0 comments/ 11590 views/ 0 favorites Dressing Room in Car 0615 Ch. 02 By: ProfessorR Copyright 2004, All rights reserved Jack et Marie Continuing a spin-off from the story of Karen and her grandmother's apparently magic ring, as described in other files in Literotica. The California Zephyr slid to a stop in Lincoln, just after 1:00 a.m. In the cold Nebraska night outside the steel Superliner cocoon, University of Nebraska students and hangers-on stumbled out of the Haymarket District bars adjacent to the Amtrak station. Young men and women, clad in assorted red jackets, red sweaters, and/or red Cornhusker baseball caps eyed each other, circled each other, with varying degrees of wariness and interest. Inside the blank stainless walls of Car 0615, the four lovers in the warmth of the small changing room presented a sharp contrast with the bleak scene around their train. Had Hans and Katherine been paying attention, they would have seen Marie's half-closed eyes, concentrating on the sensations, half-watching this wonderful man's head and shoulders as he pleasured her. They would have seen his hands moving over her thighs, steadying her hips as he kissed her, learning to sense her favored places in the tension building beneath his fingertips. They would have seen Marie's hands moving to caress his shoulders, tracing the outlines of his muscles as they moved to please her. "Put your tongue in me," she urged him. Jack had never probed so intimately before, but everything about this seemed right. Her hands were steady on his shoulders, but he felt her excitement in her touch, in her breathing, in the way her perfume pulsed out around him. He slipped into her opening, tasting her, circling it from inside with his pressure. She shuddered momentarily, and Jack began to pull back. "No, it's nothing, it feels so good!" She gently pressed his shoulders, guiding him back to herself. She was sure now that he was relatively inexperienced in pleasing a woman, but she was also sure now that he was ready to learn. Her joy in that sent a surge of electricity through her loins, and he felt it, too. As her need built, her hand slipped from his shoulder to touch her clitoris. With experienced fingers, she took the edge off of her jumpiness in a moment, tingling at the multi-sensations enchanting her. Suddenly he was conscious of what she was doing and he looked up at her. In reassuring whispers she told him that this was just right, that he was doing the perfect thing already. Now, a question darted across his face, and she gave him the answer in a nod, her lips parted in a kissing look. He moved his lips to the tip of her senses. She felt the awaited thrill circling out through herself. His hands seemed to be everywhere, and welcomed everywhere, while his tongue and lips circled her clit. She pictured the strong waves overlapping within her, washing through him. "Jack," she gasped, "it's time for you to come inside!" He rose and stood before her, before embracing her. His staff pressed against her tummy as she leaned against the counter top. This was beautiful and it was awkward. Marie fretted to herself at this moment. The counter was too narrow for her to sit on, Jack was strong and tall, and in this way, a virile, lanky American cowboy was not going to fit her solid French figure! She turned a blushing red all over, which Jack interpreted as passion. Perhaps it was, as the complications defined her need even more strongly. His close kisses in their embrace grew hotter, and she felt his penis flexing, moving about in search of her entrance. His balls felt wonderful slipping over her vulva as he struggled to find the right position, but it seemed to her that this sensation increased the chances of him coming too soon! Worst of all, as her fears began to bubble up like Perrier, she suddenly realized that she had a national reputation to uphold. Across the small room, the lusty Germans were heating up the space. Her purple satin had been the color of French style. She hadn't thought of that before, but now the whole weight of national pride was on her shoulders.... or perhaps, off her shoulders and her hips, crumpled on the blanket. Over Jack's shoulders, she saw the Germans moving fluidly together, Hans' steely skill consumed perfectly by Katherine's fervent desire. And then, from somewhere in her subconscious, a solution emerged. "Sweet Jack," she murmured. Let's try something different." It was a risk, she realized, as he pulled back from her. "You try leaning against this counter, and I will surround you." She carefully avoided telling him that she would be "over" him, as she wondered whether he had ever experienced that situation before, wondered whether he would be willing to take a woman's suggestion. Moving easily, Jack squeezed past her, and leaned back against the counter edge. His face flushed as her eyes took in the length of his figure. His erection pointed straight up as a delightful result of the angle which the counter supported him, and she caught herself licking her lips. "Hey, I thought MEN were supposed to be the visually-stimulated ones," he stage-whispered. They both laughed. His position was perfect to meet Marie's overwhelming need to hold him to herself, to capture this Westerner's energy. She stepped forward, bringing herself around his legs, enjoying their roughness inside her thighs. Without words, they both reached forward, and held hands. His strength steadied her against the motion of the train, but even with his support, she found herself moving in unwanted directions at times. This seemed to have a positive effect on him, as her catlike rebalancing moved her curves in new ways. His eyes were riveted on her, entranced by her purposeful approach. Behind her, Katherine had begun moaning with concentrated passion, but now her cowboy never took his eyes from her. She felt a leap of confidence. Somewhere, the tricolor was flying higher in the sea breeze off the Camargue, horses