My friend, George, the sleeping car attendant, teases me with a double entendre private nickname. He calls me "All-Aboard Betty." Let me explain. I have necessarily drawn George into a conspiracy because I need him to achieve my purpose during periodic journeys aboard The Frontier, a transcontinental passenger train. When I'm aboard the Frontier becomes instead the Piece Train. (Apologies to Yusuf Islam. The devil made me do that.)

It is a risqué appellation that alludes to my dalliances as The Frontier makes its leisurely way across the continent. I love sex. I want to fuck and be fucked. It gives me not only great pleasure but also affirmation as an attractive and desirable woman. I do all that I can to assure that I will not "go gently into that goodnight."

I particularly love to fuck much younger men preferably large and well endowed young men. At the same time I don't dismiss for dimension where imagination and enthusiasm compensate. If I can bring them to like minds with me (as I do) I get my greatest pleasure in taking on a pair at the same time. (I may work myself up to a troika one day.) At certain times of the year I've found The Frontier to be a rewarding venue to select and seduce those I choose to bring into my bed and my body.

Thus, George teases good-naturedly, calling me privately "All Aboard Betty." Until now what I tell you has been just between George and me. George is a willing co-conspirator who remains committed to protecting our privacy when my sexual gandy dancers are laying me down and pounding home their spikes of flesh. He also acts as my protector and I can reach him quickly if some asshole sadist or brute tries to hurt me or force me to do something I don't want to; anal sex for example. If you like that you might as well quit reading now because there's no ass-fucking or sadism in my story.

George also facilitates by arranging dining car seating, discrete access to and egress of my compartment, room service and other incidental courtesies that smooth the way for seduction of my chosen partners. On occasion he has also served as photographer and videographer. He has complete access to the entire train and has become an excellent scout for candidates that he knows will please me. In return I compensate George with a generous tip at the end of our journey.

I also treat him to sex that includes cum in my mouth blow job(s), all the sucking, fondling and fingering he wants or that our time allows, jacking off and cumming on me, and all the pussy he can eat; but no fucking. George is quite happy with our arrangement. He is a very big man, 6'4", probably 240 lbs., with big hands, big feet, and a very large thick love muscle. It makes my mouth water and my pussy hot when he takes it out of his pants.

He loves my oral attention to his substantial cock. Not only does he love to suck my nipples and lick my breasts which alone drives me wild, but also he is an exciting and thorough pussy eater. Not being allowed to impale me with his substantial rail splitter, he convinces himself that he thereby remains faithful to his wife. George obviously has every good reason to remain discrete about his services to me and my services to him; so he is willingly bound to me. But he is only a fillip, a morsel, a diversion, a means to an end. He is 49 years old. But for his functionality in achieving my purpose he is outside, above and beyond, the average age range of my preferred sex partners. My main purpose is to give and receive sex; to be kissed, caressed, mouthed, fondled, fingered and fucked to exhaustion by men much younger than George, that I cull from my fellow travelers.

George is also the only person on the Frontier who knows my true age. Certainly my lovers know that I am a mature woman, much older than the young men who happily mount me when I bring them to a fevered pitch of pussy-hungry lust. It thrills me incredibly that I am able to evoke such hunger in men young enough to be my sons or even, in a few cases, my grandsons. But they don't get to know my actual age.

In fact I am 63 years old and retired. I am blessed with good genes and the years have been kind to me. Also I am now single. I exercise and watch my diet. I am a very open and sensual woman; very sexually active and proven desirable. I still turn heads, even the younger men usually take double looks. No young man has turned away when I offered myself. I feel a great sense of freedom since I am no longer fertile. No matter how copious my bucks unload their hot cum into my needy vagina I have no concern about becoming knocked up.

I am 5'6" tall in my bare feet; pretty feet at that; feet that I like to have fondled and kissed; feet that I use to rub an excited penis until it fountains squirts of cum, satiating a happy stud. I have short auburn hair, natural 36D cup with dark protruding nipples. Actually they are generally always hard and in some outfits that I wear can be faintly seen or if not seen through the material, the tips of my nipples are quite easily apparent, pushing against the fabric. In all modesty I have to honestly say I have very fine breasts. They are symmetrical, plump and have remarkably little sag. I have actually made a 19 year-old cum before his first touch, by simply showing them to him, slung like ripe tropical fruit in my very sheer black bra; nipples excited, firmly erect and quite on display Nothing has been added or subtracted from that with which Mother Nature endowed me.

