0 comments/ 50184 views/ 2 favorites Caboose By: Allan_Arbinger There were two reasons why July 24, 1973 was the hottest work day of my career. The obvious reason was the Eleven PM radio report that stated the temperature had just dipped to 89. The other reason had nothing to do with the stifling heat. I had just finished gobbling down supper and drove my car to an all-night convenience store, because it was my turn to buy the beer. To make the trip more directly, I took a shortcut on unlit, rutted dirt roads that ran through a neighborhood of old, shotgun houses. Just ahead, beyond my headlight's range, appeared a strange image of two white rectangles bobbing or floating in the middle of the dirt road. I blinked my eyes several times trying to get an accurate picture; dehydration affects perception and judgment. It looked benign, not like a staring pair of headlights; but still, what was it? A little more illumination from my car's headlights briefly suggested the bottom edges of the white rectangles were slowly fluttering back and forth. Next, with more light bathing the subjects, I realized that I was looking at two female asses, both wearing white short shorts. I could make out a brown top on the girl in the middle of the street and a turquoise top on the other girl near the shoulder as I slowed to pass. Now closer, the girls stopped in the middle of the road and turned to look me over. Impulsively, I rolled down the window and stopped the car. "Hi, you girls sure look sharp tonight. I'm Allan, Allan Arbinger. How ya doin'?" Six years of marriage had made my pick-up lines rusty. "Hi, Allan," answered the thinner one in the turquoise top. She strained to look at me. The dashboard lights provided my only illumination. "I'm Rene Caruthers and this is Cleo Watkins." "It's nice to meet you, Rene and you, Cleo. It's a hot one tonight. I was just headed to the convenience store to buy some beer. Can I give you two a ride, at least that far?" I asked. I was way out of my league. Picking up strange women was something Tyndale would do. "A ride to the convenience store?" answered Rene who turned to look her right. "What do you think Cleo?" "Okay. It's on the way to Ricky's," responded Cleo. "Does he look safe to you?" Cleo was brunette and the heavier of the two. Her hair was shoulder length and the moonlight showed a pretty, jelly bean shaped face. She had the nicely formed ass that had delightfully danced in the headlights for me and the moonlight shadows on her brown shirt suggested nicely formed breasts residing just below; breasts that I craved to touch and kiss. "Well," Rene paused looking at my dark figure circumspect. "I think he looks safe." Thankfully, Rene seemed more enthusiastic about my ride offer. Rene sported cheaply bleached blonde hair that probably reached her collar, when she wore one. She had a pretty round face and, like Cleo, was shod in brown penny loafers. "I'm glad that you approve, girls," I said as I opened the car door, letting the moonlight reveal me to them. The extreme physical labor of my job kept me physically fit to where my veins snaked along my arms. "The car's air conditioned. Get in. I'll get you a beer at the store, okay?" I offered. "Okay," said Cleo and she bent to get in on the driver's side and slid along to the passenger door. Their easy continence suggested to me that they were just out for the evening and looking for something to do. "Great. I'm thirsty," replied Rene. She slid in next to the middle. When I sat myself down and began to drive, Rene slid back snugly against me. Her thigh pressed firmly against my thigh. I suspected that Rene was horny and that I might actually pull this off. "I was going to go pick up some beer for our train ride to Indiantown. Have you ever ridden a freight train? If you'd like, I can sneak you into the caboose. We'll be back by five AM. It will be a lot of fun. I guarantee it'll be a wild ride; you won't forget it. Wanna try it?" I laid it all out there expecting certain rejection. Rene spoke looking for confirmation from Cleo, "I guess we can go to Ricky's tomorrow night, okay?" If there was a response from Cleo, I never heard it. "Sure, Allan," Rene answered, "we'll ride in your caboose tonight." "Great. It will be nice to have some company. When we get to the convenience store please call home and tell your moms that you'll be back after 5 AM," I said trying to conceal my glee. What had I done now? Tyndale could reject it but he wouldn't. I was putting my new railroad career in jeopardy by bringing women aboard the train, but then the beer could also get me fired. Then, there was Mr. Christian -- Simon Samuels, the engineer; he would have no part of this. Tyndale would have to help. I gave each girl a dime and they made their calls home while I went inside the store to pick up a case of cold beer and ice. In the harsh glare of the convenience store lights we checked each other out, without pretending not to. I was drawn to Cleo's pretty face and the extra weight that filled out her figure giving her a nice shapely butt and those large, attention-grabbing breasts. My mind vividly undressed Cleo while making the purchase. Would this actually happen? Back in the car, with Rene again snuggled up, thigh to thigh, to me, she pulled the tabs on three beers and we imbibed on the way back to the depot. The neighborhood streets were nearly empty. To make light conversation I began with, "So