Charles Richards: The hot swappers

Alice almost was purring as she rose from the fantasy of her orgasm to the higher levels of reality. She had had orgasms before, but they were always self-induced. They were fine then, but nothing, simply nothing, like the one she'd just experienced. What a fantastic trip! She was still experiencing the last vestiges of the intensity of her coming. She could feel her vaginal muscles as they tightened and then relaxed a soft grip on Fernando's softening prick. She hoped that he would get hard again; she could do this all night, and that's just what they had left – all night.

As the train rolled on through the deepening shadows of the afternoon, Alice wondered what some of the other passengers in this car were like, where they were going, and where they came from. It was just a passing thought, but she let it drift back from time to time, to ponder on it.

Beside her, Fernando was finally breathing steadily and evenly once more. He pulled his body away from her and their almost sacred connection was broken. Sitting beside her on the narrow seat, Fernando looked down at Alice, her eyes still closed, a half smile on her lips, and asked, "I wonder what some of the other people traveling with us are like?"

Looking through the dirty window, Marie Olsen smoothed the wrinkles on her tight miniskirt, letting the sensation of her warm hands stroking the tops of her thighs ripple along her skin and gather in the juncture of her crotch. She was horny, horny as hell, and she looked with desire at the stretched-out form of her fifteen year-old son, Robert, as he slumped in the seat across from her. Her eyes traveled over his strong frame, finally coming to rest at the lump of his loins.

" Fuck! " she thought, as the heat started to pulse with insistent regularity in the channel of her vagina. Marie always blamed her French blood when she got feelings like this, but she knew that it was not really the reason for her excessive sensuality. It was just the way she was, hot and ready all the time, a creature of passion. There was a time, during her marriage, when she had tried to fight the feelings that made her seek out any man that would service her when her oafish husband refused her urgent appeals for love. After years of trying to make a marriage work that had no chance from the start, she had given up and run, just as fast and as hard as she could. She was still running. It was the reason she was on a Mexican train heading for a place where she could be free. Free from the responsibilities and cares of being a woman alone. San Mateo was the answer to her problem. Artists, writers, and free thinkers abounded here and she could do her own thing without guilt.

As she thought about the exciting possibilities that a free life would open to her, she felt the tension increase in her tightly clamped crotch. The steady click of the wheels over the rails kept time with the pulsing waves of desire that were throbbing at the core of her being. Marie felt the pressure of her hands resting lightly on her legs. She stretched, letting her long legs flex, tense, and then relax.

Turning away from the window, she looked at her daughter, Suzanne, sitting quietly on the wide seat next to her. At fourteen, Suzanne was just finding herself as a woman, the hot blood of desire flaming up from time to time. Marie knew that Suzanne had already lost her virginity during a near rape by her brother. She smiled inwardly at the close-knit quality of her small family. They did everything together-including fucking.

The desire increased in Marie's system as she looked at her two children. Robert, strong and powerful like his father; and Suzanne, lithe like Marie herself, but with the fullness of body that revealed her Scandinavian heritage.

With an impulsive jerk, Marie rose to her feet, and walked the short length of the small compartment to the washroom. They had only been on the train for a few hours and she was bored already. She was not only bored, but horny, and there was only one thing to do about that.

Pushing the button at the side of the door, Marie rang for the porter, and when the man arrived, dressed in his crisp white jacket, she asked him to make up the beds. The late afternoon light was fast fading into the purple shades of night as the train rolled across the arid desert toward the mountains standing majestically in the distance.

Puffing impatiently on a cigarette, Marie waited until the middle-aged porter had finished his task and had excused himself. They had already been checked by the customs and immigration officials on the train, at the same time as the conductor had taken their tickets so she knew that they could be alone for the rest of the evening, free from any disturbance. Clicking the bolt on the door into place, Marie turned and walked to one of the neatly turned down beds.

Robert and Suzanne were still engrossed in the magazines they had purchased before boarding the train. Idly, with detachment, they turned the slick pages glancing at the pictures. They were as bored as was Marie, but they were doing their best to pass the time and induce enough drowsiness so that they could retire.

Pulling down the green shade that covered the wide window, Marie locked it in place, and then turned to face her two children. "Anything interesting?" she asked, breaking the long silence.

Robert, looking up from the picture pages of the girlie magazine that he had been glancing through, fixed her with his piercingly clear eyes and read the desire there. "hope."

Suzanne replied silently by tossing her book aside and stretching like a cat, a wide yawn spreading across her young face like putty being molded. Her breasts poked out as she lifted her arms over her head.

The movement was not wasted on either Marie or Robert; they both watched as her graceful body uncoiled and went rigid. She blinked her blue eyes and looked at both her brother and her mother. She was bored stiff and was considering possible diversions on a long train ride. It would be nice if she could find a man, she thought, but a nice girl would do as well. To her guiltless mind, any activity which gave her body pleasure couldn't be bad. Her feeling had already been fortified by her forced seduction by her brother almost a year ago, and the freewheeling sexuality of her mother, who made no bones about her desires and how she fulfilled them. The very first time that all three of them had become sexually involved she had been so stoned on pot that nothing really made any difference. Suzanne had been surprised at the fire that had consumed her body when her mother had introduced her to the joys of a sexual experience with another woman. To satisfy her own curiosity, she had read all the books that she could find and decided that she was bisexual. This she accepted readily, and pushed the twinges of guilt from her mind.

"Let's go to bed." Robert said matter-of-factly, as he stood up, and started pulling his light cotton shirt over his head, exposing the hard muscles of his stomach. He had read the look in his mother's eyes and was ready to relieve the boredom of the long trip with a little family orgy. He had it made, and he knew it. He was the nominal head of a household containing two good-looking women who were as sexually free as he was. The problem of incest, he had long ago dispensed with and looked forward to making his incestuous sexual bouts international.

"Are you tired so early?" Marie asked her son with the lilt of friendly teasing in her voice.

“No. Just horny," Robert shot back with a practiced casual tone.

"You could be a little more subtle instead of just standing there with your muscles hanging out and giving orders," Suzanne put in as she folded her magazine and threw it on the little table next to the train's closed window. Actually, she was relieved that the issue had been settled and she could stop worrying about the feelings that were making her crotch itch. Now she could look forward to the relieving of the sexual tension that was mounting steadily in her young body.