Prologue

A Google search reveals extensive articles written over many years about a phenomenon called genetic sexual attraction. The reports suggest it has always occurred and that social media and changes in the law allow adoptees to find relatives they usually could not contact. The articles also indicate that in 50% of the cases, an uncontrollable, all-consuming sexual attraction occurs.

From their first contact, our protagonists, a mother and the son she gave up for adoption when he was an infant, are drawn to each other. They do not know why they just have to suck and fuck.

Chapter 1

Joel Vincent smiled ruefully as he surveyed the lounge car of the westbound California Zephyr. While watching an old mystery movie featuring the Orient Express in his hotel room, he impulsively decided to take the train home.

He was traveling for work and had meetings in four cities in seven days. Tired of hotel rooms, restaurant food, and airplanes, he decided taking the train home would at least break the monotony of business travel.

The Amtrak train did not live up to the storied opulence of the Orient Express, the fabled Paris to Istanbul train. There were no mysterious femme fatales prepared to jump into bed with a handsome stranger. There were no liveried servants obsequiously moving silver service carts to private compartments. Neither was the lounge car done in shiny oak and well-polished leather.

On either side of the car were tan lounge chairs angled toward the large observation window. Between each pair of chairs was a small serving table. The dominant theme was 20th-century modern. The “leather” was leatherette. The tables were nondescript black plastic. The central aisle was just wide enough for passengers to walk through single file.

A semicircular service bar was positioned at the entrance to the car. A confident African-American woman stood alertly behind the bar. She was about his age, with dark chocolate skin and frosted blonde hair. In line with her duties, she wore a broad smile and nodded to acknowledge him.

“Good afternoon, sir! Welcome aboard! How can I serve you?”

“Thank you. Do you have Martell?”

“Yes, we do! How would you like that?”

“Give that to me straight up with a Corona chaser.”

“Yes, Sir. Coming right up. Sir, why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll bring your drink to you.”

Joel noticed the full hips of the bartender as she busied herself preparing his drinks. He sighed. Nice work if you could get it. However, he suspected he would have no more luck with her than with flight attendants. Even if they were interested, they wouldn’t risk their jobs for a quick fuck.

He glanced around the lounge car, noting that there was only one other person there. She was an older, full-figured, white woman. Her half-empty drink sat in front of her as she sat in the lounge chair, watching as the train moved through the industrial areas of Chicago.

So much, he thought, for sexy, willowy, mysterious femme fatales.

Joel nodded at the bartender and moved toward the center of the lounge car. He took a seat across from, but further down the aisle from, the older white woman. When she looked up, he smiled and nodded.

Strangers in the night, he thought. Besides, I’m not into chubby senior citizen white women. He guessed she was at least 50, with a full chest and full, but not fat, legs.

Kathy Terranova noticed the young Black man enter the lounge car. Surreptitiously, she watched as he ordered his drink. He was quite handsome with his shaved head, Fu Manchu mustache, and goatee. His skintight jeans emphasized the fullness of his butt and suggested a respectable package. He wore a gray T-shirt with the tail out, no socks, and his well-worn sneakers. He looked to be in his early thirties.

Kathy was returning from spending a month in Chicago with her daughter. The last weeks of her pregnancy and the birth of her new grandbaby had been difficult. Annie, her daughter, appreciated her mother’s help. Kathy enjoyed watching the affectionate interplay between her son-in-law and her daughter. They cared for each other. She sighed, recalling when she and her husband were openly affectionate like their daughter.

Now she was traveling from the hustle and bustle of caring for a new life back to her mundane life in California. She lived most of her adult life in a seaside community called Aptos on the Monterey Bay. Even though John had to take an unexpected early retirement at 60 because of heart problems, they lived a good life. On the downside, his illness adversely affected their sex life.

Restless for a moment, Kathy shifted in her chair and recrossed her legs. It had been trying for her at first. At 50, she felt like she was in the prime of her sexual life. However, over time, and with the liberal use of toys, she managed. However, she felt an itch for an adventure.

As she watched Joel take his seat, a faint tug of memory took her back 32 years to Derek and their baby. She shook herself.