Cleo, what do you and Rene like to do after work?" was all I had to say to launch Rene into a discourse of their present conditions. They had just graduated high school and were working as check-out girls at a grocery store. They hated the work and crummy pay. I directed the car to the far end of the depot parking lot and parked opposite of our orange caboose. I interrupted Rene's babbling conversation with instructions, "Quiet now. We'll board the caboose and stow the beer. I want you to stay down because I don't want the engineer to see you. He probably won't since he'll be on the engine, but just in case. He's a pisser. You'll be okay. Are you excited Rene? Cleo?" I asked. "I guess," Cleo nodded affirmatively. Once the car motor was off, the dominant night sound, emanating from the far end of the siding, was the sound of the throaty, idling diesel locomotive accompanied by a fainter, high pitched supercharger. This sound was punctuated with frequent spitting of excess compressed air. We entered the caboose and I stowed the beer in the cooler and directed the girls to sit on the bunks. "Where're we going, Allan?" Rene asked. "This job is the second West Palm Switcher," I answered. "We work from 5 PM until 5 AM. We've spent all day building our train for Indiantown. We usually lunch here and then run an hour to Indiantown. There we spend about three hours putting out loads and pulling empties. Then we run another hour back, put our train away, and knock off." Things seemed to be progressing well but then there was still Tyndale to deal with. The night concealed the dirty and crude accommodations. To avoid any suspicion from the other crew members, I re-parked my car near the other cars and walked into the crew room. Two of the crew immediately looked at me with expressions that clearly read, "You're late and you're in big trouble." They stood up to go to work. Tyndale looked up, immediately slammed his girlie magazine to the table, yelling, "Where the fuck have you been?" "Sorry, I had diarrhea," I feigned. I handed the bag of beers to Sedgwick and said, "Here, I'm gonna ride in the cab northbound." "The hell you are -- so you can sleep?" Tyndale looked suspiciously at me. "We only take the cab 'cause the trainmaster says so; this ain't no damned through freight. You'll ride in the engine where the work is, you fuck-off." I picked up my radio and followed the crew out towards the engine. "John," I called out to Tyndale. He turned and I motioned that I had a secret. I spoke low, "I have two girls in the cab. Still wanna ride on the engine?" Tyndale turned to look at me. "You ain't shittin' me, are you boy? I'll kick your ass," he said, giving me the evil eye. I shook my head. Tyndale pitched his booming voice to the brakeman and the engineer headed to the engine, "Hey, Arbinger's got the runs. I'm gonna ride the cab so's he don't fall in." Tyndale and Samuels were deep country boys. Big, muscular, mustached, and thirty-one, John Tyndale was often mistaken for the Dolphin's fullback Larry Csonka in the local bars. He told me that he had to learn the names of the coaching staff to keep people believing in him while he consumed their hospitality and beer. We walked back to the caboose and boarded the front door. The girls shrieked as they huddled together. They had an uncertain look in their eyes. I spoke first, "This is John Tyndale our conductor. He's the boss and what he says goes. John, let me introduce Rene and Cleo. I promised to show them a wild train ride." Tyndale cracked a rare smile and launched into a polite character that I never thought possible. He dismissed me with, "Go check the brakes." As he showed the girls the observation cupola, I went outside and radioed the engineer set the brakes and then release. We were ready to go. Tyndale passed around the beers in time to hear the slack being taken up as the locomotive pulled forward. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Boom. The caboose's sides flexed as it jolted into forward motion. The girls squealed. Tyndale and I laughed. Our trip to Indiantown had begun. "A good way to see the countryside is from the cupola. Let me show you," I said. Rene and Cleo followed me to the ladder where I directed them to climb to the cupola chairs on top. Rene asked, "Why are the seats so high up? "As the train rounds a curve you can see if anything's on fire. These are the comfortable chairs because the old through freight crews would often ride for sixteen hours at a time," I explained. Although she looked at me sincerely, I easily determined that Rene was uninterested in railroad lore. Her short bobbed hair enhanced her pretty face in the passing lights as we rolled on. The train continued to pick up speed. The click-clack of the rails became faster and the uneven track made the cab car gently bounce. The meeting of the rail and the wheel underneath the cab provided most of the noise. Sometimes the sound was punctuated by the engineer blowing for a crossing ahead and the gate's ringing bells and flashing lights would later whisk by. The cab's worn out seals meant that little streams of air constantly passed through the caboose. As the train approached the city limits there was less exterior light, making the cab interior even darker. "Rene, could you come down here, please," requested Tyndale in his polite voice. Rene obediently rose and climbed down the steps. Instinctively, I surmised that Tyndale had