Chapter 2

David Barry awoke with a start. Was that a dog licking his face? Surely not – he didn't own a dog. Then he felt a hand groping his crotch through his pants.

He opened his eyes to see Tiffany's gorgeous blue eyes searching his face. Her tongue was swirling around his ear.

He looked around at unexpected surroundings – the inside of a sleek, modern railway car. Slowly, his sleepy fog began to dissipate.

"Um, Tiff," he said, wiping sleep-induced drool from the corner of his mouth, "isn't this sort of a public place to be doing that?"

"Haven't you ever seen 'Risky Business', silly? The scene from the train?" she asked.

Dave's erection began to stir. It was a double whammy – Tiff's gentle manipulation of his awakening boner, and the salvo of sexual innuendo that she had just fired across his bow. He knew well the mid-1980's movie that launched Tom Cruise's career. It was before his time, but it was a classic.

He and Tiffany had just consummated their loving, no-longer-teacher-and-student relationship the prior Friday night, after Tiffany's high school graduation ceremony. Now, on Monday morning, Tiffany was implying that she wanted to have sex with him on the Amtrak train to Washington, DC.

"Um, sweetheart," he answered, "THEY waited until there were no people on the train."

The two of them were traveling as candidate and sponsor to the annual National Chemistry Contest. Their first class car was emptier than the economy cars, but there were about half a dozen other people scattered throughout the compartment.

"Dave," she said, feeling wonderful about using his first name rather than 'Mr. B.', "this place may NEVER empty out. Let's take a chance. And besides, we have a blanket."

Dave looked down and found a pleasant revelation. Tiffany's groping of his cock through denim was concealed from public view! A navy blue synthetic wool blanket was spread across their laps. Though it was the first week of June, the railway provided blankets for travelers year-round. Most used it for sleep – Tiffany had other designs in mind.

"You're not just a 'book smart' young lady," he smiled, "you're practical, too!"

Dave leaned his head against her shoulder, trying to shake off the grogginess. He looked outside at the scenery passing by. The tracks were running through farm country. He loved the scenes from the countryside – green fields as far as the eye could see, dotted with white farm houses and old red, painted barns beside towering, dingy grayish white silos.

It was the time of year when the crops had recently burst through the soil. They seemed to reach for the sky with the elation of new life. Dave mused that he had a newfound sense of the same sort of elation. Tiffany was the sunshine that warmed his body and soul, causing him to spring forth – in more ways than one.

"Still deciding?" she asked, bursting into his wandering thoughts.

"Tiff, I'm your man. Like we decided the other night, whatever we want to do together is okay – the sky's the limit."

"NO limits," she corrected him with a smile, this time giving voice to her version of the rules.

"No limits," he agreed, "just no jail time. I have a feeling the school board would frown upon that. But I think we can manage to avoid prosecution."

The pressure of her hand on his groin immediately increased. Dave wasn't sure whether it was her hand or his cock that had moved – probably a little of both.

Tiffany likewise felt the movement of Dave's prick under her palm. Her own sexual excitement was beginning to dampen her panties. But her sense of awe and wonder at this newfound freedom within a finally-established relationship also gave her excitement of a more spiritual sort.

Dave leaned toward Tiffany and kissed her gently on the crown of her head. The fresh scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils. He noticed the gentle movement of her golden locks as he released his breath. "Love is indeed a potent drug, sharpening each of the senses," he thought silently.

Continuing to brush light kisses on her head, Dave moved his hand under the blanket to Tiffany's knee. She released a sigh of pleasure at this gentle contact.

He began to slowly massage her knee through her pants leg. He then caressed her thigh, then slowly moved his hand down toward the crotch of her pants.

Tiffany instinctively moved her knees apart to give him better access. He proceeded to gently massage her nether region through her jeans. She began to arch toward his fingers. "Mmmmm," she whispered to him, "that feels SO good!"

Dave was pleased to please her. She was doing a good job of pleasing him with her own gentle, manual probing of the front of his trousers.

"My little friend is dying to escape," he confessed.