I really enjoy provocative clothes like "fuck me" heels, short skirts, sheer blouses, revealing dresses and bras and plunging neckline dresses, pretty much anything that I can legally get away with; displaying tantalizing bits of my still fairly firm body. As for under my clothes or in the bedroom, I love to wear all kinds of sexy lingerie, sheer or lace bras, stockings and garters. I have two criteria in selecting underpants; sexy and providing easy access within.

My eyes are brown, my skin pink-white Northern European, a mixture of Anglo-Saxon, Celtic and Norman French bloodlines. My face is not wrinkled, save for slight crow's feet at the corners of my mouth and eyelids; my lips are smooth, moist and very kissable. My waist has thickened only a bit since my younger years. My behind is still shapely and proud and has not broadened much over the years. My belly is thankfully still toned and not droopy but just a bit rounded. I have an elongated "inny" naval. Some of my lovers, the perverts, enjoy putting their tongues in it, or the heads of their cocks or if we are masturbating together, squirting it full of cum. My thighs are full but not fat. I love to show off my trim smooth and blemish free legs and flash glimpses of thigh and crotch; the stuff that leaves voyeurs breathless and stroking. I love to be kissed and licked on the so soft apex of my inner thighs; just on either side of my pussy lips; but of course that does not exclude ministering to my pussy. That is in a category by itself. All Aboard

I never wait for the crowd when I board. Shortly before boarding is announced George, knowing I will be making a trip, comes to escort me to his car. I don't want to draw attention to this so I wait away from the crowd and slip onto the boarding platform unobtrusively when George comes for me.

"Miss Betty, you surely are looking fine," he says quietly as we make our way to our car. "I think this is going to be a good trip. I've been looking over this crowd and I think there several young men who are right for you."

"You know I'm eager, George," I said. "So I'm looking forward to seeing them."

Although alone I book a three person compartment so that my multi-partner assignations have reposing area to maneuver when the action gets going. I always book a fictional companion who does not show up so that the customer service staff don't quibble with me about taking a two person compartment. Waiting, I busy myself settling in. Soon after the train begins to move George knocks softly on my compartment door and I welcome him in with a warm mouthy kiss with plenty of tongue as well and a grope of his big cock bulging in anticipation behind the restraint of his clothes.

"Now don't get me stirred, up," he says, hand still fondling my beast. "I've got some good news for you. You'll be seated for lunch at 12:30, table for two. Your lunch partner is about my height but not quite as heavy as I am."

My little pussy sighed and I felt warmth from the blood gathering in my sex. I knew I would soon be damp. George departed to go about his train business and I tried to read. But I was too excited. I took a shower and put on my white lace bra, tap, tap, tapping and pinching each nipple until they poked out proudly bulging the fabric. Frissons of pleasure spread warmth in my groin as I fondled my nipples. I made up my face carefully but with restraint. I did not want to look like a Kabuki dancer. While still nude I checked my pussy feeling the outer lips to see if I needed a maintenance shave. I murmured to her that we were going to have fun and bring her some nice stiff cock to swallow. She contracted and sent a warm wave radiating out through my insides to signal that she was very anxious to engage.

I chose a white long sleeve blouse made of sheer cotton fabric; unless I wore a camisole a viewer is able to see, through the gauzy cloth, my bra and the inviting pots of flesh it held and my nude midriff down to my skirt waist. It has a zipper front so that I can show as much or as little cleavage as I choose and, not incidentally, allows ready access to my treats within. I went with some cleavage as this was lunch, not a nightclub. I was a bit chilly so I toned down the see-through blouse slightly by putting a light, button front sweater over my shoulders. I wore a black skirt with hemline at mid-calf. On one side there was an open seam that extended to just above my knee. The seam above, like my blouse, closed with a concealed zipper that could be unzipped nearly to the waistline if I wished to ease access to my groin and the treasure between my legs. I wore my white lace thong and seamless flesh-tone nylons held up with garters.