were splashing in foaming surf, and the sun was a strong ring of fire in the dark blue sky. They were looking into each other's eyes, when her vulva grazed his rolling balls, and the divine shock of their renewed contact sent a jolt through him. Before he could think, he flexed his penis and a stream of softening precum flowed over him. Then she was holding him against herself, firmly within the folds of her triangle first, then gently letting his hardness graze against her clitoris. She moved over him, fascinated with the wonder of something now so hard having the touch of velvet on her most sensitive place. His eyes tracked the ruby flush as it spread from her throat, followed it down her breasts, watched nipples that he thought were already erect harden to strawberry gumdrops as her desire turned to focused lust. His kisses followed as he leaned forward, each breast cherished as he held them cupped in his hands, lovingly teasing the nipples with kisses and then twirling his tongue over them. She should hold this moment forever, she thought. In this position, she anointed herself with his overflowing fluid, and then held his manhood perfectly against herself. Smoothly, they floated through the frothing surf in her mind, barely breaking the surface. "We can't stop here!" she found herself saying in French. "Non!" She exclaimed. Why had she burst out with that? Somehow, even though he spoke no French, Jack knew it was their time, and pulled his pelvis back. His muscled movement took her hand willingly with his hard member, and she found herself holding him at the edge of her opening. Why did those words escape from her? A part of her mind was angry at herself, wanted the elegant work with the perfect tool to continue, but another part of her was guiding actions now. She trembled involuntarily at the touch of his wet tip in her circle, and then she sighed with the satisfaction of feeling him fill each centimeter of her. Like a swimmer pushing off from the edge of the pool, he pushed firmly to her center from the blanketed counter's edge, effortlessly taking powerful strokes in the ripples of their mingled fluids. Her eyes closed, opened, half-closed as the magic overflowed her senses and her body became a part of him. His arms were around her, and in their supportive freedom she was leaning forward, tasting his lips in a deep kiss, unafraid of the Superliner's rocking motion. His upward thrusts grew stronger, and in his strength she was lifted from the floor. It didn't matter. Desperately, she broke their kiss to unleash crazy, urgent whispers in French, whispers which he seemed to comprehend in his passion with his heart, and then with his manhood. His balls tightened under her, and the scent of him suddenly grabbed her. She felt herself going out of control, tightening on him. His precum had stopped, and the friction in her vagina sent them to the edge together. "I must come!" he whispered urgently. Once again a part of her wanted to go on, to make this last, to savor him as a gourmand of love. But the other part of herself heard his statement as a command, and that part of her took it as the permission it craved. The walls of her vagina vibrated to unwritten music, sending his virile form a message written somewhere back in time. They exploded in every direction. Words in both languages tumbled about in their minds. She pictured the part of her that wanted this to go on forever struggling to hold on, then slipping away, replaced by the part of her that exulted in the joy of feeling his white rush founting upward and becoming a part of her. The seafoam swirled again in her imagination. His thrusts subsided, but he remained inside her glowing body yet. Her feet were touching the ground again, she suddenly realized. When had that happened? She could not tell. "Wow!" he said. "You always know the right thing to say," she murmured. There was a little chuckle somewhere in her smiling tone. "That's why I'm on the speech team!" This time, they both laughed out loud. She felt a sense of wonder at the sensation of his laugh entering her, wished now that this moment could last. This man's power, his quick thinking in that tournament, and his love was all a part of her, and she of him. How would that continue beyond this tiny room? "The right thing to say right now is the truth. We are going to have this moment in our minds for the rest of our lives!" Jack seemed to have divined her thoughts again. Behind them, Hans' voice was heard shifting what seemed to be an octave lower. Katherine giggled, and then the giggle folded into a throaty laugh. The bronzed couple's muscles flowed like dancers as they began a new round of lovemaking. "It looks like they'll remember this moment, too!" Marie suddenly found it easy to be with them in this crowded space. Jack's amused glance at the enthusiastic Germans had come quickly back to her. She felt his eyes caressing her as she moved back, and together they watched him slipping out of her, shiny with their fluids. His penis dropped away, still not completely flaccid. It moved as if independently interested in beginning again. Suddenly Marie felt her practical side asserting itself. Hastings would be coming up soon. What if they were still down here, making love! What if their friends met them at the station and they were barely dressed when she and her lover alighted? There would be girlfriends to tease, to hint, to tell in due course, but she did not want to flaunt her cowboy. Jack groped around on the counter and found his watch. "Damn!" he exclaimed. "We'd better get moving." Neither of them, as it turned out, had been paying attention to the clock for a long time. They began struggling with clothing in the cramped room, trying at the same time to keep from stealing peeks at the totally entwined Hans and Katherine. "Wait!" Jack took Marie by the hand. He was clad in his briefs, she was just slipping her panties snug around her waist. She looked