On The Train Ch. 05

As requested, Samantha and Alex are back for more. I hope you enjoy it.

On a more personal note, my calculations indicate that somewhere in this story, I will pass the "one million word" mark, for stories on Lit.

Funny how time flies... and words, too... when you're having fun ;-)

Thanks for reading.

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It was Tuesday, the day after Sam's daughters went back to their respective homes, and I was on the train as it came to Sam's stop. I had gone home last night, well after midnight. Our celebration dinner on Sunday night had gone long, and I had received hugs from both Cassie and Chloe when I left for home. They flew out, to their respective locations, on Monday, so Alex had been missing from yesterday's commute.

Poor planning had forced me from her bed late last night, so that I could have a chance to change for work in the morning. I hadn't slept that well for the remainder of the evening.

All night, questions had been racing through my head. Questions about the future.

Questions about our future.

Was I being selfish, thinking we had a life together? She was free now, unchained from her cheating husband. Maybe she wanted to stay free? Maybe I was just a stop along the way, and she wanted someone more her own age? And then there was the question of children, so maddeningly raised by Chloe. Kids had never been a priority for me, but I suppose my mental images of married life included rug rats at some point.

Maybe I was overthinking things, and making myself crazy for no reason?

My thoughts were pushed aside when motion appeared in my unfocused field of view. It was Sam, who plunked herself down beside me, wearing a smile a yard wide.

"Hi!" she giggled, snuggling against me. There was no reason to hide anymore. Frank was history. The girls were in the loop, and had gone home, happy for their mother and me. As for the other passengers on the train... well, let them find their own perfect woman.

That electric smile wasn't the only thing she was wearing. Her dress fit like a glove, and was showing more cleavage than anything I'd ever seen her wear to work. She saw my eyes lingering on her breasts.

"What do you think?" she asked, shaking her shoulders slightly.

"I think it's a good thing it's summer, or you could catch a chest cold," I said softly. "With a chest like yours, that could be life-threatening."

"Well," she chuckled, "I've got this boyfriend, who just loves my boobs. I thought we might get together at lunchtime, for a noon quickie, and wanted to make sure he remembered what was waiting for him. Do you think he'll go for it?"

"Yeah, I think he just might," I laughed. "How are you this morning, baby?" I leaned closer, and kissed her gently, feeling eyes on us from all around. Those who were familiar with us riding together probably noted the change in behaviour. We'd never kissed in public before. It felt strange, but nice.

"I didn't sleep well," she pouted. "Too excited. I missed you. You're not going to leave me all alone in that big house again tonight, are you?"

"No, honey," I told her. "I'm sorry. I needed to change, and had to think a few things through. You're a bit of a distraction for me, you know? Can you forgive me?"

"Forgive what?" she smiled, cuddling in under my arm. "I hope those thoughts weren't anything bad. Can I help at all? Is it about me?"

Not that I had ever tried, but there was no fooling Sam. It may sound sexist, but I think women in general are more emotionally perceptive than men, and Sam, in particular, had always read me quite well. I had never lied to her, and wasn't going to start now. She asked. I would tell her.

That didn't mean it was going to be easy, however. I took a deep breath.

"Okay... I'll spill it. I'm sure it's just me being paranoid," I said, looking into her sexy eyes, "but I'll tell you."

I paused, and took another breath. I wish I was as sure about my paranoia as I sounded. What if I was right? What if she really did want her freedom? What if I was wrong, and she misunderstood my concerns as not wanting her? What if... Oh fuck, just spit it out, before you drive yourself insane!

"Sam, honey, I hope you know what you mean to me," I began. "I love you, but I don't want to assume anything when it comes to the future. You're free of Frank, and deserve to stay free, if that's what you want. I won't make a fuss if you want to seek out someone else. It's your life."

It came out easier than I expected, but I'm not sure it sounded the way I meant it. I'm also not sure I could explain it any better, without breaking down into a babbling fool. Please say you understand.

She gave me a little smirk, and dug into her purse, coming out with her phone. She scrolled down, and placed a call.