He was already at the table when I entered the dining car. He was tall, as George told me earlier. He was not a Nordic god but he was an average decent looking young man. In particular he had thick biceps and broad shoulders. He stood as I approached. He waited until I spoke first and offered my hand to shake. I thought that a bit quaint and courtly and it pleased me. My small hand disappeared in his big hard paw. He flashed a smile filled with beautiful white teeth.

"I'm Betty, " I said.

"Betty, I'm Arnie Carlson. The host did not tell me I'd be dining with a lovely lady."

We took our seats.

"The host didn't tell me the man I'd be sitting with would be hitting on me before I got seated." I delivered my barb with a smile.

He grinned. "I've just set a new record for rejection," he said.

"Perhaps," I replied, "You may buy me a glass of white wine and maybe I'll listen to the rest of your pick up routine." I flashed more warm smile.

The banter moved on. He bought a bottle of wine and we drank most of it. He turned out to be 28 and was already a 12 year veteran and captain of a west coast fishing boat that plied the dangerous waters of the Alaska gulf. He was not married and not in any substantial relationship.

I quickly knew he would be one of my railroad lovers, if he passed muster in the cock department. I adjusted my sweater to provide a better view of my bosom. As we chatted during lunch his gaze kept dropping to my chest and it became obvious that he started doing it on purpose.

Finally I said disingenuously, "Arnie, did I drop something on my blouse? You keep looking down there."

He smiled broadly and answered with equal false candor, "No I'm not looking at anything you dropped. I'm looking at something that I can't make out well enough to tell just what I'm seeing. It's the light in here. Nope I can't put finger on it."

I leaned across the table and said quietly, "Why don't we have the rest of this bottle of wine brought to my compartment, if you'd like to join me in, say 15 minutes. Then you may be able to get a grasp on what interests you so."

"Betty that's a great idea. I think if we examine this further we'll be able to straighten it out." Another big smile.

I arose, smiled, turned and sashayed out.

George was in the vestibule of my car when I returned. I grinned and told him about the wine and that I'd hit it off just fine with Arnie and that he would soon be along.

"He's great," I gushed. "We teased and talked innuendo to each other until he made me wet."

Before I could react; being a buzzed with wine, George said, "Here, let me feel." He had my skirt up in a flash and his finger in me and out, skirt back down and proper. Only my flushed features and panting, "Oh!" and the smell of my pussy fluids, would suggest something naughty may have been going on.

"You randy bastard," I said quietly to George, "You will screw up everything if we are seen with your hand up my crotch. When I'm done with Arnie, if you're not too busy, come see me. Now behave. Go get my wine and bring it to the compartment."

Inside I freshened up my make-up, had a pee, cleaned up my thighs where I'd leaked a bit, powdered, brushed my teeth., and spritzed my favorite scent lightly in strategic locations up and down. George came in with the wine and made up one of the sleeper beds.

He had no sooner departed than Arnie was taping discreetly at the door. I was happy to see that, if he was tumescent when he arrived, at least he was not yet visibly erect in his khaki trousers. The last thing I wanted was a guy losing his load when I touched his dick.

"Come sit down here and we'll have another glass of wine." I motioned Arnie to the chair where I wanted him. It was one of two in a set with a small round table. I sat opposite facing him,

"I suppose I should call you Captain Arnie, since you run your own fishing boat."

More smiles, "If you like, but Arnie is my name, and hardly anyone ashore calls me "Captain."

I liked his calm demeanor. He did not appear excited or anxious or even buzzed being alone with me, at my invitation in my compartment with a bed already made up and towels put out as well. I was excited and full of anticipation but had taught myself to go slow; to sublimate my desire to leap on him from where I sat. I have a proven method and I'm determined to stick to it. I wondered if Arnie was, although hormone besotted and not yet 30, as good as I am at maintaining a calm and unheated façade antecedent to foreplay and letting go completely.

"Arnie," I said, "why did you come here to my compartment? What did you think was going to happen?" I like to throw a curve and see what happens.

He looked at me with his damned smile reappearing and without taking his eyes from mine he found his wine stem by feel and took a drink.