up at him questioningly. He embraced her, as he had done when they began, in front of the mirror, one last barely clothed kiss. Yet there was something different about this picture, she realized. Yes, they were glowing, perspiring, and their hair was mussed up. But there was something else. "A woman would notice this, but not a man," she mused aloud. "What's that? You look great in our mirror snapshot," he said. It was the way that they approached each other, she explained to him, not their appearance. His embrace was confident, but relaxed. Hers was open, but also strong. They knew each other. They held each other for too long, her purple-clad loins against his white cotton. When they finally separated, she could see that he would have been ready for her again, and she felt herself warming for him. Time and social pressure bore down on them, however. He gave her breast a playful kiss, and then reached behind himself on the counter for her bra. They helped each other finish dressing, and then prepared to slip out of the room. "Wait!" cried out Hans. They halted momentarily. "This wasn't bad at all!" he grinned. A big, infectious grin. Katherine turned on his lap, twisting her trunk to look their way. She had a smile on her tanned face, too. Her white teeth sparkled in the contrast. Her chest and throat were slightly reddish from Hans' beard. "Perhaps we'll meet again..." Katherine said that, hoping at the same time that it would not happen. She had her Hans now, and had no plans to share him. He felt her muscles closing around him. On the other hand, the American was not bad looking, she mused. Jack and Marie blew the intertwined couple kisses, and quickly stepped out the door. The cool air in the vestibule attacked their senses. Around them, the stainless steel environment rang with the muffled noises of railbound motion. Marie thought for a moment that over all that, she heard an excited squeal from Katherine, but perhaps her imagination had just filled in that part. They headed upstairs to collect their things. "Hastings, next!" The conductor quietly called this out to them; they alone in the rows of sleeping figures in this coach were ticketed to depart this train in the dead of this night. Jack and Marie felt his friendly grin behind their back as they climbed out into the blowing snow. A group of their friends were at the station to meet them, headlights cutting through the slanting waves of windblown white stuff. "How was the trip?" a young woman asked. Jack and Marie looked at each other. "It was indescribable," Jack murmured. "You always know the right thing to say!" Marie whispered. The parallel story of Hans und Katherine approaches a climax in a third file next in Literotica. With deep acknowledgement to Amtrak employees who suggested elements of this account, and to Dr. E________ __________ who kindly tested Marie's position herself. A basic element of good science is to be able to demonstrate that an exciting new experiment can be repeated, and my colleague E________ is a good -- scientist. Her lay assistant should be credited for his patience, as well. Dressing Room in Car 0615 Ch. 03 Chatper 3: Hans und Katherine Continuing a spin-off from the story of Karen and her grandmother's apparently magic ring, as described in other files in Literotica. * * * * * Hans nearly jumped as Katherine's fingers, even ever so gently, touched his balls. The excitement with Karen at dinner in the dining car (see the third part of "California Zephyr" in Literotica) had built on all the random impulses that his libido had been accumulating on this long ride. And then Katherine's magical appearance and his discovery of her new-to-him maturity had built more pressure. The time in the vestibule, at the open window-- the lonely farmhouses flashing past, the thundering power of a passing freight, the force of the prairie wind-- it was a strange environment that had drawn them ever closer together! Perhaps she had not noticed, but he had walked to the changing room like a cowboy. That was not because of the rocking of the train, it was because he was so full, so ready for the release to which she now led him. When his legs were pressed together, he ached, like a man who had come off of months on the open range. He was in a most amazing moment. The absurdity of it almost made him laugh with joy. A beautiful Frenchwoman in sleek satin lingerie was looking squarely at him, knowingly, her tongue darting briefly over her lips before she caught herself. And what she saw was a glimpse of Hans' staff straightening steel hard, readying him for the approaching pleasure brought by the lips and the fingertips of his Zehlendorf neighbor, Katherine! The room was quickly warm from the four lusty young people's presence. Hans wondered if the fact that the air was awash with their pheromones was adding to the experience-- or perhaps it was the cunningly selected French perfume from Marie. As her body warmed in preparation for Jack, her pounding pulse released the precious scent. Katherine's touch riveted his wandering eyes back to her. She held his stiffening sacs in her strong hands, and kissed them. The restrained power in her tender hold on him sent a deep feeling of pleasure through his core, and he shifted noticeably on the tiny bench. "Mmmmm. You like that?" Katherine's question sounded more like an answer as she paused to look up at him. His penis curved up above her, and her hair brushed against him as she turned her head upwards. Grazing strands teased his senses, and involuntarily, he flexed. A pool of silver formed on his tip, and then began to run down toward Katherine. Without hesitation, her lips moved up his shaft to meet it. Hans felt every nerve on edge. She certainly must have been practicing this somewhere before, he told himself! "Yes, yes," he murmured to her. "Go ahead. Your tongue is so lovely." Katherine gloried in this moment of perfect sensuality. Hans, who had always seemed so much