begun to make his move on Rene. No brilliant tactical moves came to me with Cleo. If I blew it with Cleo by saying something stupid, Tyndale would tell everyone, over and over. I moved to the now vacant seat and looked over at Cleo who was amusing herself by putting her face into a stream of leaked air that gently tossed her hair and cooled her face. "What do you think about train riding?" I asked, immediately realizing how stupid it sounded. Cleo finished the last of her beer and just shrugged, "I guess it's better than going to Ricky's." I studied Cleo in the dark. The clicking and clacking of the rails continued to gently rock us. "I'm not from this area; is Ricky's a club or a bar?" I asked. Cleo giggled. "No Allan, Ricky is someone we knew in high school. He sells pot. We were looking for something to do tonight when you appeared. You looked safe. Are you safe?" she teased. "I guess you'll have to find out," I teased back. "I found you very attractive back there on that dirt road. The moonlight favors you, Cleo," I complimented but she looked blankly at me without response. Actually, the moonlight washed all her color away and left her face a bright gray. Her brunet hair was solidly black. I filled the conversation void with, "Do you find that seat comfortable, Cleo?" "It's all right. Can I have another beer?" she asked, setting down her empty can. In the dim light of the caboose, Cleo forced a smile. I'd rather she pretended infatuation with me, but then, nobody was aboard for love. The randomly vibrating caboose gently shook all of her flesh. "Certainly, you may have another beer," I rose and moved to take her empty can. Surprising Cleo and myself, I impulsively bent over and kissed her lips and then rushed down the ladder to retrieve two beers from the forward room. As I ascended the rungs I caught a glimpse John and Rene embracing; Rene was clad only in her panties. Sitting in my seat, I pulled the pop tabs open. Cleo began to glare at me when I did not pass the can to her. "Come sit with me, Cleo. You haven't seen this side yet," I offered. She crossed over and sat on my lap. We drank and I began to run my hands up and down her back to her delight. Looking outside Cleo complained, "There's nothing to see. This side is swampland, too." "True," I said, "but now I have a pretty girl on my lap. She is very sexy. Is she ticklish, too?" I began to walk my fingers in spider fashion around her ribs and stomach, which revealed her ticklishness. Cleo turned her head to look at me. I quickly moved my hands to guide her face farther around so that I could properly kiss her. She relaxed her lips and I directed my tongue inside her mouth to tantalize her. She seemed to relax all over. Finally, I directed my free hand to encompass those magnificent breasts. She responded by wiggling her butt on my lap and then she penetrated her tongue into my mouth. Being encouraged, I lowered my hands from her breasts and began to stroke her thighs and moving up and down her inner thighs as she spread her legs in the cramped position. Cleo tried to arouse me by stroking part of my chest with her hand but the cramped position was just too awkward. "I want you, Cleo," I spoke low, "Let's go downstairs." "I'm ready," she replied. She got up and climbed down the copula ladder to the main floor. I followed. We went into the forward room and I said, "Kiss me again, Cleo." There was no ignoring the unmistakable sounds of slapping flesh and passionate grunts coming from the next room. "No, take your shirt off, Allan," Cleo said and she removed her own brown top and bra. I stared at those eye-popping breasts as they gently rocked as the caboose rocked. Cleo took me by the hand and, to my surprise, led me into the dark of the back room where Rene was finishing off John. The black bunk mattress was on the floor with Rene on her back with her knees up and bent to allow her feet to be located just behind her hips, but spread wide apart. John's cheek muscles flexed with each thrust into Rene; his manner and speed was like a mad man. Rene rolled her head from side to side with her hands firms fixed into John's scalp. I stood behind Cleo and let my hands fondle her breasts at will, the nipples now hard, until John climaxed and collapsed. Rene gave a look at Cleo with a crooked smile. Cleo turned to me and, pushing on my chest to leave the room, said, "That's what I want, Allan. Can you do that to me?" In the next room I half whispered, "You let me know afterwards." I sat and began to quickly untie my boots, but paratrooper boots take a long time to unlace. Cleo calmly stood watching me as she kicked off her penny loafers and then slid off her white short shorts. I just couldn't make my fingers move any faster on those boots. Eventually, I stood to unbuckle and remove my jeans. I stood ready in my whites with my boy at action station, as the Brits would say. "Cleo," I said, "turn around. I want to see your butt." Cleo giggled and dutifully turned and I slowly pulled down her panties to her ankles and then I stepped back to admire this woman. "Such a magnificent ass; this is Hall of Fame ass, you know," I complimented her. She as a bit heavy but nicely proportioned for comfort. "So, turn around now, Cleo," I almost begged. Doing so, Cleo gave me an expectant smile. Her full bush of lush brown hair and magnificent breasts stopped all time for me; there was only one thing to do now. "Come, lay on the