"I am curious and I have lots of time on my hands. I had thought to just take in the countryside and think about my next moves, I mean in my business. Then a very lovely lady shows up and makes for a really fun lunch. When you invited me I thought, this is okay Arnie, why not? You might get lucky. So here I am. If you want to fuck I would like that very much. I have a feeling sex with you would be pretty special. If you want to do other stuff but not fuck that would be okay too; not as good but okay. Or if you just want to sit here and titillate each other we can do that. If you change your mind and want none of the above I will still have enjoyed our time together."

Home run, Arnie, I thought. The son-of-a-bitch was a smooth, confident operator. In preparation before he arrived I had unzipped my blouse several inches and pulled the collar wide to bring plenty of cleavage into view. I had also unzipped the slit in the hem of my skirt to well above my knee. So when Arnie was talking I slowly opened my knees hoping that the view of my naked pudenda would cause him to lose his cool. No luck. I had only managed to arouse myself further. My self-discipline was being put to the test.

I took a drink of wine.

"Arnie," I said, "I am going to let you fuck me. I want you to fuck me. You can fuck me on two conditions. And Arnie, I am a very, very good fuck."

"What are your conditions, Betty?"

"First, this afternoon we will play but not fuck."

"Okay, I will like that," he said.

"Second, you must agree that we will find another willing young man and the three of us will have a two on one, you and another guy both doing me at the same time. Then you can fuck me. If you want to do anything with each other that's okay with me but only after the two of you do me. I get to watch and play with you if the two of you get going. Everything goes except sadism and anal sex." I gave him a wide stance clear view of my crotch.

"Betty you have a very pretty pussy," was his non-sequiter reply.

I closed my knees together. "Arnie, I'm glad you think my pussy is pretty. I wouldn't show it to you if I didn't think so myself. And I want to see what you have between your legs. But nothing is going to happen until you agree to my conditions.

"So just now no fucking."

"Right, no fucking until we get another guy"

"You are a very interesting lady," Arnie said. "I did a three-way once but it was me and two women."

"Arnie, you can do me a favor while you sort this out in your mind," I said. "I need you to let me see your cock. If I haven't made you hard yet, take it out and stroke it a bit and try to get it as big as it does when you're just ready to stick it in a pussy."

Still with the damned smile, Arnie stood up, undid his pants and pulled both pants and underwear down.

It was my turn to smile. Arnie was a very good choice.

"That's a helluva nice salmon you've caught there Captain Arnie." I said. I licked my lips salaciously. "I hope you'll agree to a threesome because I think it would be great fun to have that fish swim up my stream and spawn in Lake Betty. Make it stand all the way up for me."

I took a gulp of wine and my hand trembled. I wanted that wonderful cock.

Arnie fondled himself. "I don't like to let myself get too excited when I'm with a willing woman," he said. "Coming too quickly ruins all the fun you can have in foreplay. But I really have had to work at it with you Betty. When you flashed me that sweet little pussy of yours I struggled to keep my dick from taking off on me."

He stopped stroking. "Okay there it is," he said. He stood with his dick sticking up a couple of feet from me. It was not a particularly long dick, certainly no more than 7 inches. But it was thick the way I like very much. I fought for my own control.

"So, are you going to do a threesome with me and a player to be named later?"

"If that's what it takes for you to let me fuck you, I'll go along," he said.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Good, you won't be sorry. So, I have to trust you. Now kiss me."

It was a good kiss that went from parted lips to tongues touching. I rose to my feet and it felt wonderful to feel his powerful arms around me and his big hands pulling me into him. He was so much taller than I am that his dick pushed against my torso. My pussy sent happy signals back to pleasure central.

He broke off the kiss saying, "We've got plenty of time. Take off everything but your bra and thong then lie down on the bed on your belly. You're undies are so sexy"

I did so while he stepped out of his pants and underwear and pulled off his rugby shirt. I drank in the vision of his rangy, sinewy young body, broad chest with no body fat to speak of.

"I'm going to start by running my hands over your skin and also some kisses and licks. Betty, I don't know how old you are and I don't need to know. I am quite sure you're a lot older than I am; that turns me on. I do know, whatever your age, you've got a beautiful sexy body." All of me sent up a cheer for that compliment.