in control, was about to lose himself at her command. Excitement built deep in her as she realized that he was desperate for her kisses. The taste of him completed the sensory image that had begun so long ago in the gardens of their homes. Eagerly, her tongue traveled to the source of this flowing spring. Hans sighed, and then leaned over. Katherine felt a rush of pleasure as he whispered to her. "Now, I remember the time when you were 16 and were eating that banana. I thought that I was imagining things!" His mind filled with the warm sensation of that summer: she was wearing a blue sundress, standing there by the flower bed. He told her how he remembered watching her watching him through the garden gate as she slowly, seductively peeled the yellow fruit, ran her tongue over its big curve, and then ate pieces of the ripe fruit pulled off with her lips. He had not given this thought again, had dismissed it as an improbable guess on his part, till now. Suddenly the picture was complete! So, she realized, the only conflict between them had been their own ideas about the importance of the age difference between them. And now the passage of time had made that unimportant. For a moment, Katherine thought of rising to kiss Hans on the lips. She wanted to have her jeans and her panties off NOW, for him to see all of her. In their haste, she was still partly clothed. She wanted now to look him in the eye as an equal, but at the same time, she reveled in the foreplay she was offering. His single-minded concentration on her was worth anything, and she discovered joy in exploring this strong man's tenderness. It might not have seemed possible, but Hans felt his erection tightening, tightening. He wanted to draw her pants down those wonderful legs, he longed to penetrate Katherine, to explore this overlooked treasure. He wanted to invite her to his lap, to be the skillful lover. But he could not wait. Words tumbled around in his head, English, German, some French, but only a deep groan of pleasure came out as she licked the swollen head of his manhood. She captured it, sucking him into the warmth of her, gently touching the tender underside with her teeth. Words vanished, and flooded with his hormones, Hans became in his mind a giant arrow, pointing upwards. Part of him struggled to hold back, but her tender ministrations left him no alternative. The muscles trained to maintain control now betrayed him-- relaxed momentarily in her soothing attention-- and when his clenching force returned it had the opposite effect of what he intended. She felt the electric surge passing through her lover, exploding, as his legs closing tightly around her, his firm hands closing on her shoulders, his penis swelling within her lips, the wave of semen rushing toward her. She had not thought this out completely, had never taken a man past foreplay in this manner, and she found herself coughing and clearing her throat when the strong stream of white fluid rushed into her mouth. In combination with the motion of the train, she almost lost her balance from the surprise, but Hans steadied her. Tenderly, his hands stroked her neck. She looked up at him and saw the concern in his eyes. "Mmmmmmm. Hans, the banana never did that!" she joked, and the momentary tension faded. She returned to his shiny penis, again encircling it, sucking it, taking a taste of him. She would remember that moment, his unique flavor, forever. Even in the inviting coziness of her lips, even with the clever joys offered by her probing tongue, Hans' erection began to fade. Tentatively at first, as if not sure, it relaxed, and then it was gone. Katherine let him graze past her lips, and he dropped away. Slowly, she rose before him, within his outspread legs. Off to her left, she became aware of urgent whispers in French, whispers which, though she did not know that language, still spoke of attraction, and then of a sensuous woman going out of control around the hard rock of her lover's excitement. This was not exactly how she had imagined it. On those lonely nights at home behind the frilly curtains in her bedroom, the virile Hans had come to her in dreams, caressing her, cuddling her. Then she had stretched out catlike before him, and she had watched the muscles in his loins and thighs ripple as he came over her. Most of all, she had imagined the point of his pride brought to insistent readiness by her kisses. Now she stood before him, her own hot desire unquenched. Her vagina dripped from the intensity of her feeling, moistening her panties uncomfortably. Hans caught the flash of worry as it played across her face, and took her hands in his. For what seemed like a long time, he looked into her luminous eyes. His eyes wanted to glide over her ripe breasts, wanted to round the curves of her hips between his legs, wanted to glance at her secret triangle. But he concentrated on her eyes, and she felt his deep interest in her, that he understood her need. "Katherine, I want to see all of you." He motioned toward her jeans. She knew that the feminine glory of her body was an instant object of men's desires; she had liked that feeling at the FKK club at Cap d'Agde just last summer. When she had stepped out onto the French beach, the reactions of the other supposedly blase' nudists told her that she was special. Men had clamored foolishly to be the one that she would choose. They all wanted her to join them in the special place at the end of the beach. But now, Hans, her dream Hans, would know that she was special. Gracefully, she managed to slip out of the tight-fitting pants. His hands caught her waist, held her for a moment against the sway of the Superliner, and then stretched her panties down over her hips. Her golden triangle emerged, riveting his eyes to her. He leaned forward and kissed her belly. Hans saw no tan lines. Her hair was set off against a brown that did not stop. On the other hand, he realized, she had taken care of her skin, and