The Train
by Capt. Feg

The story I am about to retell actually happened. It was in the late
50's - before the advent of the Pill or Tights.  I had married about
two years previously. My wife, Cathy, was in her late twenties. I
was in my late 30s. We had been to a large, loud party in London. We
had both consumed large amounts of alcohol. Leaving late at night
(for those days) we wound our way to the local railway station to
catch the last train home. Supporting Cathy, I managed to stagger to
the station. We poured ourselves onto the train, hoping it was the
right one, and giggling at the thought of ending up in Edinburgh.

Cathy wore beneath her coat, her favourite party dress - a long,
full red dress with large red buttons up the front and a tight belt
at the waist. Underneath she wore a bra, stockings and suspenders,
and panties. She had dressed to please me. The effect of alcohol on
Cathy is to send her to sleep. At this time railway trains had
coaches with 6 seater compartments. The train was largely deserted.
We slumped into the first empty compartment. I switched the
compartment light to dim. I didn't pull down the compartment blinds.

Even in those days I was something of a voyeur, and found the
possibility of being watched exciting. We settled down. I kissed
Cathy, and as she warmed to my tongue in her mouth and ear, I
unbuttoned her coat and top buttons on her dress.  My hand slipped
into her bra without protest from her. I gently squeezed her breast,
enjoying the warm weight of it my hand and the hardened flesh of her
nipple pushing into my palm. Feeling pretty aroused myself I
unbuttoned her dress from the bottom. One handed, and drunk, this
took some time. As I struggled with the buttons I was half-aware of
movement to and fro in the corridor from time to time, but
concentrating on the difficult buttons I took little notice.

I finally had the buttons and belt undone. But now Cathy had fallen
asleep, with her head on my shoulder.  Cathy sleeps soundly, so I
saw no reason not to enjoy myself with her goodies. I lifted her
dress open and looked at her body. Her legs were slightly open, but
not enough for me to get to her pussy. I moved position to move her
leg a little. As I knew she wouldn't, Cathy didn't stir during this
manhandling. I had just managed to get her leg where I wanted it
when the door suddenly and loudly slid open. As my hand was over her
body I instantly pulled her coat to cover her.  

A large shadow of a man sat in the empty seat next to Cathy. I sat
back, cursing my luck and nursing a painful erection. I put my head
back on the headrest and closed my eyes. Holding Cathy's hand,
buried between us, I settled down. After a period of time I guess I
dozed a little, lulled by tiredness, alcohol, and the gentle
sideways movement of my body, and Cathy's body against me as the
train click-clacked along the tracks. I was pulled back to awareness
when I felt Cathy's body move out of sequence with the train's.
Without shifting position I opened my eyes a slit and looked down at
Cathy.

Her coat was open. Her body on view. A large black hand was
caressing her breast in a circular motion. I watched fascinated as
the hand massaged first one breast then the other. There were few
black men in the country at that time. I was mesmerised by the
contrast between Cathy's white skin and the ebony hand touching her.
Having his fill of her breasts the hand moved down, caressingly over
her skin to the top of her panties. First one, then another, and
another - all his fingers gently slipped under the elastic of her
panties. I concentrated hard on not ejaculating as the bulge of his
hand moved down under her panties. It explored from side to side
over the area where I knew her pubic hair to be. After a brief pause
it moved purposefully down between her still open legs. 

Cathy's fingers in my hand suddenly dug hard into my hand. There was
no other movement from her, but I knew - she was awake. I wasn't
sure whether she wanted me to wake up and protect her, or to just
watch the stranger's hand exploring her. Looking back, I guess she
wanted me to stop it. At the time, in my excitement I needed little
persuasion that she wanted to share her experience with me (Even
though we had never talked of such matters, and she had no inkling
that I might be excited by her violation). I did not respond to her
hand and continued to feign sleep. 