We worked our way through a gourmet menu of sex without penetration. He transported me with kisses and rubbing and licking from my toes to my thighs. Then he shifted to my head and worked down my back to my bum, running his hands over my skin, kissing my body repeatedly, kneading the cheeks of my ass. Then he had me turn over and did it all over again. I was in heaven when he did my titties, first with my bra on, then off; fondling them gently, rolling my hard nipples under his palms, pleasure pinching and pulling on them, flicking them with his tongue, nibbling them, then giving each of those happy ladies an orgasm producing suck.

I writhed, I humped, I balled my fists and willed my arms to my sides lest I grab at my yearning pussy and break the exquisite spell. I groaned and pleaded for mercy; for him to stop, for him to continue. I was amazed at his control. All this pleasure and he had yet to approach my crotch with an inquiring finger; not even a sniff as far as I could tell. I became bathed in sweat, my neck and chest flushed. Then I felt his warm breath as he breathed on my crotch. My pussy sang.

"Do you want me to stop?" He smiled at me when I opened my eyes. His eyes were alive with lust and I imagine he saw the same in mine. How he kept himself from jacking, or sticking it in my mouth or trying to hump me I don't know. He had been praying at the altar of my body for an hour, kneeling beside the bunk.

"No, no, no. My pussy," I croaked hoarsely. "My pussy, my cunt, my snatch needs you. You bastard. Don't you dare stop now."

"I like to save the best for last. I am truly fascinated with your cunt. Here, slide around sideways. Here's a pillow. That's it, now lean back. Your back is okay? Now put one leg on this side and, that's right, the other one like that. Pull up your knees and make your feet comfortable on the edge of the bunk? Okay good, now I can have a good look at that little beauty."

"Crap," I said, "Don't just look, do something!"

My pussy was fully stimulated. My outer lips puffed and my inner labia swollen and parted and protruding as well; clitoral veil drawn back and the engorged tip hard erect. I made sufficient coital fluids yet so that everything glistened wet. I was high on a plateau of sexual pleasure and a hair breadth from cumming.

"How is this," he said. I felt a feather light touch on my engorged clit. "Ahhhhhhhh!" I cried out and came, spasms repeatedly shot through my vagina; wave after wave rolled through me as it contracted repeatedly. I grayed out in a shuddering fog of bliss. I clutched my crotch with both hands and more smaller, diminishing orgasms made me twitch and shudder.

"Oops," he said. "I really didn't realize how hot to cum you were."

"K, K, Keep going," I said shakily, "But don't touch my clit like that. It absolutely blows me away."

"Okay, then. You know I am fascinated with your thong. I just love the way the cloth tapes cradle your outer lips and the whole thing frames your vulva. It lifts your outer lips and pushes them out."

As he remarked I felt his fingers as he touched my outer lips, squeezing and pulling them. I liked that a lot.

"Do you think my cock is going to fit in your delicious little cunt," he asked?

"Don't you worry," I said between my sighs and groans, "It will stretch."

"Ok then. Now so you won't be surprised again I'm going to put my mouth on you and suck your labia."

It was exquisite. He must have spent twenty-minutes nibbling and sucking my outer lips, then my inner lips, swirling around my clit. And his hands were busy, fingers and thumbs tucked in between my thighs and his face, fondling my outer lips. I was having waves of little orgasms; never quite coming all the way down; then spiraling up again.

Finally I pushed his face away. I knew if I let him continue I would not be able to stop myself; I would sit on that fat cock and fuck myself silly. I had wet his face with coital fluids that glistened on his nose, lips, chin and cheeks.

"I don't know how you do it," I said. "You've been at it for over an hour and you haven't cum. You haven't even had me touch you. I've never seen a guy who could do that. Did you jack it off in that short time after lunch before you came to me?"

"No, I didn't. I get a lot of stimulation out of providing pleasure to my sex partners. I've just taught myself to wait for a reward."