it was smooth and supple. The tiniest movements of her muscles showed as delicate ripples. "Here, sit on my lap for a minute," Hans invited. Nothing else to do, and wanting to maintain the intimacy for a few more minutes-- Katherine stepped out from between his legs and did as he asked, draping herself over him. She was uncomfortable, feeling strange and uncertain. But now, the confidence in his voice carried her over that. "Take me in your hand," he told her, "and caress yourself with me here." He indicated her vulva. Awkwardly, as he showed her, she took his reticent manhood in her hand. Her fingertips touched his balls, which lolled lazily, ignoring the sensation that would have sent an electric charge through them minutes before. He saw that she was puzzled, and he leaned to whisper in her ear. "Just humor me, I love the feeling of touching you in this way." The tone was self-teasing, but also assured. In his arms, with his lips now visiting hers, enjoying more the intimacy with him than any conscious thought of having him sexually, she almost absent-mindedly touched his moist penis to her still yearning tender folds. His last pulling back had squeezed out a clear string of his honeyed fluid, and as she touched his velvet head to herself, it unwound within her. They both felt a renewed wave of feminine heat poured out from her inner source. Even in its relaxed state, his sensitive tip delighted in the tour of Katherine's folds. She found the new sensation pleasant, caught herself wondering where he had learned to do this, and supposed that he had learned this approach in his travels. Hans loved both the immediate feeling and the thought of what was to come. He leaned forward, whispering in her ear, taking her attention away from what her hand held. He was speaking in German, and quietly she told him how wonderful those familiar sounds felt after so many days in this foreign country. The whole trip now seemed dreamlike, and it had brought her here, into this tiny room, into his steady embrace. She let the intimate words in her mother tongue slide over her, catching enough of them against the rumble of the Superliner to realize that Hans was telling her about herself. He was remembering far more of their days in the tree-shaded streets of Zehlendorf than she had supposed he could. She felt the bond between them growing stronger as each whisper reached her. The thrill of finding out his secrets, how much he knew of her, drew her attention ever more strongly. His confidence in his sexuality was exciting, too. How had this happened? He knew so much about pleasuring her-- was that good or bad? And if it was bad, why did it feel so good? Dreamily, she began to tease herself with Hans' organ, and in her focus on his words, on his eyes, on his arms surrounding her, she did not even notice that it no longer was the pliable tool that had been so easily guided. In her whispered reply, she told him of writing his name over and over again on school notepaper, remembering how she had taken colored pens and expanded on it with ever-bolder hearts and flowers, till the page could take no more. Hans felt his balls end their lazy relaxation; they tightened with renewed seriousness. Katherine's hand was drawn away from them by his upswinging penis. She began to have difficulty in manipulating it. Without a word, as she raptly listened to his whispers, she let it glide upward in her hand. It slipped between her suddenly trembling fingers. She leaned forward slightly, placing a hand on his shoulder while the other held his manhood in the center of her warmth. She felt herself reaching out to him from within, and she began to move gently against him, taking the train's rocking motion one step further. The contact was perfect, as he grazed her lips and her now-taut clitoris. Her hands steadied as she held him in her warmth. Somehow the irresistibly contrary demands of love and sex caught up with her again. It felt so wonderful this way, her love would have the moment go on forever. And yet it felt necessary, his penis was so tall now, that she had to follow it all the way up. And now it fit so smoothly at the edge..... he felt the ring of her cervix opening around his engorged head...... "Immer richtig!" he sighed aloud, ending his whispers. As she suddenly came out of the trancelike swirl of his words and their memories, she realized what had happened. A tremendous surge of joy swept through her. She looked at him for a moment, all of him, this handsome man absolutely ready for her now, and then came down around him. "I'm going to keep my eyes open," Hans asserted. "I promise that I will fill my mind with only you." His voice shifted what seemed to be an octave lower as he spoke the last words. Katherine giggled, and then the giggle folded into a throaty laugh, which Hans felt deep within himself. The bronzed couple's muscles flowed as if they were dancers; a new round of lovemaking began. She had not understood at first what he meant about keeping his eyes open, but as they moved together, she began to realize how wonderful it was. His eyes were at once like another pair of hands caressing her, and yet also she felt more. Hans was looking into her soul. She felt his eyes following the flush of her neck, she saw them drinking in the beauty of her full bosom, his eyes followed her curves to the strongly-outhrust nipples that she grazed against his chest. His eyes traveled down her stomach, watching the muscles flexing as she caressed him within herself. His eyes rested on their lovely junction, watching as she took him in, watching as their hairs together tangled in intricate curls. That was understandable, enjoyable, and it would have stirred her lust without more help. But beyond that, his eyes rose to meet hers. Their blue seemed to pierce her as he held them open while they kissed. She blushed more strongly than ever as she realized that it was so difficult to kiss him with her eyes open. They