From the movement of the hand under her panties I knew that the
fingers had found her pussy, and that one or two were probing deep
into her. As if in her sleep Cathy moved her head on my shoulder.
Her lips were close to my ear. Almost inaudibly she whispered my
name. Getting no response she repeated it several times. I still
made no response. By now the bulge in the crutch of her panties was
moving up and down, as it sawed into her pussy. Cathy's breathing in
my ear was now hot and ragged. Quietly I heard her whisper  "No,
please no . . .  don't"  

By now my erection was painfully caught in my pubic hair and
underpants. I had managed to control the pain but knew that I must
move soon. My mind raced at possible ways to relieve myself. But I
was afraid that if I moved it would frighten off the stranger's
hands. I felt an overwhelming desire to see her being violated by
this stranger.  I finally decided that I would just stand up and
walk out of the compartment, and leave her alone with him. Without
further thought I did this. I jumped to my feet and rushed to the
door, hand to mouth as if to be sick. Without a sideways glance I
slid open the door, strode through, and shut it quickly behind me. I
strode of quickly up the corridor, out of sight. Sorting out my
tied-up erection I silently crept back down the corridor and
carefully peeked into my compartment. 

Cathy had not moved at all. Neither had the stranger. His hand still
stroked Cathy's pussy. However, his head was turned towards the
corridor looking out for my return. As the seconds ticked past he
must have realised that I might be gone sometime. He seemed to make
a decision. Carefully extricating his hand from Cathy's cunt, he
stood up and turned away from me. His back to me he seemed to
rapidly unbuttoned his flies. I couldn't see his cock. He knelt down
between Cathy's legs. He pulled her gently to the edge of the seat.
All I could make out was the manoeuvring of his hips as he lined up
his cock and exposed Cathy's pussy. He sank down onto her, as his
penis slipped into her. Obviously he had worked out by now that
Cathy was drunk and unlikely to be disturbed. He started to fuck her
with short hard strokes.

Out in the corridor my mind raced. I wondered if Cathy really was
awake, and if she was, why she didn't do something to stop him. I
wondered why I was standing here watching someone else fuck my wife.
The thought suddenly crashed into my mind that Cathy wasn't wearing
her cap. A rapid mental calculation told me that she was mid-month.
Torn in two by the desire to see her being inseminated, but
agonisingly anxious about the consequences, I decided to return to
the compartment. 

As that thought was crystallising in my mind the stranger stopped
moving. I looked on in horror as his buttocks clenched and
unclenched several time, as he pushed his cock as far into her as it
would go, discharging his spunk deep into her belly. 

The fuck had taken about 15 seconds. He stood up and put his penis
in his pants and buttoned his flies. Without another glance at
Cathy, and leaving her body exposed and her legs wide open he
reached for the door. I desperately dived into the open doorway of
the next compartment to hide. I heard his footsteps move off down
the corridor in the opposite direction. I pulled out my cock and,
alone in the dark compartment, my mind racing with the recent
visions and activities, I gently masturbated. After only a few
strokes I exploded, thick white globules of semen falling to the
floor. My mind drawn to the stranger's sperm deep inside my wife at
this moment, searching for her egg . . . .  

Cathy! Straightening my clothes I rushed back to our compartment. 

Cathy was in much the same position that she had been in before the
stranger had entered our compartment. Between his departure, as I
sat and wanked next door she had sat up a little, pulled her coat
over her, and sat as if still asleep. I sat down beside her. She
snuggled up to me as if still asleep.  I smelt the mixture of their
sex. 

In silence we eventually got home. Cathy pretended to be
semi-comatose, needing to be half carried. Closing the front door at
home I laid her face down on the stairs took my coat off and removed
hers. As I leant over her I could smell the sex again. Her body
looked small and vulnerable laying passively, letting me move it at
will. Drawn by lust I lifted her skirt, pulled her panties to one
side and stood back to undo my flies. In the hall light I could see
the sticky mess around her cunt and inner thighs, and where it had
dribbled down to form two dark wet patches on her stocking tops. My
cock slid easily into her. She laid just as passively for me as she
had for him. Within half a dozen strokes I was coming. 

Cathy had her next period on time. I was disappointed in a way. We
never mentioned the journey or it's events to each other. We never
had the opportunity to repeat the activities again, even though I
would dearly have loved to. I just felt too shy to raise the
subject. What would I have said if she had asked me why I had
deliberately left her alone with a stranger who was obviously going
to help himself to her? How would she answer me, if I had asked her
why she didn't try to stop him?    