"I want to see you cum," I said. "Before we get to the main event. I need to know you will cum for me while I suck the other guy and you fuck me. Here, help me move. I've been here with my legs up and spread for so long while you played in Lake Betty that I'm cramped. I slid myself around so I was stretched out on my side. He was still on his knees and now resting back on his haunches. His cock twitched in rhythm with his pulse.

"Kneel up now, Arnie," I said. "Scoot over here." He did and I reached out and took that hot fat salami in my hand, kissed it, licked it and jacked it. He quickly responded falling into a new rhythm that matched my jacking. I slid the glans in and out of my lips. Then I felt his fingers probing for my swollen labia and I could not resist but opened my legs again. He masturbated me as I sucked and licked encouraging him to fuck my mouth. I had to bring him off. I reached his scrotum and fondled it lightly. With that he finally groaned and I pulled my mouth away, jacking him through his orgasm. He squirted and squirted, most of it splattering on my tits. It was more than I could bear and once more I sailed up into bliss as my own orgasm suffused me. I fell back on the bed bathed in sweat. Arnie sat on the floor legs flung out in front of himself, his arms back propping himself from the waist up. His wet cock was softening but the flesh was distended from being so charged with blood that it looked swollen.

I told Arnie I would send for him when I had another young man lined up. He sluiced himself off, dressed and left. I napped. George came by and I gave him the blow job he wanted taking it all in my mouth when he ejaculated, and swallowed it down. Then I slept again into the evening. When I'd rested I showered and dressed for seduction then made my way to the club car. I had George's latest scouting report. It was about 10 p.m. The car was busy but I found a free seat and, smiling, I sat down with the two men and a woman together already there. No sign of Arnie.

It was just that simple. The trio turned out to be mother, father and 22 year old son. Just as George described. I introduced myself and ordered a drink for myself and they accepted when I bought a round for the table as well. They were the Fergusons, Trevor and Alexis and their son Ronald; "call me Ron." They were travelling to the coast where Ron was to begin seminary for the ministry. I hid my disappointment. We chatted about nothing for a time. They were ahead of me, not Ron, but Mr. and Mrs. Both of them were at the jovial candor stage of intoxication.

Next to me, Alexis, who was not a bad looking and amply built matron, leaned close and said in a whisper, "You are a sexy old broad. I'm surprised your blouse isn't soaked. My husband and my son, the wannabe priest, have been drooling over your tits since you sat down."

Of course I had been completely aware that they were fixated on my chest since that was as I intended.

"But you don't need me to tell you that," she continued with a smile. "And I'm not bringing it up because I'm jealous or upset. Actually I should thank you, "You might make Trevor horny enough that I'll get laid tonight. Not likely though, but I can dream, aye? And I'm glad to see Ron's reaction to you too. At least his balls haven't shriveled up because he thinks he's got a vocation to the priesthood. If you're looking for someone to give you a good toss tonight, and it looks like you are, give some thought to my boy here. He's very horny; masturbates all the time. I'm sure he would make up with enthusiasm what he lacks in technique. I'd do him myself but there's that boring taboo about incest."

"He seems a nice young man, Alexis," I told her. Then, completely disingenuous I said, "I'm much too old for Ron."

"Listen Honey," Alexis said, "What is it again? Oh yes, Betty. Betty, we both know a young stallion doesn't care how old the mare is. If she lifts her tail and presents a hot wet cunt, he'll mount her as quickly as he'd do it to a filly."

I was a bit taken aback by this turn of events. Here, was this mother, in crude language, practically shoving her son into my arms and asking me to fuck the daylights out of him. I was intrigued.

Trevor and Ron knew we were engaged in girl talk but they couldn't hear what we said. Both of them watched us with pensive, goofy little smiles.

"I don't want to bring on a moral crisis should he wake up in bed with a woman older than his mother. He'd start in the seminary filled with guilt about his sin." I protested for the sake of appearances.

"He'd get over it pretty quickly, I'm sure. And you'll give him some great memories to arouse himself when he masturbates."

"Has he ever had sex," I asked.

Alexis looked at me thoughtfully. "I'm really not sure," she said finally. "I know from personal experience that he's seen a woman's naughty bits, fondled them and had a blow job orgasm. Fucking a girl or a woman in the pussy; well if he has he hasn't told me. Hasn't done me either"