were seeing every tingle of their passion played out, and she saw that he was loving each movement that she made. Out of the corner of her eye, she realized that Jack and Marie were grabbing for their clothing. Totally intertwined with Hans, she looked questioningly into his eyes. "We should be polite and say good-bye to them," Hans said in German. Then in English, "the sooner they go, the sooner we come!" They laughed together-- she found that their interlinked laughter gave a sensation she had never experienced before. As Hans and Katherine watched, Jack embraced Marie as he had done when they began, in front of the mirror, one last barely clothed kiss. Yet there was something different about this picture, Katherine realized. Yes, the odd pair in "their" room were glowing, perspiring, and their hair was mussed up. But there was something else. It was the way that they approached each other, Katherine whispered to Hans. Jack's embrace was confident, but relaxed. Marie's was open, but also strong. They knew each other. They held each other for too long, Hans thought, the Frenchwoman's purple-clad loins against the cowboy's white cotton. When they finally separated, Hans and Katherine could see that the American would have taken her again had time allowed. Jack gave Marie's breast a playful kiss, and then reached behind himself on the counter for her bra. They helped each other finish dressing, and then prepared to slip out of the room. "Wait!" cried out Hans. They halted momentarily. "This wasn't bad at all!" he grinned. A big, infectious grin. Katherine turned on his lap, twisting her trunk to look their way. She had a smile on her tanned face, too. Her white teeth sparkled in the contrast. Her breasts and throat were slightly reddish from Hans' beard. "Perhaps we'll meet again..." Katherine said that, hoping at the same time that it would not happen. She had her Hans now, and had no plans to share him. He felt her muscles closing around him. On the other hand, she admitted to herself, the American was not bad looking. Jack and Marie blew the intertwined couple kisses, and quickly stepped out the door. Marie's perfect perfume trailed past Katherine like a flaunted battle flag, and Katherine felt again that Marie had thought that she was in command of the scene. The cool air in the vestibule drew the heat out of the dressing room, taking the scent of France with it, and Katherine shivered. It didn't matter-- she had Hans. Leaning way back, she reached the latch and re-clicked it shut. Hans' eyes drank in her limber stretch, as graceful as in a ballet. In the snowy night, a trackside observer saw only the stainless steel flash of the California Zephyr's powerful engines slamming through a snowdrift east of Holdredge, Nebraska. * * * * * The story of Hans und Katherine comes to a climax in a fourth file in Literotica. My special thanks to HSX members Alexandra on German matters, Janet on French issues and to the helpful hints from die Kuschelecke. Dressing Room in Car 0615 Ch. 04 Copyright 2004, All rights reserved Hans und Katherine Continuing a spin-off from the story of Karen and her grandmother's apparently magic ring, as described in the files in Literotica. Katherine leaned back toward Hans, and he held her to his chest; they embraced with renewed passion. Now she felt his rugged strength within her. He moved effortlessly through her in their mingled fluid, slipping in to touch her deepest place, then gliding out. She caught his rhythm and began to roll her hips over him at his pace. Attentive, aware, he felt her excitement building, and imperceptibly he let her take the lead. Her energy flowed around him-- came forward to him as she touched her hardened nipples to him, came to his lips in her hungry kisses. Then she leaned back in his arms, rocking with the motion of the train, eyeing him with what seemed to him to be a mixture of wonder and lust. Her movements changed his contact with her in ways that brought new sensations to both of them. They reveled in their new discoveries. Katherine leaned back again and again, and each time caught her reflection mirrored an infinity of times on the side wall mirrors. She felt a burst of enjoyment in what she half-saw, her body rippling rhythmically, moving with Hans. She drew pleasure from seeing the intimate celebration of their love, and felt the energy within herself spiraling into space. Now it was more difficult for him to keep his eyes open and fixed on her. His body demanded that he concentrate on being inside her, insisted that he focus on the fluttering pulses that now cajoled him, caressed him, entreated him. The energy within her became the source of a low moan, soft at first, then growing in its intensity. Through half-open eyes, he saw her own eyes closing, her pink nipples straining forward for more kisses, her muscles rippling in now naked power as she forced the hard proudness of her clitoris forward to match each of his thrusts. He tried to remember the lessons that he had studied, had practiced, using his strength to hold back as her voice rose, but now her moan was interrupted by her words-- urgent words. "Hans...." she struggled to get the words out. "Yes...... now..... Now!" He responded with a whisper in her ear, he thought, but actually it must have been rather loud. She felt his "yes" go through her, resonating in her as the spiral continued, her deep breaths cutting into her moan. Joyfully, he pushed to her center, held himself there, felt the absolute need encircling him, and then let himself go-- abandoned himself to her. He visualized the stream, this time purely prepared for her, welling up within him. It was a good feeling. She sensed it coming, visualized its rush up his shaft, and held him tightly as it flooded deep into her. Her moan broke into a musically pitched note of ecstasy. He continued to move within her, now so easily, taking the trailing sensations from her. Snug he was within her, and she