Chapter 15
It was near midnight now and the only thing visible through the window was the wildly changing profile of the rugged terrain, silhouetted against the moon and an occasional shimmering reflection, indicating that they were passing a lake.
"Yes, that had been quite an evening, everything considered," George mused. "First the fouled up woman in the cleaners, followed by Terry's Frenching him in the phone booth." After that experience George visited Terry many times. No matter how many women went down on him in the bridge games, no one even approached her ability at that sensuous activity.
Now he was on a vacation ... most men go on vacations in the hopes of finding sex, George was going on one to get away from it. All he wanted to do was to relax in the sun and do a little fishing, something he loved to do.
He got up and stretched, he was getting tired. The train didn't carry sleepers but perhaps he could stretch out on a couple of lounge chairs in the club car. He made his way towards the rear of the train noting that most people were sleeping as they sat.
He entered the club car and was delighted to see that it was empty ... no, there was one Madonna-like figure sitting at the far end reading a magazine. George saw instantly that she was a remarkably beautiful woman.
Her bearing was elegant and aristocratic. Where her hair peeked from under the black lace mantilla it had a red-gold sheen as though it were spun from fine silk. Her neck was long and stately with a single strand of pearls at its base. The flowing black silk garment she wore hid her body from view, but it couldn't disguise a magnificent, jutting bust that jiggled gelatinously with her easy breathing. The flowing folds of the garment almost reached her ankles giving her an almost nun-like appearance. Strangely the one thing modern about her apparel was her shoes and even they were out of fashion now. They were shiny black pumps with the highest heels George had ever seen. He could see the fine sheen of black hose peeking out from under the folds.
The contrast of her stiletto heeled shoes and black stockings with the rest of her Madonna-like appearance tickled George's interest, so he sat down opposite her and picked up a magazine from a table. He glanced up for a closer look ... of course ... it was Elizabeth Conway, just about Hollywood's highest paid movie star, the modern-day Greer Garson. She had built an ethereal aura around her by selecting her films wisely; never touching the "recommended for adults only" films that were the order of the day. She was the only star on the silver screen who could make an old-fashioned love story and make it pay. She had an elegant, Victorian quality about her which made her fans, mostly older people, adore her.
As George sat there, drinking in the atmosphere that surrounded the regal woman, a feeling of awe, even reverence, flowed over him, soothing his tired body like warm baby oil. After the lascivious women that he had serviced for the past six months, George had lost respect for all members of the female sex. Now he realized that this was a mistake, there was always the good to go with the bad.
The next time he glanced up from his magazine George was startled to discover that the folds of the garment that had been caressing her ankles, were now at mid calf. Probably caused by a movement of her body he reasoned. However he didn't wait quite so long the next time he looked up from his reading and this time the garment was just below her knees. It still could be from a body movement he convinced himself, not wanting to think that it could be anything else, but involuntarily, his pulse increased the tempo of its beating.
George stared at his magazine, not seeing a thing, not daring to breathe, then slowly, very slowly he lifted his eyes ... he was thunderstruck. The garment now was at mid-thigh, her really beautifully shaped legs parted now just a trifle, clad in their exciting covering of gossamer black nylon, the sheerest he had ever seen; so tissue thin that the warm hue of her flesh shone through. He thought he saw her glance up at him for a quick moment from under hooded eyelids.
George tore his eyes away from the generous display. There was a great hammering in his chest and horror of horrors, a great pulsing in his balls as his prick sped down his pants leg towards full erection ... there was no question about it now, Elizabeth Conway, the most adored, the most respected star in all of Hollywood was blatantly exposing her legs to him. She, the essence of propriety, decency, even motherliness, the one star who never had had a breath of scandal whispered about her had widened the spread of her legs a bit more when George breathlessly looked up once again. Now he could see the jet black elastic band at the top of her stockings and the merest suggestion of white thigh deep in the shadows.