Tiffany's hand, still under cover of the blanket, deftly unzipped his fly. She then unfastened the button at the top of his fly. He raised his butt off the seat to allow her to pull his pants and underwear down slightly down, just far enough to free his penis from its confines, but not far enough to show any visible difference below the hem of the blanket.

Their fellow passengers were none the wiser. Tiffany began stroking Dave's freed erection. She felt like purring. He felt like cumming. "Not too fast," he advised, "I don't want to mess up their blanket."

"So where else will would you like to make your deposit?" she asked with a glint in her lovely blue eyes, meanwhile licking her lips in provocation.

"Tiff – you don't know what you're DOING to me!" he whispered loudly through clenched teeth.

Feeling his cock pulsing in her grip, she replied, "I think I have a pretty good idea. About the same as you're doing to ME!" His fingers continued to stoke her fire, though still muted by denim.

As if reading her mind, Dave reached up and gently unzipped the zipper of her jeans, then unbuttoned the fastener at the top. She raised up to allow him to ease her jeans off her hips. Both now were naked from just below the belly button to halfway down the thigh, covered by a light blanket on a very public train.

Dave wasted no time in travelling the path from knee to crotch this time. He reached his fingers straight toward her lower torso, grazing her landing strip before reaching her most sensitive spot. Tiffany knew what was coming (no pun intended), but couldn't suppress a pleased sigh as his index finger and thumb caressed her vaginal lips and gently squeezed her clitoral nub. As she became wet enough, he slipped first two fingers and then a third deep inside her slippery tunnel.

Anyone sitting close to them might have notice the mixed aroma of their mutual sexual excitement. Thankfully, nobody was within four rows of their seat. The sound of her soft moans didn't travel quite that far.

Tiffany's eyes fluttered shut as she enjoyed an unhurried finger fuck. Dave, however, was feeling a more urgent need for release. "Better slow it down, baby, or I'm gonna cum on the blanket, right here, right now," he whispered urgently.

"Where was it you wanted to make that deposit?" she responded gleefully.

"It'll be too obvious if you stick your head under the blanket. Better have you sit on my lap – but not 'til YOU'RE ready."

"It's a long way to Washington," she cooed, "we can take care of you now and still have plenty of time for you to play some more with me."

Dave's heart was as soft as his dick was hard. Here he had wanted to take his time to please her, and she was instead intent on pleasing him.

Just then, Tiffany draped her jean-clad leg over his. He continued to probe with his fingers and she continued to stroke with her hand. He slid a fourth finger gently into her loosened feminine slit. The blanket continued to keep the operation covert.

Dave glanced around the car. An elderly lady near the front caught his gaze and smiled at him. "Does she know what's going on?" Dave thought. He breathed a sigh of relief as the woman looked down.

"All's clear," Dave whispered, in case Tiffany had followed his gaze.

Tiffany was unconcerned with anything but pleasing her man. She lifted her buttocks up off the seat to move toward him. She noticed that her rear end had stuck lightly to the fabric, and wondered whether it was from sweat produced by this pleasurable exercise, or from liquid of another sort.

Keeping the blanket in place and her leg draped over his, with her hand still gripping his erect penis, Tiffany positioned herself, facing away from him, over Dave's shaft. She moistened his glans with a sexy rub around her sopping wet slit.

She turned her head to see Dave's pleased expression. "Incoming!" she whispered as she impaled herself on his pole.

The penetration was fast and sure. He was in to the hilt in one quick instant. Dave and Tiffany separately marveled at their warm, snug fit. "I could stay here forever," she coaxed unashamedly.

Instinctively, his hands went up to massage her breasts in affirmation. He was momentarily surprised that her tits were covered by her bra and sweatshirt. Then he remembered where they were. He immediately dropped his hands to his sides.

Tiffany grasped his hands and pulled them back up to her chest. "I don't CARE who sees!" she whispered to him. She started to gently rock on his cock.

Dave was wise enough not to directly contradict her. He offered an alternative instead. "I have a better idea," he said, "and it will be more discreet."