Now, where did that come from? She thought. She smiled and nodded back at Joel.

“Not much to see here,” Kathy said, “just old factories and dilapidated buildings.”

“And thus it is around most train stations,” Joel said, waxing poetic, “surrounded by the flotsam and jetsam of another era.”

“Oh my,” Kathy tittered, “you sound like a poet.”

“Oh my God, no,” Joel laughed, “that one phrase exhausted my entire poetic repertoire.”

Joel surveyed the full-figured white woman. She wore her gray-streaked reddish-brown hair in a tight bun at the back of her head. Faint crow’s feet around her eyes and laugh lines around her mouth added maturity to her face. Her chest was full and hung heavily. She wore a knee-length floral button-up dress. As she crossed her legs, he caught a glimpse of her full pink thighs.

“Well, since we are the only ones here and we have a similar interest in slum architecture, why don’t you join me?”

Kathy was a little surprised at herself for being so forward. However, he seemed harmless enough, and the bartender was standing behind the bar, not 30 feet away.

Besides, she thought, he looks interesting. Kathy was not in the habit of picking up men. However, a month away from her husband and watching the affection between her daughter and her husband left her feeling a little lonely.

Joel was a little surprised at the sudden invitation, but figured, what the hell, I’m not going to do anything today anyway.

For the next few hours and several drinks, the two strangers chatted about their families, their travel preferences, and the state of the industrial slums around Chicago.

Kathy admitted to being a white-knuckle flyer. After a terrifying flight from San Francisco to Chicago, she had elected to take the train home. A little embarrassed, Joel shared his fantasy of the Orient Express.

“Well, there is no way I could be confused with a dark-haired, mysterious foreign beauty,” she laughed as she recrossed her legs. “I’m from California, for god’s sake!”

She was on her third Seven and Seven, well past her usual limit. She was aware she was showing more leg than she should. However, she was enjoying the young man’s company and the opportunity for some innocent flirtation.

“Don’t be offended! I’m not suggesting anything untoward with you!” Lord! I’d better slow down my drinks. The last thing I want is for this old White woman to think I’m hitting on her.

“Oh!” Kathy teased, “You have something against red-headed White women?”

She covered her mouth with her hand and coquettishly tittered. He’s cute. He DOES remind me of Derek!

Joel laughed. He leaned forward. His hand lightly touched her knee as he made a point.

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

Kathy was aware of the warmth of his hand on her knee. She considered asking him to move it. Maybe I should just turn and let it fall off. Ultimately, she took no action.

“A little,” she said.

Kathy had not had this much fun in years. Despite the difference in years, there was a connection. Kathy even felt comfortable enough to do a little flirting. She turned her chair so that she faced Joel and crossed her legs at the ankle. She knew that caused her skirt to rise and show off a little thigh. She imagined the stories she could tell her bowling team about flirting with this handsome young Black man.

Joel found Kathy exciting and personable. Their conversation was eclectic. He noticed that Kathy was flirting a little. She touched him a little more than was necessary. Her skirt had ridden high on her thighs. Rather than look away, he made a point of complimenting her on her legs.

“By the way, you have great legs.”

He was not drunk, just high enough to let some of the natural male/female cautiousness slip.

His reward was a flirtatious giggle and a perfunctory tug on her skirt. “Stop! They’re too fat!”

“I know you probably haven’t a lot of experience with Black men, but they like their women with a little meat on their bones!”

Yes, I have, Kathy thought. Thirty-two years ago, I had a Black boyfriend. He told me I had a sista booty!

She flashed back to their stolen sweaty trysts. He was her first. He took her from a giggling, chubby teenager to a woman who loved the feel of a cock in her pussy. Together, they explored the mysteries of sex. They progressed from oral sex to doggie style, which was still her favorite.

They proceeded to having sex with friends in the same room. That led to one terrifying but intensely exciting night when they partner swapped.

All of that ended when she discovered she was pregnant.

Her family never approved of her interracial relationship. Their incipient liberalism forced them to allow it. However, an interracial child was a bridge too far. An abortion was out of the question for her religious family. They shipped her off to a distant aunt. There she had her baby and put it up for adoption. She never saw Derek or the baby again.