bunk, Cleo," and I guided her to lie on her back. The clicking and clacking of the rails added to the racing of our hearts. My natural instinct is to shove it in and pump away until I explode but long ago I learned its better to make love to a woman in a way in which she begs for me again and again. I knelt to kiss those magnificent melons and tease them with my tongue. My left hand softly caressed her cheeks and lips while my right hand touched her gently between her legs. I could feel moisture building as I kept rummaging through the outer labia, teasing her clit and vagina. Sensing the symptoms of the building organism in her, I raised my head to begin kissing her mouth. She tried to wrap her tongue around mine as if to pull me into her. Her hands caressed my head and hair. Then her nearest hand sought to find my penis but I kept my hips too far back. I would control this seduction and not her. "Come into me now, Allan. What are you waiting for?" Cleo implored. I could feel the first preliminary waves of orgasm shake her body. "Hurry up, Allan." I disengaged and stood up to peel off my white underwear. I noticed Tyndale and Rene standing naked by the cupola rungs watching us. At first, I stood to block Cleo's view of the voyeurs but gave up to get on with business. Cleo seemed transfixed by the watchers until I rammed it hard up her; I swear my dick must have reached up to her throat. The dim cab, the gentle rushing wind through the poorly sealed caboose, the spectators behind me, the illicitness of the affair, the steady rocking of the car that rocked those large, beautiful breasts all combined to make this most memorable coitus of my life. A series of deep and frequent thrusts would passionately and delightfully move Cleo and me along to orgasm. To keep this from ending too soon, I presented a series of less frequent thrusts and pulled my body back to where I could sense my penis head was almost out of her before sending it in again. To this Cleo would try to lower her pelvis to prevent me from slipping out and she would plead, "Fuck me! Fuck me harder!" It was during a transition from slow thrusts to fast thrusts that Cleo dug her nails into my scalp and pleaded, "Fuck me harder! Harder!" Her body writhed passionately. "Keep going, Cleo. Don't stop," I commanded. Cleo's body was heaving as she gushed out her climax all over my dick and the black plastic mattress. I arched up my body in sweet pain, "Keep going. Keep moving," I said as my body stiffened with an explosion of ecstasy. Cleo kept grinding until I sunk on top of her in a worthless heap. She immediately yelled, "Get off of me, asshole. I can't breathe." I rolled onto the floor and lay on my back. John and Rene smiled at each other. Cleo sat up immediately grabbing for her clothes, "Sorry Allan. I didn't mean it." "Wait," I said gasping for breathe, "I have an idea. Wait. A second please. Just put your shoes on. Don't lace them. Rene and John, do me this favor. Just put your shoes on. I want to show you something, okay? It won't take long and it will be something memorable." Rene agreed and left to put on her loafers. As Tyndale followed her out, he quipped, "You don't have to apologize, Cleo. He is an asshole. I know him better than you." Cleo shot him a quizzical glance. Tyndale stammered. "I mean, I've known him longer than you." Cleo smiled. "That's not what you just said, John," mused Rene. "So, what have you two boys been doing riding in this caboose until you met two horny bitches tonight, huh? I wanna know." Caboose I rose to my feet after having just stepped into my unlaced boots. I pulled Cleo's hand to the back room and said, "Let's go out on the veranda." I pulled hard to open the back door against the suction of 60 mph winds. The dust began to swirl in the cab and I said, "It's like being on a romantic sea cruise." The flooring of the veranda was really teethed strips of metal that one can stand on. Looking down, the crossties rushed by in a blur underneath. The scenery disappeared at 60 mph and the eddying wind currents blew the hair of Rene and Cleo wildly about. The moonlight was partly blocked by clouds and it cast our naked bodies in a strange, bright gray color. This gray contrasted starkly with our black pubic clumps, which became indigo black. The same solid indigo color painted the scalps of Cleo, Tyndale, and me. It took a minute for our vision to adjust but then the beauty of the scene became apparent. "Better make sure that door's not locked or we'll all be fucked," admonished Tyndale. The night was still and motionless except for the near scenery roaring away. It was especially romantic because of our daring nudity. The landscape scenery soon lost its appeal to the four riders. The boys began to notice the effect of the gentle shaking of the caboose on the girl's boobs. At the same time, the bouncing dicks were noticed. Cleo spoke, "John, I believer your pecker bounces more. And it's bigger, too. What do you think Rene?" Rene averted the potential machismo confrontation with, "Allan, would you mind getting me another beer?" "Yah, asshole, get all of us one," seconded Tyndale. I quickly returned with another round. In that area there were many unattended crossings but a signaled crossing went by and the attended guard shack was lit with a guard standing inside. Tyndale and I knew we had just passed the Pratt & Whitney jet engine test range and that we had about ten minutes until