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“Not quite the Orient Express,” I think as I gaze out onto the busy platform. Instead of truffles and filet mignon, I see the railway staff loading sandwiches, poutine and donuts. I had arrived early to secure a window seat, but this is not air travel, so the carriage is hardly full. Glancing at the tablet next to me, it looks like I will be rereading Dune Messiah, seeing as the movie has put me in a spicy mood.Just as the train is about to leave, a young lady boards and takes the seat opposite mine. At a glimpse, she has a neat figure, not overly distracting. She is slight, with brown hair to her shoulder, brushing on the straps of her short gingham dress. There is an air of Daisy Ridley to her. Maybe this is becoming more like the Orient Express. After having laid her considerable luggage on the empty seats next to her, she acknowledges me with a brief smile and seemingly settles in to check her messages as the train begins to move.Having been on this trip before, I know it will be twenty hours before I can get off. From Toronto, the train rolls west and I am going back to my hometown after finishing my first year of college. It has been a long year, but after weeks of çankaya escort cramming, I am happy to be on holiday for a few months of fun. As the sun begins to set, the landscape broadens into the wide, open, prairie lands which will form the usual view from here.My mind is somewhere amongst the sands of Arrakis when I hear a sigh across from me. “I don’t know if I’m going to enjoy this trip…” she begins, looking pensive.As deep as I am into the reading, I welcome some conversation with a friendly stranger. I put the tablet down and attempt to engage with her. She is certainly a tidy-looking girl, with a pert bosom, and a tight bum when she turned around to arrange her luggage. The dress she is wearing is stylish whilst not hiding much. “I thought it would be something new and different to hop on the train to get away from the city, but now I’m not sure. I feel a little conflicted.”I try to assure her, “Well once you get used to the rhythm, the miles fly by, and you can always get some sleep too. At worst, I could try to entertain you with my banter.”She brightens, “That’s kind of you to offer. I might be in need keçiören escort of some cheering up, or help in forgetting myself.”Her warm manner and occasional smile quickly win me over. It turns out that her name is Lisette and she speaks with a bit of a French accent, probably from Quebec originally. She says she is heading to Winnipeg to stay with a friend. She has finished her studies and is still thinking about what to do next. Going to a new city might help. That is a long journey, whichever way you travel, hence her mood.As the night settles and things become quiet on the train, we keep chatting. She is happy to talk and, luckily for me, has a wide knowledge of pop culture, but also seems a little distracted. I am reminded of the French girl, in the train dining scene in Spectre, with her easy charm and that sexy accent. Now I am not a secret agent, but if I could end up hooking up with her in a train compartment, it would be a fantasy. Most of the passengers in the carriage appear to have dozed off. There are none within listening distance as the conversation abruptly wanders onto what has been bothering her etimesgut escort and, perhaps, why she is eager to leave the city behind for somewhere new.”That slimeball cochon cheated on me,” Lisette reveals, looking sombre, almost distraught. “I was so good to him and he stabbed me in the back.” She absently spills out a few random details of the year-long relationship. “Everything was fine… We were going to have beautiful babies and, one day, live in Japan…”Suddenly a flash of anger comes over her pretty, little face. “It was that bitch blonde girl. I thought she was my friend, but I should never have trusted her.”Then, fixing me with a look of determination, her tone is strong. “Get up. I want to root.”I am slightly taken aback, but she is not accepting a refusal and, said with a French accent, it sure sounds persuasive.We stumble to the restroom. It is small, but roomier than airplane facilities.Lisette is raging and it has transformed into her sexual energy. I can feel her unbridled need to avenge the betrayal. As soon as I fumble the door locked, she flashes me a wild grin, “I hope you are ready,” before grabbing my face and firmly kissing me. Now I am in her hands and will have to follow her moves. My cock needs no second invitation and immediately springs to attention, straining at the pants as she reaches down to assess it. Pretty Lisette kneels and pulls my erection out. I am average size, but right now, feel so engorged and have never been harder, as her slim hand grips me and strokes slowly.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