"Hi, Marcy, it's Samantha," she said quietly. "I'm afraid I need to take a personal day, today. I have a few things to deal with that absolutely require my attention, right now. Right. I'll see you tomorrow." She pushed the 'end' button, and looked at me. "Your turn. I'm not leaving your side until we get this sorted out."

That sounds promising, I thought, reaching into my pocket. A minute later, I was set to play hookey from work, too. The ball was back in her court.

"Okay. Now, we need someplace to talk," she smiled, "among other things. I'm thinking... The Westin, on the waterfront, so let's stay on one extra stop. Sound good?"

Let's see... I began the day, thinking I would be spending a typically dreary Monday at work, worrying about our future. Then you say we're meeting for a nooner, get me to talk, and now we're going to spend the day together, at one of the city's most luxurious hotels? Yeah, I think it sounds just fine.

Sam lifted my arm, and wrapped it around her, cuddling tight against my side. I felt her big breasts squashed between us, and glanced down at her deep cleavage. This might indeed be a day to remember.

Unless she's giving me a final tumble, to ease the pain. There's that paranoia again.

We passed the rest of the trip to our stop in silence, with Sam pressing herself deliciously against me. At last, the train slowed, and she stood up, grabbing her purse. We were standing by the door when the train stopped sharply.

Sam stumbled, and I caught her, just as I had back when we started. The only difference was that this time, she had done it on purpose, and made no effort to pull away, maintaining the contact between her chest and mine for as-long-as possible. The doors opened, and people started to flow out, around us, while I held her. Her lips found mine.

The rest of the commuters were surprisingly polite, merely going around us without comment, although there was one who told us to 'get a room' as she went by.

"Yes. Let's get that room," Samantha smiled, leading me out by the hand.

It was a three-block stroll to the Westin, and we took our time, making use of cross traffic to get in a few more lingering kisses. At last, I followed her sexy rear end, watching her skirt swish, as her heels clicked on the polished marble of the hotel lobby. She led us to the counter.

"Hello!" the brunette behind the reception desk smiled. Her name tag said Margaret.

"Hi... Margaret," Sam smiled back. "We'd like a room, please. Something nice, with a view of the water. Something very nice. A suite, perhaps?"

"Certainly, Ma'am," Margaret said, pecking her keyboard. "For how long?"

"Checking out tomorrow morning," Sam answered. She leaned forward, and whispered something I didn't hear. The two women giggled, and Margaret cast a glance my way with a smile.

"Okay. I have two options for you; the Bridal suite, and the Owners' suite. Both have water views, but the Owners' suite has a bigger balcony," Margaret offered.

"We'll take the Owners' suite," Sam smiled, sliding her card across the counter.

Within minutes, Sam and I were in the elevator. There was a slot for our key card, and when we inserted it, the elevator doors closed, and it started upward briskly. There wasn't even a button for the floor we were headed to.

As the elevator slowed, Sam took my hand. The doors opened.

"Wow!" I gasped, as we stepped out. I was expecting hallway, but instead, we found ourselves in the living area of the suite. It was like something you'd see in a movie, but this wasn't a movie.

"Oh! That's why we had to use our card! It's a private floor!" Sam giggled. "This could be fun, honey. I had no idea this even existed."

Together, we explored the suite, from the bar and kitchen area, to the huge deck outside, to a second bedroom. The living room was very luxurious, with a long, soft leather couch that would definitely be seeing some action, but we still hadn't found the master bedroom. There was only one door left... a big, double portal, across the corner of the living room. We stopped in front of it. Sam looked at me, excited by the situation.

"You want to open it, or should I?" she asked.

"Please. It was your idea," I gestured, and watched her reach for the brass lever. She turned it.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, stepping into the room, which was larger than most living rooms. "I think I'm in heaven!"

"Me too," I breathed. "That makes you an angel, right?"

She glanced at me and blushed, then sauntered over to the bed, which dominated the room. It seemed much bigger than just a king-size, and had four beefy posts holding up a large, ornate canopy.

Sam kicked off her heels, and giggled girlishly, jumping onto the massive bed. She rolled onto her back.

"Ooooo, a mirror! Kinky! I've never watched myself having sex before," she smiled, as I came out of the ensuite bath area, which housed, among other things, a sauna, and giant soaking tub.