"Do you recognize me, sonny?" she asked softly, staring deeply into George's eyes.
The only sound in the club car had been the clickity-click of the wheels as they rode over the rail sections. Now her words struck him like a clap of thunder from a bolt of lightning ripping through the car. George was about to blurt out that he did recognize her, but something told him not to.
"N-no, ma'am ... I'm afraid that I don't," he stammered.
That was all ... she didn't say anything more. Had she noticed the great bulge in his trousers illuminated by the lamp, the shade so situated that it cast a spotlight-like bright circle around his crotch? He was jittery, furious with himself for not continuing the conversation ... dare he now? ... no, so much time had passed it would seem too forward for a youth of his age. If anything were to happen she must lead the way ... but those legs, those lovely, shapely, awe-inspiring legs ... he had to see more, but how ... if only he could lower the angle of his vision he was certain he could see right up to her crotch ... drop his magazine, then glance up ... that was it.
George let the magazine slip to the floor, leaned down to retrieve it and looked ... he almost fell off the chair. As though she had anticipated his tactics, the beautiful star spread her legs at least six inches more and what he saw there made Helen's crotch area seem like that belonging to a ten-year-old girl. Elizabeth Conway's thighs were set wider apart and the white streak of her tiny nylon panties was so stuffed with her cunt and great mass of curly black pubic hair that George fully expected them to explode like a balloon that had been over-inflated. Great masses of her hair hung down over the top edge of her panties as you might expect to find on an old whore, but never, ever, on the almost saint-like Elizabeth Conway.
"What are you looking at, sonny?" her voice was calm, unruffled, not a trace of condemnation in it. George quickly sat up again.
"What were you looking at, sonny?" she repeated, her legs still in their splayed condition. George just couldn't answer, he just gaped at her in utter consternation.
"Please tell me what you were looking at, sonny? ... I'm anxious to hear," she asked and this time her voice wasn't quite so calm.
"I ... I wasn't looking at anything, ma'am ... I just wanted to pick up my magazine," George stammered weakly.
"Oh come now, sonny ... you were staring at me when you were bent over that way ... I want you to tell me what you were staring at?"
Her tone now was like that of a school teacher who had caught a little boy doing something naughty. George groped frantically for words but could find none.
"Were you looking up my dress?" she said, a note of rising excitement coming into her voice, her hands clasping and unclasping at her sides. "Was what you saw up there the reason for your little dicky growing so long and fat ... was it, sonny?"
Once again George almost fell off his chair. It couldn't be, it just COULDN'T be. The one woman in all the world that he had respect for was sinking into the same bottomless pit of depravity as the others he had known recently. The spell was broken, her lascivious nature had been exposed by her lewd, obscene words. He felt like saying, "Sure, baby, I was looking at that big, fat twat of yours," but he didn't. He knew that would cancel out the hot fuck that he would get out of her shortly. It would be interesting to see just how these Hollywood broads fuck.
"Yes, ma'am, I have to admit that I was looking up your dress," George said, stammering no more. "And I sure liked what I saw up there ... you have a pretty cunny."
"Well isn't that sweet of you, sonny," she laughed, pulling her gown all the way up to her hips and raising it past her navel so that he could see the great mass of hair that rose upward over her concave tummy to the base of the little indenture. "No one has ever given it that description before ... say, sonny, why don't you come over and sit in this chair next to me so that we can ... er ... talk a bit."
George was there in two youthful bounds.
"You know, sonny, I never realized that a boy's little dicky could grow so huge ... could ... could I touch it to see if it's real?"
"Be my guest."
"Golly, sonny, now you're beginning to sound a little fresh."
"Oh I'm sorry, ma'am ... I guess just the thought of you touching my dicky got me kind of excited," George said quickly, realizing he had to seem more restrained, less sure of himself.