held him for as long as she could, discovering the lingering sweetness of milking him, taking every drop of fluid offered. His eyes were open again, and he was again looking at each part of her with loving curiousity. She blushed. An observer might not have noticed that on her glowing skin, but Hans felt the renewed sweep of warmth over her face and down her chest. He smiled and teased her gently about her sudden shyness. Suddenly she realized that this position was a little awkward, and that it must be tiring for Hans, too. How had they been able to do this? She grinned at the thought, and when he asked why, they both laughed when she told him what had occurred to her. Carefully, steadied by Hans against the sway of the railway car, she swung herself off of him. As Jack and Marie had before them, they found themselves helping each other to find their clothes. They too found that just one last kiss at each step of the way only led to the need for more kisses. They grinned foolishly at each other, took chances to tickle each other, and then embraced for a very long time. A rasping noise brought them back to reality. Someone was trying the latch. They heard a voice outside, disappointed to find the room occupied. "I thought I got up early enough....." the voice trailed off as it headed for another room. Hans found his watch. It was already 5:00 a.m., in Central Time. Somehow most of the night had gone. Hans wondered if they were even in the Central Time zone any longer. He teased her about this as she pulled on her jeans, enjoying the way that she stopped mid-tug to theatrically sigh when he pointed out that she was so lovely that she had caused him to lose track of both time and space. He had no idea where their train was by now. Half-in and half-out of her clothing, she stood in his embrace, taking the impression of him in her relaxed body, whispering that she would always have this moment in her memories. A tiny tear crossed her cheek, a tear of happiness. He brushed it gently away. A few moments later, and they were back at her seat in the upper level rows. Sleeping passengers sprawled in every direction, but fortunately her seatmate had alighted at Holdredge in the Nebraska night. Hans moved his things to join her. For a while they drowsed together, finding that each was stealing love-looks at the other through sleep-hunted eyes, and then they were hard asleep. The conductor walked silently by them in the darkened aisle, and stopped abruptly to check their seating (Hans had forgotten to move his "hat check" boarding pass). Looking closer, the train's "captain" recognized them as the couple from the vestibule. Walking back to Hans' former seat, he plucked the boarding pass from its clip, and placed it over the sleeping lovers. He looked at them again for a moment, and then his radio squawked in his earpiece. A circuit breaker was popping out up ahead in the crew dorm. The head-end trainman wondered if he knew what to do about it. He moved on from the mysterious to the mundane. In the morning, the train was rolling through the short-grass prairie near Fort Morgan. Eventually, someone in the coaches noticed that the clouds on the horizon had become the snowcapped Front Range. Eyes strained westward, and a mood of anticipation swept the train. Crowds lined up for breakfast in the diner. The sleepy couple from Berlin-Zehlendorf struggled into wakefulness. Two pairs of city-trained eyes swept across the prairie vastness, struggling to find a point of reference in the rolling panorama that could catch their attention. An American businessman returning from a conference in Lincoln told them that they had slept through a land settled by a large number of people with German ancestry. They had trouble believing that. This did not look like a home for the people that they knew. Hans and Katherine looked at each other with knowing smiles... knowing that they had not slept through that land, they had certainly been awake! The struggles of their pioneer relatives had not been the struggles most on their mind. What interested them and many others on this train was that ahead lay a chain of tunnels strung on the necklace of the Moffat Tunnel rail line, draped over the Front Range. Left behind in the night, Lincoln and Omaha were blurry memories even for the passengers who had not been as preoccupied as the lovers. They chatted slowly with this man who was trying to be helpful. Slowly so that they could follow his information, and slowly because every muscle in their bodies called for more sleep! Then they drowsed some more, on into Denver. The conductor announced the lengthy servicing stop, and many other passengers who were heading through the Mile High City grabbed their coats or sweaters and headed for the thin outdoor air. Hans and Katherine drowsed yet more, their bodies comfortably draped over each other. Beautiful images of circles revolved in Katherine's dreams. They seemed to tumble over each other, linked onward into infinity, coming out of somewhere ancient. In her dream, she tried to make sense of them, but found her mind deliciously unfocused. Hans was somewhere there, and the French couple, and others not well-defined. One of them was tugging at her.... "Katherine! Wake up!" Hans was grinning as he gently touched her elbow to awaken her. "I want you to meet someone!" he insisted. With blinking eyes, she focused on an older couple standing in front of them in the aisle of the otherwise empty coach. Then she remembered-- these were two of the people who Hans was with last night in the dining car. Karen and Cam had come through the coach on the way from their sleeper up to the glass-top lounge car, after saying goodbye to their new friends [Richard W. and Sophia] in the station. "If you guys get a move-on, you can join us up there for the mountain scenery. It's hard to get a seat in the lounge unless you go now," Cam emphasized. Karen nodded agreement, as she looked down somewhat