"How much is this costing you, Sam?" I asked her, feeling guilty that she was doing this because I needed reassuring.

"Don't know, and don't care," she giggled. "You're worth it, and I can afford it, so put it out of your head. Sounds to me like there's enough going on up there anyway, without adding to it. Now, my love, I suggest you come over here, and let me relax you." Her gaze dropped deliberately to my crotch, and she licked her lips.

A little 'relaxing' sounded like a wonderful idea. It had been several hours since I'd had the very great pleasure of her exquisite lips on my cock. I missed that heavenly sensation, even if it had only been since last night.

I disrobed as I moved across the room toward her, I had only my underwear left when I reached the bed. She welcomed me onto my back, in the centre of the mattress, and peeled the last item of clothing off over my hips.

My dick was only semi-hard, but didn't stay that way long, as she slurped it into her throat, sucking it full depth. I just laid back, and watched the mirror above me. It was like watching a virtual-reality porn movie on a big-screen TV, as Sam, still fully clothed, bobbed her platinum blonde head in my lap. Channel one, overhead, was a unique perspective on the blowjob, but channel two, the POV version was more fun to watch, as Sam's lips stretched around my thick shaft, and her spectacular eyes looked up into mine.

Samantha had planned to relax me, but that's not exactly what her mouth was doing. Laying with my arms behind my head, I passively accepted her attention, moaning softly, while she manipulated my cock expertly, making it harder and more un-relaxed. The pressure was building gradually, and I was breathing harder with each passing moment. She was increasing my desperation to cum, and driving me insane.

"Oh shit, Sam, I hope you know how incredible that feels," I groaned, stroking her hair softly. As soon as I said it, I knew it was a stupid question. She knew me so well. She knew my needs and wants implicitly. She wasn't using anything but her best, most effective technique on me, and it was only a matter of time before it had the desired results.

"Yeah, baby, getting close," I grunted. "Oh fuck, it's so good. You're the best! Fuck, I'm gonna cum, honey! Suck it! Yeah, suck it harder! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh... FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

I watched my own face in the reflection above me. Why is it women have a look of contentment and bliss on their faces during orgasm, but men look like a chimp having an epileptic fit? I hadn't seen my own 'O' face before. I guess Sam must love me more than I thought.

Anyway, embarrassing appearances aside, I was spewing the contents of my balls down her throat, to her accompanying moans of happiness. Sam was gulping it back, sucking smoothly, and milking every drop from me. As the last spasm waned, I flopped on the bed, spent.

Well, she wanted me to relax, and in my current, gelatinous state, I was about as relaxed as I could get. Any more relaxed and I'd be dead. I watched Samantha wiggle across the bedroom floor, and could just see her in the bar area, getting a drink. She came back, put the drink down, and reached behind her, unzipping the sexy blue dress. It was placed on a hanger, in the large closet, looking very lonely. Her bra and panties found a place on the floor, along with my stuff, until she picked up my pants, shirt and jacket, hanging them beside the dress.

"We'll be heading to work from here tomorrow. Best not to look too wrinkled," she smiled, easing into the bed beside me. "Alright, my darling. Ready to tell me what's going on inside your head? What's got you all worried?"

I looked at our reflection in the overhead mirror. If I do say so myself, we made a very nice couple. Certainly, she was everything I could ever want from a woman. Kind, honest, caring, perceptive, fun-loving, playful... and then there's that body, which was being pressed so delightfully against me right now. Beautiful, sexy, buxom and built for pleasure, that body had no equal, in my experience. Any man who wanted more than Samantha could offer was probably also looking for unicorns in his spare time. They just didn't exist. I loved her, with every fibre of my being. I knew I had found the one, but it wasn't only my decision.

Sam waited patiently, resting her head on my chest. Her fingers traced idle circles around my nipples, as though doodling on a notepad, and her breathing tickled my skin.

"Alex?" she probed, hoping to break the inertia. "Talk to me, honey. I'm here. Together, we can work through anything."

Well, she was saying all the right words; 'we', 'together', that sort of thing. Here goes nothing.

"I just don't want you to look at your life twenty years from now, and come to the conclusion that being with me was a mistake. You've been disappointed by one partner already. That's enough for a lifetime."