we reached the bridge at Indiantown. Cleo asked, "Did they see us?" "No, they're not looking," I answered. "Look, I piss on Pratt & Whitney," said Tyndale as he pointed his dick so his pee made a nice arc to where the crazy, eddying wind carried it away in a swirl. Rene and Cleo laughed. After giving it a few shakes Tyndale turned to me and said, "Top that, asshole." Without a verbal response I slightly bent my knees and aimed for a high arc and gladly emptied my bladder. Then Tyndale addressed Rene and Cleo, "Now, you two do it. Piss on Pratt & Whitney." "But I don't have a pecker like you do," said Cleo taking the bait. "Well goddamn girl, just spread your legs and piss," replied John. The girls both held the railing and widened their stances. "Now piss on Pratt & Whitney," he commanded. As soon as the pee began to fall through the open floor, the wind blew it back up as a swirling unseen mist and covered everyone. Cleo ceased immediately but Rene did not. "Goddamn girl, stop it," roared Tyndale. "Sorry, but I can't stop it," cried Rene. The pee mist continued to swirl about and painted us until Rene drained her bladder. Furious, Tyndale stormed inside. He found Rene's turquoise blouse and wiped himself off with it and proceeded to dress for work. Rene began to cry. I embraced her as I had wanted in the beginning. "Don't cry. As you can see, he is just a moron. This was his idea and not yours," I reassured her. She held me tightly. "Sorry, but I have to go," I said. She seemed mollified. We all went back inside the cab. We dressed silently. The train went into the Indiantown siding and stopped. "Stay in the shadows. Keep down and no talking. If that engineer comes aboard we're all fucked," growled Tyndale. He barked orders on the Handi-Talkie and we began to work Indiantown. At the first stop we met the brakeman Charles Sedgwick. His first words were, "What's going on back there? All this secrecy is driving Samuels nuts. He swears he's going back there to find out. He's been talking Korea and preaching again. I can't take it no more. Whoa, you guys stink!" "Arbinger here bought more beer. Will that keep Samuels?" asked Tyndale concerned. "Doubt it. Mr. Holy Roller is a one-drink man but gimme some more and I'll try. By the way you haven't answered my question," persisted Sedgwick. "Arbinger here also brought along two bitches. We've been fucking their brains out," bragged Tyndale. "Ain't that right, boy?" I looked at the disbelieving face of Sedgwick and answered, "True. They gave us both the golden shower." "Bullshit! Bullshit," growled Sedgwick in disgust, thinking he was being lied to. "You guys are assholes," and he turned to walk away. "No shit. Tomorrow Arbinger will work the footboard and you'll flag. You'll see. You buy the beer and lots of it," offered Tyndale. My faced flushed with anger because that meant he was taking the girls for himself and Sedgwick. I remained calm, confident that I could do something to remedy this situation before tomorrow. I kicked some ballast rocks into the air. Over the next three hours, when I could, I kept looking at the caboose and saw and heard nothing. I wondered if the girls had somehow left. There was something more important to worry about. What could I say to Rene and Cleo to keep me in the caboose tomorrow night and keep Sedgwick on the engine? It was not fair that I be kicked out. I boarded the cab and looked inside with my lantern spotlight. The three black plastic bunk mattresses were on the floor arranged in the shape of an "H". I noticed the legs of Rene and Cleo in the cupola seats. I radioed the engineer to begin the brake test and Tyndale boarded. The test complete, we pulled out. It would take another hour to return to West Palm Beach depot and put our train away. Tyndale and I sat on the bare bunk to remove our hats, gloves, lanterns, radios, and flares and to briefly rest. Rene and Cleo came down from the cupola and opened fresh, cold brews for us. As they sat next to each of us, Cleo asked, "What did you do there? We saw the engine go back and forth." Even in the dim light I could tell they weren't wearing underwear. I began to get happy again. I had thought of changing partners but didn't want to risk the suggestion. The twitch in my pants returned. I answered, "We spotted loaded boxcars of cattle feed and picked up empties about town. At the water plant, we left a covered hopper of lime and a tank of Chlorine gas." "Hey asshole," Tyndale interrupted, "she doesn't wanna hear that shit and neither do I. So girls, why did you put the mattresses on the floor?" "We thought it was so romantic," Rene began, "that we want to return to the veranda with you, okay? Let's all get undressed; that is, if you want too." Tyndale smiled and muttered his agreement. Rene and Cleo rolled their shirts over their heads in one quick move. I sat transfixed, marveling at these fine specimens of womanhood. My mind is programmed: bare boobs automatically mean sex is coming soon. I quickly removed my tee shirt and then began the arduous unlacing of the black paratrooper boots. Eventually Tyndale stood first in just his unlaced high top boots. Rene rose to drop her shorts and stepped before Tyndale to grab a hold of his extended penis. She then escorted him outside to the veranda. Her shapely rear was lean and tight. When I finished, Cleo rose and removed her white shorts. Her soft hand grasped my engorged penis and we joined