He moved his hands to the bottom of her sweatshirt, then raised them upward along her back, but INSIDE her sweatshirt. "Good idea," she immediately encouraged.

He deftly released the clasp of her bra. "Even better!" she murmured.

To both tease and please, he didn't go immediately for her breasts, but kept his hands on her back for the moment. He began a gentle massage of her shoulders, kneading the taut muscles. Her gymnastics activities certainly kept her in shape, Dave noted mentally.

Their gentle coital rocking matched time with his massage of her back. He kissed her, almost primly, on the back of her head. He then massaged further down the sides of her back, where her feminine curves tapered inward between shoulders and hips.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, the angle of Dave's hands wrapped far enough around her torso to tickle her. A loud laugh escaped Tiffany's lips. Six pairs of eyes were suddenly fixed upon them.

Dave froze. No rocking, no massaging.

He lay his head on her shoulder, this time not out of tenderness but out of deception – not to deceive Tiffany, but to deceive their fellow passengers. Nothing is going on here but a bit of innocent snuggling, his actions seemed to say.

Tiffany reacted differently to the sudden intrusion. Her pussy was already drenched from their progress thus far, but now she was absolutely ACHING with excitement and need as the other passengers watched them. She urged Dave onward with a wiggle of her ass, stirring his prick within her depths.

Dave was thankful that the other passengers seemed to lose interest quickly. Her laughter had stopped no sooner than it started, and perhaps his deception had lulled them into complacency. He obviously wasn't hurting her, so nobody seemed to think it was their business.

Tiffany had not stopped her wiggling, writhing movements. In fact, they had intensified. Now that the coast was clear, Dave reached one hand around her torso to gently pressure her clitoral hood between his thumb and forefinger. It was a gentle press, designed to create an appetite for more.

He reached the other hand around the other side of her torso, inside her sweatshirt, to run a finger up and down the youthful but substantive cleavage between her breasts. Again, the objective was to make her hungry for more.

On both counts, Dave's intentions hit their mark. Tiffany's squeezed her legs together to increase the pressure on her clit, giving Dave a penile squeeze in the process. She likewise grasped Dave's elbow, planting his hand squarely on her left tit, the more sensitive of the two.

"Lean forward," she commanded Dave quietly. He acquiesced without comment.

"I set out to please YOU," she whispered hoarsely, "but you've got me so stoked, I'm ready to cum. I want you to make your deposit – NOW!"

Dave's gentle rocking quickly became as urgent as Tiffany's wiggling and writhing. Bystanders be damned, there was no holding back!

He kissed her neck to express the tenderness his voice couldn't produce. The only sounds were the squishy friction between penis and vagina, and the slapping of hips against ass. Both Dave and Tiffany were so lost in their enjoyment of each other, neither noticed the same elderly lady staring at their gyrating blanket with a sly, appreciative grin.

They were building together toward a mutual crescendo. Dave's strumming of Tiffany's clit and massaging of her breast grew proportionally to the frenzy of their thrusts. Tiffany flashed him an "I love you" hand signal from American Sign Language. Dave knew the sign, formed by the pinky, thumb and index finger. "What a girl – what a WOMAN!" he told himself.

Dave could contain his surging semen no longer. He felt the constriction, the pleasant throbbing, the rapid unfurling of imminent orgasm washing over him. "I'm cumming, Tiff!" he cried in hushed tones.

"Me, too!" she squealed, not nearly as hushed as her lover. And she was indeed cumming. Dave felt her constrictions urging him on to final release. His own climax spewed uncontrollably, shaking him to the foundation of his emotional and physical being. Not just a few spurts, but spurt after spurt after spurt. Had he been counting, he might have reached a dozen or more blasts of first his seminal fluid and then the dry heaves of his cock continuing to convulse.

As he felt her rocking spasms subside, Dave leaned his head briefly against her back. Finally catching his breath, he confessed to her, "Tiff, I can't ever remember cumming that long in my life! Our first time may have been the hardest, but this was the longest."

Tiffany was still in a hormone-induced haze. Her head fell back onto his shoulder, golden locks spilling past his ear. Her breasts still heaving, Dave knew that something special had happened for her as well.

