Sex On A Train

By | May 5, 2008

You can read Part 1 and Part 2 here. Or if you’d prefer to watch a video of Suze playing with Jenna Jameson’s boobs, click here :).

Miss Clifford’s eyelids fluttered open. Her retinas were seared by the bright fluorescent light filling the room around her. She shut her eyes again. She became aware of a sharp pain across her temples, distant at first, but becoming more acute as she returned to full consciousness.

A shadow passed across her closed eyelids. She risked a peek and found herself looking into the face of a man. Her eyes were now wide with horror. She lay on a concrete floor, her hands and feet were bound with strips of fabric.

What was he going to do to her? Attack her? Rape her?

He did the one thing that she expected least of him. He spoke.

“Good evening … “, he raised her ID card and read from it, ” … Miss Mary Clifford. Very pleased to meet you.” Then he smiled, a warm friendly smile. “I’m Richard …”

This was too much for Mary, her vision clouded and she slipped back into unconsciousness. The last thing she heard before the blackness took her was Richard speaking to an unseen assistant, “Oh for heaven’s sake Tim, she’s a bloody fainter.”


Penelope’s presidential train sped towards London, carrying her and her retinue. It was four in the morning and she was trying to set herself up for what was going to be a fraught day with coffee and a full English breakfast. Mel and Jen sat across from her, holding hands.

Her mood was lifted by the discovery that Mel had recruited a new waitress for the train. She was in her mid thirties by the look of her, just over five feet tall with chestnut brown hair. The light blue blouse and navy skirt that all the waitresses on the train wore suited her particularly well. As she bent over to place Penelope’s tray in front of her the outline of one of her suspenders became visible on her hip through the skirt’s fabric.

Penelope’s eye followed her around the carriage as she laid out three breakfasts. Placing the toast rack in front of Penelope the waitress’s blouse opened slightly to reveal a powder blue bra cupping a delicious pair of breasts.

“Well done Mel.” Said Penelope after the waitress had left the carriage. “I’ll thank you later.”

The President stood and with ill-disguised haste followed the waitress. “Her name’s Sarah!”, called Mel before turning to Jen and sliding her hand up Jen’s skirt.

Two cars later, Penelope saw Sarah’s back as she headed into the kitchen compartment with the empty tray. She stopped and waited for Sarah to reappear. “Sarah”, she called sounding professionally nonchalant.

“Yes, Madame President”, replied Sarah, performing a verbal courtesy. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, just perfect, Sarah, absolutely perfect.” Penelope’s eyes alighted on Sarah’s perfect bosom. “Have you a moment?”

“Of course Madame Presi…”

“Penelope, please.” Said Penelope opening the door to the linen storage compartment. “Would you be so kind as to get me a pillow, I need to cat nap before we reach London.”

Sarah entered the compartment followed by Penelope. She reached up to the top locker to extract one of the pillows stored in it.

Penelope’s hands slid around her from behind and cupped her breasts. Sarah startled, gasped. “You have beautiful breasts.” Whispered Penelope in Sarah’s ear. Sarah felt the President’s hot breath on her cheek and teeth gently bite the helix of her ear.

Sarah shuddered with excitement when she felt Penelope’s lips kiss her neck. “Take off your blouse.”, it was not the command of a head of state but a demand from a lover to-be. Sarah’s hands dropped and hastily unbuttoned her blouse. She turned to face Penelope.

Penelope slid the garment from Sarah’s shoulders and slid her bra straps down Sarah’s arms. Sarah’s deliciously ripe breasts were topped with invitingly erect nipples. Penelope leant forward and took one in her mouth, rolling it round with her tongue before sucking the firm swollen tip in and squeezing it with her teeth.

Penelope fell to her knees. One hand slid round to grasp Sarah’s buttock, the other traced it’s way up the inside of Sarah’s stocking clad leg to rub the dampening satin panties at the apex of her thighs.

Sarah moaned, alive with the thrill of the moment. The door to the corridor was open, discovery was almost inevitable. The President, the most powerful woman in the country was sucking at her nipple like a slut and massaging her mound through wet silk. Sarah’s clitoris was alive to every movement of Penelope’s hand, tingling, on fire.