The star reached out and nervously placed her hot hand right on the great cock-knob in his trousers
"OU-U-U it's so BIG and it's throbbing so fast," she exclaimed, as she pinched the big head, testing its steel-like hardness. "Oh, sonny, would you mind awfully much if I saw it?"
"Here?"
"No, not here, silly, back in my compartment," she exclaimed excitedly.
"I don't know why in the world you want to see it, ma'am, it's such a big, ugly old thing," George said solemnly, suppressing a laugh only after a great effort.
"I'm certain that my description will be far different from yours," she laughed as she rose and glided towards the door.
When they entered her compartment George walked over to her berth and removed a large hardcover book. He didn't want anything to interfere with the fuck he was going to throw into Elizabeth Conway. He was about to toss it on a table and would have if she hadn't shrieked and made a frantic grab for it. He deftly avoided her clutching fingers and quickly read the title, "WHIPPING AND BONDAGE." "Will the surprises never cease?" George mused, handing her the heavy book. George had become an expert on this subject during his experiences of the last six months. Many of the women who had come to him required whipping before they could bring themselves to suck and fuck. "So she's one of those is she?" Her halo had now completely vanished from his eyes.
"Do you have a whip to go with that book, ma'am?" he asked in as much of a little boy tone as he could muster.
"Why do you ask?" she asked weakly, a frightened look coming into her lovely eyes.
"Oh nothing, ma'am ... it's just that I noticed that your book had something to do with whipping ... I ... I love to whip girls," George answered with feigned confusion.
"You DO-O-O?" she fairly screamed it out, she was so excited.
"Y-yes ... is that naughty?"
"No, it isn't naughty at all, son ... I ... I'd be happy to let you whip me if that's what you like to do," she gasped, kneeling on the bed and bending over, then flipping her voluminous skirt up over her big, luscious ass. "The whip's over there in the corner."
George smiled as he went over and picked up the big bull-whip and as he approached her she began to plead, "Oh sonny, don't whip your mommy's lovely fat buttocks ... don't punish me ... "
"O.K. if you don't want me to," George said, reveling in the situation.
"Oh no-no ... if you want to whip me, go ahead, don't pay any attention to anything I might say."
George raised his brawny arm and brought the rawhide strap down onto her great buttocks with a crack. Almost instantly raw, red welts appeared on the creamy, smooth surfaces. Then he rained a series of blow till the cheeks of her ass got red.
"Oh son, you're hurting your loving mommy so bad," she screamed as livid gashes appeared where only moments before milk white skin had been. Black tufts of cunt-hair were visible at the base of her buttock cheeks and George could hardly wait till he could spin her around and plough the gorgeous star.
"ENOUGH ... ENOUGH," she screamed, as it was obvious to George that she had experienced her orgasm. "Now fuck me, sonny ... FUCK me!"
She lay on her back and drew her skirts up to her waist exposing all of that great mass of panty-stuffing goodies that he had seen briefly back in the club car, only this time it was more wanton, more sensual. The upper half of her still looked Madonna-like, lying serenely on the bed, her face still surrounded by the black lace mantilla and the shapeless black dress below. But below her waist was as eye-catching a show as George had ever seen in a pornographic movie. The great mass of black pubic hair above the tiny, cunt-lip stuffed white panties; her long-long legs, clad excitingly in her sheer black nylons, scissoring in the air in wanton invitation; she snapping her long garter straps into the softness of her thighs and belly.
George started to undress slowly, having discovered at Helen's bridge parties that a man too can drive a woman wild with a slow strip tease. He unbuckled his belt and then grasped the tab to his zipper and very slowly pulled it down.
"Lemme see it ... LEMME SEE IT," she shrieked, completely out of control now.
"But, ma'am ... I'm afraid that my big dicky might frighten you if I show it to you all at once," George said quietly.
"Oh for GOD'S sake, take the thing out and stick it into me," she wailed.
"Oh I MUSTN'T do that, my mom says I'll make babies if I do."