True to his promise to continue to play, he began lazily cupping and fondling her breasts beneath her sweatshirt. As his cock softened and eventually spilled out of her cunt, Dave replaced the missing member with three fingers. No longer in need of release himself, Dave spent the better part of the next hour finding creative ways to covertly give Tiffany additional peaks of pleasure.

Before they pulled jeans into place, zipped zippers, and removed the visual shield of their blanket, Dave found himself with a second erection. Tiffany gladly took him into her over-stimulated love tunnel for a slow, gentle, loving fuck.

At they left the train and walked through Union Station in Washington, DC, Dave's gaze lingered on the back of Tiffany's jeans. He loved the way they hugged the slim curve of her tightly toned ass as she walked.

It dawned on Dave that these jeans were quite different from the baggy pants and sweats that Tiffany used to wear in school. The style was quite sleek and becoming, no longer masking the firmness of her youthful, feminine body.

Dave pondered the conundrum of Tiffany's complex behavior. On the one hand, she avoided being ogled by perverted high school boys, opting to wear frumpy clothes and thick glasses instead. On the other hand, she sometimes played the role of exhibitionist. She had offered up her bare ass for him to spank while she was his student. She had worn nothing under her graduation gown when she came to his house on Friday night. And she had initiated making love with him on a very public train this morning.

"Perhaps there's a common theme," he considered. As he mulled it over, it suddenly became obvious – the common theme was HIM. Perhaps she felt safe when she was with him, safe enough to throw caution to the wind. Whatever the reason, he knew he admired this new-found trait in her.

They walked hand-in-hand to the curb, each pulling a suitcase behind them. Dave hailed a cab outside the building.

While riding in the cab from Union Station to their hotel, Tiffany made an admission that didn't surprise Dave in the least.

"Knowing that the people in the train might be watching – and that we might get caught – was incredibly HOT to me," she confessed.

"Yeah, I sort of gathered that," replied Dave, "our reaction to being watched was a study in contrasts. I was frozen and you were frenzied."

"I couldn't control it – or maybe I didn't want to try. Did it bother you?" Her knitted brow displayed her genuine concern.

"It wasn't your actions that troubled me. It was my fears. I've always been overly concerned about what people think of me, of what I do."

"I don't give a rat's ass about what people think of me!" she laughed, "At least not what strangers on a train think of me. I care a lot about what YOU think of me. Am I twisted to enjoy the rush of possibly being discovered or watched?"

"Twisted? More like heroic! I wish I had the balls you have."

"Um, Dave – that's not quite anatomically correct. I distinctly recall finding a fine pair of gonads on you, and I sincerely hope you've made no such discovery on me," she laughed.

"Goofus!" he chortled, "You know what I mean!"

"Ah, yes, my dear teacher," she answered, "if you'll recall, I've always spoken my mind, often to your chagrin. Perhaps this is the sexual equivalent of that."

"Maybe so. Tell me more," he requested sincerely.

She thought for a moment. Dave could see the light bulb click on in her brain. "The key is for it to come from a position of love, not from humiliation or perversion," she asserted matter-of-factly.

Dave could easily accept her rationale. It was consistent with the theme that he had pondered himself, except he liked her version even better – it was rooted in love, rather than simply in a sense of safety.

"May I help you?" the smartly dressed girl behind the counter asked.

"Two to check in," Dave replied. Tiffany was at his side. She glanced around the hotel lobby, taking in the atmosphere and admiring the décor. This was to be their residence for the next week.

"Driver's license and credit card," requested the clerk succinctly.

Handing these articles to her, Dave mentioned, "You might have two reservations for us: David Barry and Tiffany Criswell. We'll need only one."

Dave waited for the raised eyebrow. He received no such response. "That'll be fine," she answered, "our cancellation policy doesn't charge the deposit until 6PM. You're a full hour ahead of that."

Dave had not been concerned about the deposit – he hadn't even thought about that. He was worried about the appearance of teacher and student sharing a single hotel room.