Penelope was indulging her favourite hobby, abusing her position for sexual favours. Hell, she deserved it didn’t she? And with the day she had ahead a little stress relief would ensure the country had a more relaxed President, better able to make dispassionate decisions. Her underwear was soaked with the thrill of caressing this little beauty that Mel had found for her. She’d need to change before she addressed the emergency committee, Jen should have packed some. Or maybe she would just go without …

Penelope’s devilish daydreaming was interrupted by the realisation that Sarah was cumming. The crotch of her panties was almost dripping wet, her body quaked from the expertly applied thumb on her clitoris. Sarah moaned a shuddering fit of an orgasm and slid down the linen lockers to the floor.

Penelope kissed her with soft, full lips, then got up to leave. “Make sure you’re on duty when I get back. You have a favour to return.”


Mary’s back felt like it had fused into a solid lump of knotted muscles. The cold of the concrete floor had seeped into her despite the blanket that Tim and Richard had wrapped her in. Her hands and feet were now free of their cloth bonds.

Tim, who had been watching Mary for two hours while the effects of the tranquilliser fully wore off, shouted “Rich, she’s awake”. Mary lay still, despite the pain in her back.

A few minutes later Richard appeared. “Tea?” he said proffering a chipped white mug.

Mary gingerly manoeuvred herself to a sitting position. “Thank you” she ventured.

“You’re welcome”, beamed Richard.

“But you’re, you’re, well men!” exclaimed Mary.

“And we haven’t attacked you, raped you, eaten you alive. What else are they teaching the kids up there these days?” said Richard. “Mary, I can call you Mary can’t I? Good. Mary the one and only contact you’ve had with a man is when you joined the Sisters of Lemnos, right?”

She nodded, clutching her mug of tea for comfort.

“So the man you encountered was feral, uneducated and probably smelt quite bad too. On top of that you’ve spent your whole life being indoctrinated with The Great Rebekah’s teachings too. So men are, to put it bluntly, evil.”

Mary was staring a Richard now. She had just noticed he didn’t have a beard and that his grey eyes were kind and seemed to twinkle when he looked at her. Then there was that slight bulge in his trousers …

“Newsflash Mary. Not all men are like that.” Richard nodded to Tim, who left the room closing the door. Richard then sat, cross-legged on the floor in front of Mary.

Mary flinched when he touched her gently on the arm. But relaxed when his deep soft voice began to lull her. He smelt of Palmolive soap she noticed.

“Shall I give you a short history lesson?” asked Richard. “Oh!”. Mary had placed her hand on his knee. “Now that I didn’t expect.”

“What did you expect?” asked Mary.

“The women we take either cower, get indignant, or scream. It’s usually weeks before they start to adjust to their new lives.”

“We’d heard rumours, you know, up there.” She gesticulated towards the ceiling. “About men living in the old tunnels, everyone thinks you’re just escapees from the reserves. But you can speak and you’re, well for want of a better word huwoman.”

Richard chuckled, “The word is human.”

His chuckling stopped as Mary’s hand grasped his cock through his jeans. “I want you to do it to me. Like my first man did.”

Mary was at first disappointed when he reached out and tenderly stroked her cheek with his hand. She wanted to be taken roughly by a man-animal as she had been when she was 18.

Mary had dreamt about it on countless occasion since that night. He had circled round behind her during the hunt and forced her to the ground. She could have cried out, the wardens would have been there and subdued him, but that was not what she wanted. She lay there while the man had taken her virginity, loving every moment, surrendering her body to the beast. Despite his wildness the man had been gentle with her afterwards, spooning with her his penis softening inside her, his strong arms around her, his musk in her nostrils.

There was no malice in his actions, just instinct. Her defloration had not been scene of subjugation or an exercise of his power over her, it had been an expression of pure instinct on his part.

They had both drifted off to sleep together on the carpet of leaves that cover the forest floor. She had felt awful when the ranger had arrived, woken them and chased off the man with a cattle prod.

As Richard moved forward and wrapped his arms around her in a brotherly embrace she realised that this was a different kind of man to the one she had known and the others she had learned about. What she realised was that she needed a man and this one smelled better than the last one she had encountered.

Her lips turned upward to meet his and found his and found the kiss returned with a strength that sent a rush of hormones coursing through her body. Their tongues collided and Mary knew her second would be far better than her first.