The room was silent again, as she considered her response. It took longer than I was hoping for, and the vacuum was killing me.

"Alex," she finally replied. "I can't foresee the future. What I'll think twenty years from now... No one can say. All I can say for sure is that I Love You, right here, right now, and I want us to be together. You make me very happy. I'd forgotten how good that felt with Frank. Now that he's gone, I feel like a great weight has been lifted off my life, and you helped me lift it. I owe you for that."

"That's exactly what I mean. I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything. If you want to be free, you should be," I said softly.

"Poor choice of words on my part," she shook her head, sitting up to look into my eyes. "I'm not repaying a debt by being with you. I'm here because you are what I want my spouse to be. My big concern is that you'll get tired of being with an old lady, especially after both Cassie and Chloe threw themselves at you."

"So, if I'm hearing you right, we're both concerned about being good enough for each other," I smiled, suddenly feeling a whole lot better.

"That's correct," she nodded. "I'm not looking for anyone else. I Love You."

"Well, you... Samantha Fordham... are everything I could ever want in a woman. I stopped seriously looking at anyone else the day I met you. I Love You too."

"Hmmmm. Then we have a serious problem, don't we?" she giggled. Her lips moved closer to mine.

"Yep, a real pickle," I laughed. "What to do for the next forty or fifty years?"

Our lips met, and Sam moaned softly, rolling atop me. Her luscious, soft body pressed against me, my favourite feeling in the world. Her kisses were gentle, and loving, reassuring me further. Crisis averted.

"I have an idea how we can start," she whispered, between kisses.

I had the same idea. Her lovely, prescription quality blowjob, meant to relax me so we could talk out the problem, had done the job perfectly. Now that we had discussed things, I felt better. Much, much better, and having her body, so soft and exciting, pressed against me was allowing those better feelings to reach my dick. He stood up to volunteer his services.

I rolled us over, and her hand immediately guided my refreshed erection into her wet depths. It slid in so easily, parting her juicy labia smoothly.

"Oh yes, that's exactly what I was thinking. Just like that. I'm never going to get tired of your big cock, so deep inside my pussy," she hissed, grabbing my ass with both hands. "Tell me, darling; does divorced pussy feel different from unhappily married pussy?"

That was a comparison I never thought I'd make.

"Well," I giggled, "I'd have to say that the divorced model seems more relaxed. Less distracted. It might take me a few more trials to come to an informed decision."

"A few more, huh?" she smiled, looking up at me with those incredible green eyes. Her arms were loose around my neck, and her legs wrapped tighter around my waist. "How many more?"

"Oh, I don't know. One or two... thousand. I'll get back to you," I smiled back, and kissed her.

All kidding aside, there did seem to be something different about this time. Not her pussy, of course. That succulent crevice was every bit as warm, tight, and juicy as it had always been, since our first time in the train restroom. The difference was emotional. Certainly, once Sam received the news that her divorce was final, that afternoon session, within earshot of her daughters, had been an energetic celebration. It was one helluva fuck.

Several times, we had made love gently, letting our deeper emotions set the pace. Those sessions had been very satisfying, and protracted.

Today, was unique, however. There was no longer any reason to hold back anything, and we didn't, letting our love for each other pour out, uninhibited.

Coming here today, Samantha had intended to give us a neutral, if luxurious, location to talk through the few doubts I had about our potential future. Talk is great, but this was even better.

Humans don't think in words; we think in images, and there are literally unlimited images to choose from, floating through our minds. Those images get personalized by our own emotions, and people don't even realize the connections that their brains build between the two. The point is that words, no matter how carefully considered, fall woefully short at conveying those images and emotions. The phrase 'a picture is worth a thousand words' is even inadequate. Language is that watered down.

This connection, however, was not. Much more clear and concise than any words ever could be, it told me things about our future together than no conversation could approach, because I could feel them. Her emotions came out, loud and clear, no translation required. They told me I needn't have worried.

Samantha's kisses and caresses very eloquently conveyed her feelings about our future. My thoughts shifted from our distant future, to the more immediate, more intimate one. The one where my cock was buried balls-deep in her succulent pussy.