them outside. The four of us stood once again on the cab veranda, this time not saying a word but sipping our beers. I knew it was a strain on Tyndale to be quiet and romantic. Rene spoke first, "Allan, this is really something. Very few people see the world like this. Thanks for showing us. Cleo and I, we've been talking while you were working. I hope you don't mind. We just want to be honest with you." After a split second of silence I answered, "I am glad that you like my veranda. Go ahead; we're all adults here. Be honest." "We like you both. We've been talking while you were working. We've been talking about sex. We've been wondering; who is the better screw, John or Allan?" finished Rene. "That sounds like serious science to me. I think I can speak for John. We'd be happy to participate in any additional research. What did you have in mind?" I asked with a smirk. Instead of answering, Rene and Cleo gazed out at the receding shadows of Indiantown. Their hair fluffed in the unruly eddy currents of air that ruled the veranda. "Perhaps if we switched partners," I continued, "then you could each be more objective in your evaluations. We're ready to sacrifice. Again, we want to do everything possible to make this a memorable trip for you." Standing nude in the pale light with her hair whipping her face, Cleo looked truly remorseful to have had Rene asked me that question. "We were, no, I was afraid that you'd be mad at us," she said apologetically. Reaching one hand under her chin and the other around her lower back I pulled her a step closer to me and kissed her passionately. "No, I'm not mad, Cleo. There's always tomorrow night, right?" I asked pressing her naked body against mine. "I'm just so glad that I stopped to meet you two," I concluded. I released and put my hands on the Rene's face and began to kiss her as passionately as I could while standing on a bouncing caboose veranda. Soon, I moved my hand down between her legs to get her used to me. She spread her legs to make room for my finger to penetrate deeper. "Well, goddamn, stop talking, and let's go," Tyndale spoke as he grabbed Cleo's ample ass. "Not so fast John, I need you to get me wet first. See?" spoke Cleo, looking at us making out. We went into the room with the mattresses arranged. Looking about Rene announced, "Here, sit your butts on the crosses." Tyndale and I sat on the elevated "H" intersections and laid back on the mattresses, making our heads even and about two feet apart. Our two penises were in the air, greatly ready to receive our rewards. The girl's eyes were affixed to the bobbing penis heads. Rene stood over me and gently lowered her torso and moved my dick to slide into her wet pussy. I immediately began thrusting up and down and she did the same. I reached and fondled her smaller breasts. The visual cue of a brown bush and dyed blonde hair always arouses me; I continually enjoyed her bouncing body. I pulled Rene down to kiss me and elevated her body so that her breasts would swing across my chest. Rene was varying her timing of the thrusts and I tried to match her so that when she came down hard I was pumping up hard and when she lifted, I retracted just short of popping out of her. It took longer this time but eventually I could feel the climax pressure building when Rene asked, "How are you doing there, Allan?" "You are so powerful, Rene. I can't hold it much longer. How about you?" I asked. "John, how are you feeling?" asked Rene. "I'm about to fuckin' blow my wad," replied Tyndale. The girls did a strange thing. They slightly slowed their thrusts and then reached over and began kissing one another. I could see they were tonguing each other and they fondled one another's boobs. I did not care. I was concentrating on holding my load as long as possible. I exploded and dug my fingers into Rene' silky butt to hold on. Soon enough, I climaxed, tensing my head and body, and then went limp. Tyndale did the same, I guess. The girls got up, cleaned themselves with paper towels and melted beer ice, and dressed. Tyndale and I stayed down for the count but eventually we got up, silent and tense, and dressed. Boxers and jeans on, Tyndale sat to lace his boots and started first, "What the hell was that Lesbo shit?" "I'm sorry, John; I hope you didn't mind. Are you mad at us, Allan?" Rene asked sincerely. "No, not really. I just love you girls. I hope that I'm doing enough to please you," I replied slyly. "Thanks, Allan. You certainly are; more, even, than you'll ever know," answered Rene. "The truth is, we had seen it in a dirty movie down town. In it the two girls did what we did and it drove the boys wild. We wanted to see what it was like; I hope you're not mad at us." "Damn right! That's fucking disgusting," snarled Tyndale. "Ignore him, he's a caveman," I said. "Now you've made me curious. What was it really like?" "Really, for me, kissing another woman is not the same as kissing a man. And it was so hard to do both, fuck and kiss, at the same time. I think just fucking would have been better," replied Rene. "Cleo, how was it for you?" I asked. Tyndale was not going to hear this female talk so he up and popped open the last beer. Cleo answered with her hand in front of her face, "I would say the movie was fake." "Oh, Cleo," I said, reaching both hands to her face and pulled her to me. I thrust my tongue as deep as I could. I gave her the biggest hug. When I came up of air, I asked, "How