tenderly at the couple. She found herself fingering the ring that her grandmother had given her, wondering again whether its seemingly magic power had anything to do with this couple's obvious bliss. She realized that she was concentrating on the thought of them joining Cam and herself in the lounge. She wanted to hear their stories. Somehow hunger was uppermost in Hans' and Katherine's minds now. They could get food in the lounge car... at least a pastry and some coffee. "Yes. We will come!" Katherine found herself saying. Not long afterward, they found themselves seated in the lounge alongside Karen and Cam. Something about the train made them feel that they were old friends. They shared information about what on-liners would call their "real" life off the train. Cam was a jewelry firm executive. Karen worked in an office of some sort in San Francisco... the "City" she kept calling it. Hans and Katherine told about their now mutual plans for skiing and fun in Winter Park, the next stop. The long, silver snake of the California Zephyr circled upward slowly into the mountains. The conversation of the two couples drifted gently from topic to topic. It was all so perfectly relaxing, but Katherine realized something. Hans continually avoided answering any question which would lead to revealing what his job was. She remembered that he had been going to law school. But now what was he doing? Was there a dark secret that he was hiding? He had said things that made it sound as if he was a student, and then things that referred to his work. She had shared herself so completely with him... he had seemed so open. She had to know, she had to know now! The conversation drifted into silence for a moment-- flashed into life again as a deer darted past the train-- and then silence again. Katherine felt so complete with Hans, so complete for now except for the answer to one question. "I have a question for you, Hans," she stated, looking him directly in the eyes. She felt braver with him now than she ever had in their younger days. Perhaps it was just being a bit older, and perhaps it was their new intimacy. Cam did not notice the tone in her voice, but Karen did. She found herself fingering her ring anxiously, sympathizing with Katherine's desire for an answer that brought down barriers. "What is your profession now?" Katherine asked in German. Hans blushed. For a moment, it looked as though he would evade answering, and then he approached the question directly. "I am a law clerk," he replied, and then lowered his head sheepishly. "I work in the Bavarian State Prosecutor's office." Katherine drew in her breath. The wheels were turning in Karen's head, too. Cam looked to each. "Is there something I'm missing here?" he queried. Involvement in his business dealings had kept him away from the news. "And what projects do you work on in that office?" Karen asked. A broad smile was growing across her face. Katherine said nothing-- she was thinking about all of the events of the night past. "It's my responsibility to review the material in on-line services, looking for pornography." Hans resorted to the bureaucratic formulation to get the words out. His face showed a combination of his desire to laugh out loud and to duck under a seat. Katherine felt the same mixture of thrill and concern that she had first felt when she recognized his sexual skill, except it was in a kind of reverse mode now- concern and then thrill. And the dark secret that she had begun to suspect turned out to be just the sort of silly task at work given to the newest staff member. She could easily imagine the older lawyers chortling as they assigned the young bachelor to spend his hours slaving away at a computer terminal, reading about other people having sex. "So your knowledge doesn't come from countless experiences, eh?" Katherine grinned. Hans shuffled his feet. "Not necessarily." He blushed again, glancing at Karen and Cam. "But it's good to put it into practice now and then!" "Gee, that's how I used to feel some days in the diamond business," Cam laughed. "I started as a salesman, and I'd spend all day working with couples who were just engaged, or guys buying diamonds for the girlfriends standing there with them. I'd go out of the store at the end of the day really pumped up!" Hans admitted that this was exactly how he felt after a long day of looking for something sexy that was legally actionable. His bosses were not after the obviously evil-- they wanted something splashy and easy to get at. Karen closed the topic by pointing out that that the Zephyr's cars would be sealed up against the fumes in the long Moffat Tunnel. Hans and Katherine would best get back to their car before it was closed off, as the train's emergence on the other side of the tunnel would quickly bring them to their stop. Farewells were said, invitations to visit were extended, and more hugs were given than in an HSX (Human Sexuality Forum) conference. Katherine and Hans walked down the aisle of the glass-topped lounge as another short tunnel closed in on them. Hans turned back for a last wave, and saw Karen and Cam watching their passage through the doorway and out of the car. Karen held up her hand with the ring, touching it to bring Hans' attention to it. He smiled in acknowledgement, pausing to sense the surge of power through his body as it focused down to renew his manhood. Then he turned to follow Katherine's athletic figure through the aisles and corridors of the Superliner. He alone saw the jolt as she received a parting shot of the ring's power, and it was easy now to imagine the warm fire rebuilding deep within her. It was enjoyable, too, watching the turning faces in the coaches, as men enjoyed and women interpreted the beauty of this couple. She would be a good skier, he thought, and there would be many nights in Winter Park ahead. Somehow Karen and her ring had brought them together, but now they would make their own magic in the time ahead.