for a few days, that the new railroad which ran through Raleigh and Charleston on its way to Savannah and then onto New Orleans, was faster and more interesting. She cabled her brother, Adam, who had returned to the plantation a few weeks earlier, advising him of her changed plans and suggesting that they meet in Savannah. 'Maybe our last chance of some 'civilisation' for some time!' she'd added. His quick reply agreeing with both that and meeting her there, cheered her up immensely. Since landing in Norfolk and bidding farewell to Richard, the prospect of the dank humidity of Georgia and the loneliness of life on the plantation was seriously depressing her. With the surrealism of the ocean crossing, she had been able to put the future out of her mind. She'd had other things to occupy her, largely Captain Jarvis and his gorgeous cock. God, she already missed him and that so much. Several times as she lay in Richard's arms after their always wonderful sex, he had warned her about the troubled times that lie ahead for cotton plantations and the whole South. "Prices are bound to drop so be careful," he had cautioned. Before leaving London, Amanda had read about the talk of secession, particularly by South Carolina, but hadn't realised just how serious it was for now, several States including Georgia were near to leaving the Union. The Union envoy to London, who she and Samuel had got to know well had told them about a relatively unknown lawyer in Illinois, Abraham Lincoln, who was tipped to become the becoming the Republican Party candidate for the presidential elections in 1860, He was violently anti-slavery. So events were combining to create some worrying circumstances. On the train journey to Savannah, Amanda was amazed at the topics of conversation and the intensity of feelings regarding the progress that certain events had made. It seemed that secession by several was inevitable and that some form of retaliation against the South was becoming an inevitability. On several occasions she even heard the dreaded, almost unthinkable term 'civil war' mentioned. Although she'd been dreading the four-day train journey, Amanda was pleasantly surprised. It did get warmer the further south they travelled, but, being early November, the humidity had gone. In Norfolk, she'd stocked up on clothing, particularly buying cotton underwear, chemises, pantaloons and petticoats. The European fashion and most of the time the weather, dictated that flannel, wool and muslin were the more popular materials for ladies underwear, but they were far too warm for the heat and humidity of Georgia. Fortunately the increasing trade with far away countries such as China was introducing, newer, lighter, thinner and cooler materials including silk that was being used for both outer and welcomingly, under garments as well. The climate and the often dreadful smell from the river Thames were the only aspects of London that Amanda had found distasteful. Most of the year, apart from July and August she, along with most women, would wear a number of petticoats under the hoop, for warmth. It was a pleasure and a freedom, therefore, on the train journey south to be able to cut back to just one petticoat as she had on the Western Spirit. She arrived in Savannah fifty-three days after catching the Great Western train from the newly opened Paddington Station in London. It had been a long, eventful and, she freely admitted, a highly pleasurable journey. As the train pulled into the recently completed Savannah railway station, the thought of Captain Richard Jarvis's cock came into her mind for some reason and she felt a surge of wetness between her legs. She wondered ruefully as she luxuriated in that pleasant sensation, when she would next have the chance to enjoy a man as much as she had enjoyed the Captain.