about we do it the right way tomorrow?" "Love to," Cleo said with a look to Rene. Take that, Tyndale. You're not going to kick me out of the cab. "Great. So I gotta know. Who is the best lover, John or me?" I asked with a wide grin on my face. Rene answered craftily for them both, "We'll have to think this over very carefully. You know, give it great thought. We need to sleep on it. Tomorrow we'll tell you, okay?" "Tomorrow? Come to the depot at 9 tonight. You know you're going to keep me up all day wondering," I smiled and hugged and kissed them both. "No get some sleep. We'll drive to the depot and park on the far end, okay?" asked Rene. "Okay by me," I answered. I was pleased because I had just thwarted Tyndale's plan to boot me to engine duty the next day. We arrived back in West Palm Beach and put our train away. The girls got back into my car for their ride home. "Let's drop Cleo off first," suggested Rene with an impish smile. "Okay?" Cleo and I agreed. We rode mostly in silence down the darkened neighborhood roads, with Rene butt up against me on the bench seat. I stopped on the gravel street before a dilapidated, shotgun house, with a sole 25 watt light on outside. "It was really nice to meet you, Cleo," I grinned at her. "Likewise," was all she said, slamming the door. Cleo gave a scant wave to Rene and me before striding over the dead lawn to her front door. A big grin came to Rene's face as she slid away toward the door and turned to watch me drive the few blocks to her house. I glimpsed her eyes moved from side to side as if she was thinking of something important. Then she fixed her gaze on me with a serious look, as if I were leaving for war. I decided to speak first. "So Rene, I've been puzzled all night. Why does Cleo seem so aloof and disinterested?" I asked. "And, why do you end up speaking for her?" Rene responded, "She thinks she's fat and will never attract a good man. But, she thinks you're a good man." I looked at her. "So do I," Rene continued. "Cleo keeps making bad decisions and looks to me for advice." "Thanks for the complement," I answered. "I'm flattered. What do you mean by bad decisions?" "Well, about a year ago she began to smoke every weekend. You now, weed gives you the munchies, so she began to gain weight and much of it first went up top, you know what I mean?" Cleo looked at me and I nodded. "Well, that attracted lots of boys, you know the wrong kind; the kind that just wanted to play with her boobies and fuck." "Imagine that," I answered with scorn. "Rene, I admire how well you care for your friend. I wish I had such a friend." Rene smiled at me. "Something's been a mystery to me about you. It's those paratrooper boots. You got them in jump school, right? That makes you either Special Forces or Army Ranger. You don't look intense, like Special Forces do. Anyway, what's bothering me is this: Why do you take Tyndale's shit? You can kick his ass any day." I stole a quick look and smiled, "Why do you think that?" "I've seen and felt your body, remember? Oh, my house is the third one on the left. Here, Allan, stop. Turn right onto this flood district road," she ordered. Automatically, I complied. Rene continued, "Pull under the banyan tree. I want to talk a little, okay?" "You want to talk?" I asked with a smile. In the moonlight shade of the overarching tree I shut off the engine. "Five Minutes, Rene. I really have to go. It's a long way home and I'm dog tired. You've seen what a day I've had. Besides, I'll be back tonight." I was so dehydrated that my tongue stuck to my cottony mouth. As I looked at Rene and awaited her reply, she turned to look face the front of the car and put her head into the head rest. Then she raised her hips and in one move, pulled her shorts and panties down to her loafers. After kicking off the shorts, she rolled the bottom of her shirt up and tucked it into the bottom of her bra, so that she was naked from the bra down to her loafers. "Oh, Rene," I protested. "I don't think I can..." She smiled and interrupted, "I want to show you something. It's something I've been thinking about." Then she bent over to unfasten my belt and unzip my zipper. By then I could feel the blood begin to engorge my penis. After she slid my jeans down to my boots, she played with my dick with her thumb and forefinger, like a cat toys with a captive mouse, until my prick was upright and ready for service again. "Now that didn't take long. You've been holding out on me, haven't you, Allan?" she teased. Rene looked up, gave me a peck on the lips, and retreated to the passenger door side. "Come over here," she cooed. "Are you sure that your dad won't see us? He will kick my ass back to Miami, you know," I responded as I slid to the middle of the bench seat. "Momma and Daddy grew up in this neighborhood and everybody knows not to approach a car parked under this tree. Besides, Daddy drives rigs long distance and won't be home until Thursday night." Rene swung her right leg over me and rose to position her womanhood over me. She reached down to hold my penis while she lowered her pussy down to my body. "In many ways, Allan," she began as she raised and lowered her body to mine. I pulled back when she rose and thrust up as far as I could when she was squat on me. A heavenly smile adorned her face as she half closed her eyes and continued, "In many ways you're like other men but other ways you are very different." Being nearer to