Mentally, Joel tried to picture her as the redhead she said she once was. He imagined her nude with red hair lying on the pillow and her pussy covered by a thick, matching thatch.

Night fell as the two chatted. The coach swayed gently as the train moved through the darkened landscape. The whistle moaned as the train made its way past the numerous rail crossings. The faint clickety-clack of the wheels on the rails provided the backdrop to their conversation.

“Look, I’ve enjoyed our conversation, but this old lady needs to get some rest.”

Kathy’s words were slurred. Despite enjoying the company of this sexy Black man, she needed sleep.

“Same here,” Joel said, “perhaps we can have breakfast together.”

“I’ll have you know I’m NOT that kind of woman,” she said with feigned haughtiness and a playful smile.

“What? I don’t...! Oh!” He laughed loudly, causing the bartender to glance at them. “I wasn’t suggesting you sleep with me! I meant...!”

“So, you have something against sleeping with White women?”

Kathy felt playful. She enjoyed her young friend’s chagrin.

The last time Kathy was this high was after her bowling team won the championship. She felt all giggly and warm.

She looked at the young man speculatively. An image of a sweaty encounter with his dark skin on top of her white skin flashed through her mind. She mentally shook herself.

Watch it, girl, she thought, you’re about to lose it.

She figured it was her fingers again tonight.

Befuddled by the alcohol, Joel was slow on the uptake. He was not sure if she was serious or just being playful. He decided to take a chance. He stood, resting his hand on the back of the chair to balance himself. He affected a deep bow and offered Kathy his hand.

“Milady, it would be my pleasure to share my bed with you.”

In a moment of clarity, Kathy had second thoughts. I suggested to this stranger that I wanted to spend the night with him.

Kathy took his hand and stood up. She was unsteady on her feet and had to grab the back of her chair for balance.

“Whoa! I have had more of those seven and sevens than I usually have.”

That devilish thought pushed itself into her mind again. ‘It would be interesting to spend some private time with this sexy young guy.’ She glanced down at his crotch. That way lies danger, she thought.

The train hit a rough stretch of track, causing the car to rock more. Kathy pitched forward into his arms. Joel’s hands shot out and accidentally encountered her soft breasts.

Their lips were inches from each other. Their eyes locked. Joel leaned forward and lightly touched his lips to hers. At the same time, he squeezed her soft breast.

Kathy groaned, her tongue flicked out and traced the outline of his lips; her hand snaked between them and squeezed his cock.

Joel’s tongue played with the tip of Kathy’s tongue. Simultaneously, he cupped her ample ass. He lustfully moaned as Kathy massaged his package.

Cold air blowing across her bottom startled Kathy when Joel raised her skirt and grasped her pantied butt with both hands. She glanced up at the wide-eyed bartender staring at them. She brought both her hands to his chest and gently pushed him away.

“I’m going to give you about 15 minutes to stop that,” Kathy giggled drunkenly.

Joel smiled to himself. The old girl was just high enough to want a little action, he thought.

“Only 15 minutes,” he asked. “I need much longer than that. My place or yours?”

“You are terrible,” Kathy slurred. With that, she straightened her dress. She looked over at the smirking bartender and winked. “Your place!”

Chapter 2

Kathy leaned against the door to the bedroom on the train. Her dress lay in a puddle at her feet. Her bra was undone, hanging from her shoulders, and her panties were soaked.

Joel, wearing just his boxers, cupped her ass as they kissed. Their tongues dueled, sliding back and forth from mouth to mouth. Their bodies gyrated with their crotches plastered against each other.

Joel slipped his hands into the elastic of her fullback panties and pushed them down over her ample ass. He grabbed her ass in both hands and squeezed.

Incongruously, Kathy thought of her husband. She put her hands on Joel’s chest and pushed him back. She swayed drunkenly, caught between the lust she felt for this young Black man and the love she felt for her husband of 30 years.

Joel stumbled back, his legs bumping against the edge of the bed in the tight confines of the compartment.