Vienna Express - Cover

Vienna Express

by Jerry

Copyright© 2001 by Jerry

Erotica Sex Story: A traveler has an encounter with a beautiful stranger; a woman of mystery. Is she real? Is it a dream? And what about that spider?

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Mind Control   Heterosexual   Masturbation   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   .

Would this trip never end? I felt as though I had spent half a lifetime in that train compartment. Had it really only been six hours since I boarded the express to Vienna in Paris for another round of sales talks as my U.S. company tried to expand its software line within the Common Market? Although a long trip, the train was preferable to air as I was terrified of planes. I napped off and on being awakened once for a passport check at the German boarder. I ate with an elderly German couple who spoke no English but were friendly and the meal was good. Returning to my compartment, I had just settled when we stopped again and I went through another passport drill.

She entered with the grace of a swan. I was startled as I had been told the compartment would be mine only for the entire journey. The steward held open the door and gave a small bow as she passed him and took a seat opposite me. She gave me an indifferent nod and arranged herself in the seat as the steward raised her luggage to the overhead rack. Her two, small bags were leather with gold initials, "AD." Her scent was expensive and very classy, her make-up and costume impeccable. She wore a black dress with sleeves to her wrists. It buttoned from her alabaster neck to her perfect knees and did not conceal the promise of full breasts and hips. The buttons were large and of an ebony black, a curious two-part pin was just above her left breast. Studying it, I saw the pin was an onyx spider the shape of a black widow, a tiny silver chain connected the spider to a fly, it's wings studded with dozens of small diamonds. The two were arranged such that they stared at one another head-on with only the three inches of silver chain both separating and connecting them.

She was stunning. I tried not to stare but her beauty pulled me in; her poise, the self-assured way she moved her exquisite hands as she smoothed her dress, her radiance was consuming. I felt I didn't belong in her presence and found myself taking in her scent with deep, awed breaths. Once settled, she looked out the window but seemed to see only inner thoughts.

I tried to think of something to say but everything I thought of sounded contrite and totally wrong in my mind. She glanced over and caught my eye. Her smile was at once beautiful and mysterious while her eyes registered friendly indifference. I managed a stupid grin that must have told her I was an idiot and not accustomed to being in the presence of such quality. We did not speak for there was too much distance between us although, physically, we were no more than five feet apart.

The steward knocked on our door. I rose and opened it noticing how my companion stiffened and seemed to withdraw into herself. The man looked around me to the woman and held out a passport; an American passport! She nodded first at him then me giving us silent instructions. I took the document and handed it to her; the steward bowed and left.

"You're an American?" I asked.

She gave a slow nod, the soft light making her dark blue eyes seem liquid their depth as two bottomless wells. She did not reply but, again, stared through the dirty glass of our window. I felt I had been dismissed and offered no more questions though I had many.

Her eyes closed. I was free now to study her beauty in detail. She wore little make-up and only tiny, diamond earrings. A single strand pearl necklace complimented her small, long neck directing my attention to the gentle rise and fall of her full breasts as she in-and-exhaled with slow, controlled breaths. I imagined the alabaster skin, dark rosettes, and firm, small nipples behind the rich black of her dress. I felt a stirring in my crotch, the first signs of an impending erection. My eyes traveled to her waist and I drank in the swell of her hips then past her thighs to her knees where the smoky gray-black of her hose met the hem of the dress. Her knees were parted slightly and I longed for the train to jolt them wider apart. What wonders would be revealed?

So lost in the admiration of this beauty, my gaze traveled down caressing her calves and on to the ankles where I paused to admire a delicate bracelet of gold encircling the right. Forcing myself to break my tour, not realizing how hypnotized I had become, I was about to re-trace my journey from the top when my eye caught hers. She must have been watching my appraisal for some time. She had not moved and I assumed she still looked out the window or had her eyes closed. I expected to be admonished, perhaps to be slapped or even reported to the steward; there was little doubt about the lust in my detailed examination of this woman.

She smiled slightly. It was not an angry smile for such smiles do exist. It was not an embarrassed smile for women of such beauty are accustomed to being admired and wanted. Her smile was knowing, it was subtle, not broad nor friendly nor inviting. I smiled back trying to convey an apology for my poor manners and communicate my harmlessness.

With impala grace she stood, walked to the door and turned the lock. She turned the compartment light off and reached for the tiny reading light in the corner. Turning it on cast a glow not unlike a single candle would in a same size room. It cast shadows that blended with those thrown into the compartment by the occasional outside street or automobile lights our gently rocking train car passed.

I froze. My erection died. I had an immediate thought that this woman wanted me but quickly put it out of mind. She wanted the door locked so she could sleep uninterrupted. She wanted the harsh overhead light off for the same reason.

I watched her retake her seat opposite me. The benches could easily accommodate three people and she could have returned to the window as I also sat closest to it on my side. She sat instead in the middle. She sat upright with great dignity, her hands in her lap, knees close together. She looked directly into my eyes. I did not dare speak for there was an electricity in the air, a charged scent that told me to remain silent. The usually subdued train sounds became ever louder and my heart began to beat faster; I saw that the fly of her two-part pin was, somehow, closer now to the spider, perhaps half the original distance.

Moving ever slow, I watched her long-fingered, beautiful hands move to the first button of her dress. In the semi-dark, the blackness of it was featureless, I could no longer see detail and when looking at her eyes I could not read their message. Silently, slowly, the button was undone. Then the next, then the next, and the next. Five minutes passed, eight, then ten and the last button at the knee fell free with its half of the dress.

My erection had returned with power and was straining in its confines. I squirmed slightly to relieve my discomfort moving slowly, slowly not to break the spell this woman was weaving sure as the black widow she wore above her heart. I am her fly I thought, I go willingly pulled by a silver chain of desire to her lair.

She deftly pulled both sides of the dress fully to her sides. Her full length, black slip reflected the soft light and defined her figure. Resting her hands again in her lap, she watched me. I saw her eyes travel to the crotch of my pants and back to meet my gaze. She seemed to be waiting. For what?

The train entered yet another tunnel as we continued through the Alps. The tunnel this time was long. The woman reached over and turned off the small lamp. We were in total darkness consumed as if in black cotton. I felt constricted in my chest and was again aware of my straining penis. In the dark I chanced to move it to a more comfortable position. The tunnel continued, would it never end and give me back again this creature I so wanted. I felt, more than heard, movement. It was not radical as though she were leaving or even joining me on my seat. It was subtle yet definitely movement and from her.

 
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