dawn the moonlight painted our white bodies a brighter gray and painted our black pubic mounds less black than before. Her small breasts rippled slightly with each vertical thrust she made. I moved my focus to stare at our joining; my penis shaft would disappear, appear, and disappear again as she repeated her thrusts. Her trim stomach and legs flexed and relaxed and flexed again as she methodically seduced me. "You're different because you did not get mad as we peed all over you. You're a good man," she said with a smile. "Well..." I began to answer but she cut me off. "Let me finish. I can't say that I'm in love with you because it's only been one night," she said. Rene stopped thrusting and let all of her weight rest on me. I felt her even push down on me to gain closer advantage. A serious look came upon her face. "But, I have decided that this is what I want for my life. I want to feel you inside me forever. I want you, Allan, to stay inside of me night and day. Forever. I wish I could keep you here attached to me for the rest of my life." She pushed down harder and I responded by flexing my butt and arching my back muscles. "I want you, always, under any circumstances. Not only are you incredibly handsome and sexy, but you are so kind and loving. You're a good man." She awaited my response with a serious look in her eyes. "Thanks. I don't know what to say. You are very sexy and a terrific lover yourself, Rene. I'll have to give it thought," I stammered, not really knowing how to respond so such a heartfelt declaration. To save myself, I reached up to pull her down to kiss me. Tears, of joy, I guess, seeped down her cheeks. I tasted the salt in her mouth from the tears. In short order she resumed thrusting her love up and down upon me. Caboose "I understand," was all she said. We avoided the obvious subject. Rene varied her thrusts and when she saw my teeth clench and felt the tightened muscles, she sped up her thrust as fast as she could. I seized her firm hips with each hand and thrust as far up as I could. "I want this. I want this, too," I cried. My body froze as I shot my load deep up into her. "You are so powerful. I love you," was my reflex to release. She just smiled a silly smile as I completely relaxed and sank into the car's seat exhausted. I did not move, I could not move, while she briskly put on her shorts and panties and primed herself. The sun's rays began to chase away the darkness. Rene opened the car door to get out and turned to give me a quick kiss before she walked up the road to her house. I raised my body to watch her leave and I yelled out, "Nice ass!" Rene stopped, pulled down the back of her shorts, bent over, and wiggled her butt at me. Then she half turned, air kissed me, and hiked up her shorts and continued to walk home. My body was a wreck but I quickly clothed myself and made my way to the road home. My balls ached and my mouth was as dry as sandpaper. I looked for someplace I could get water. I passed a failed donut shop and found nothing but the convenience store I'd been in earlier with Rene and Cleo. Sugar soda and beer would not satisfy my thirst and dehydration. I reasoned that they might sell the five gallon glass jugs of distilled water but I did not want to spend that much. Why don't they sell bottled water in glass soda bottles? Probably because, I quickly realized, no one would ever pay for water. I spied the service island near the gas pumps, which had the free air and water and drank my fill from the hose. After the sun had well established the day, I reached home in Miami Gardens; with the last of my strength, I showered and flopped into bed. After an hour of deep sleep, the phone jarred me awake; the gruff Hialeah Yard crew clerk told me I'd been relieved. Tyndale's regular flagman had just been discharged from jury duty. Furthermore, my next extra board assignment was the afternoon East Rail job in Hialeah at 4 PM. I was so angry I couldn't sleep. Two months later I was sent back to the same train in West Palm Beach with Tyndale. Without me bringing up the subject, Tyndale eventually confided, "When them bitches heard you weren't here, they left without getting on board. Can you imagine those dumb fucks? And we had all that beer." Early in the 1980's the railroads sold off most of their cabooses. About ten years before he planned to retire, and probably due to untreated hypertension and diabetes, engineer Simon Samuels suffered a severe stroke and never again drove either a freight engine or a car. His world diminished to his front porch in Okeechobee City, where his audience ranged between few and none. Although we were never really friends, I went to visit him once before he passed. Brakeman Charles Sedgwick quit the railroad weeks after that July night and returned to teach high school somewhere. I guess it was just a summer job for him. Fourteen years later and just after his forty-fifth birthday, conductor John Tyndale succumbed to cirrhosis of the liver. From time to time during my first five years with the railroad, I returned to work in West Palm Beach. Sometimes I felt lonely and sometimes I felt horny but I could not bring myself to look up Rene Caruthers or Cleo Watkins. That was over thirty-five years ago. For me, Rene and Cleo never aged, never had children, and never got fat. Did I make the right decision? You tell me. * Author gratefully acknowledges the editing assistance of delicate_yielding.