"Oh SHIT," the usually aristocratic, usually queen-like star screamed, pounding her fists on the berth in her frustration.
As she did, George dropped his pants and his great corded cock sprang to attention before her disbelieving eyes; long strands of clear fluid hanging down from the purple monster at the end of his fat shaft. He shuffled toward the bed, his legs widespread so that she could take in the sight of his great, dangling balls as they swung pendulously, his huge prong too waving wildly above.
This was the sight that really sent them at Helen's bridge parties and it didn't miss with Elizabeth Conway.
"Oh it's so BEAUTIFUL," she wailed, her eyes wide open and filled with wild lust. She wiggled her way frantically on the berth till her buttocks were on the edge of the mattress, her silken legs splayed wantonly. Naturally George's great, spongy cock-head reached her long before he did and she grasped it with fingers of steel and jammed it against the tissue-thin material of her panties.
Too frantic to remove them, the gorgeous star reached down and yanked the crotch part sideways, leaving an opening just large enough for his entry. George didn't miss the opportunity as he drove the huge instrument deep into her cunt, leaving torn tissues in its wake like an icebreaker churning its powerful way through a frozen sea.
The ecstatic star screamed and screamed again, snaking her arms around George's broad shoulders, pulling his head down to mash her world-famous lips wetly against his, sucking his tongue voraciously into her mouth. She mewed crazily, loving the terrible pains that wracked the inside of her stuffed pussy just as she had loved the pain of the lash on her buttocks. The long, fat cock that now lay deep in her belly was like all of the cocks that had ever fucked her merged into one and incredibly, unbelievably, that cock of cocks belonged to a youth who had just passed puberty.
George didn't have to move, in fact he was so exhausted that he couldn't have much if he'd wanted to. She worked her cunt that was clinging like a sucking mouth, up and down his huge pole with long powerful strokes. The wild slapping of his great balls against her inflamed buttocks sent her to never before found heights of sexual frenzy. George merely supported himself with his hands stiff-armed on the edge of the bunk, letting her frantically moving body do all the work, permitting her suctioning cunt to slide at will up and down the unbelievable length of his cock. Occasionally on her upstroke he would jam forward and almost drive his swollen cock-head through the walls of her womb.
As she worked her cunt wildly on his cock, George reached beneath them and found the puckered anus centered between the cheeks of her ass and jammed his index finger in to the hilt.
"Oh MARVELOUS," she screamed. "I LOVE that ... keep it there, lover."
With his finger deep in the rectum of the world's foremost image of respectability and motherhood, George began to thrust it in and out to the rhythm of his spearing instrument as he socked his belly into hers, she with her mouth still glued to his, suctioning his tongue deep into her throat as though she were imagining that it was a cock.
She raised her big buttocks from the berth and wrapped her long, silken legs around his back and gave impetus to his forward thrusts, her powerful thigh muscles working beneath the sheer black stockings. She twisted her feet a bit so that she could jab her stiletto heels into the back of his calves as though she were spurring him on over the finish line. And in truth he was, towards the finish line of a monumental orgasm. Her digging heels caused delicious pleasure-pains to shoot like electric charges up his legs to explode like a starburst in his wildly flailing, sperm-laden balls as they slapped her buttocks on either side of his working hand in unison to his thrusts.
She too was approaching orgasm and her body had become one of an animal, no longer human, her lovely face twisted and contorted, an expression never seen on the silver screen by her fans.
"O-U-U-U ... FUCK IT HARD - FUCK IT HARD - FUCK IT HARD - FUCK IT HARD," she screamed, using an oral expression that her fans had never heard either, her obscene words oddly going in time to the clickity-click of the wheels on the rail rather than the movement of his tireless fucking.
Then as the train entered a tunnel with a roar, George felt his sperm rocket up his shaft and blast deep into her tunnel and the roar of the train was nothing compared to the roar that escaped the lips of the two wildly thrashing participants on the berth.