Night Train

Karina Devi · 1. Februar 2015

Nachdem ich im Sextraum 2015 Thread gelesen habe, dass offenbar Bedarf an Phantasie oder erotischen Geschichten besteht, ich jedoch selbst in dem Sinne sowas wie einen Sextraum nicht habe, weder schmutzig noch rein , dachte ich mir ich stelle einen Teil bzw. den Beginn einer Story ein.

Diese basiert auf einer privaten Geschichte die vor langer Zeit geschrieben und gefühlt wurde, wenngleich niemals umgesetzt.

Ich habe sie im Sinne der kreativen Freiheit umgeschrieben, allerdings ist sie auf english, da ich diese Sprache beim Schreiben bevorzuge, auch wenn oder gerade weil ich sie nicht perfekt "beherrsche", ebensowenig wie ich das Leben perfekt "beherrsche" und weil ich mich gerne über Korrektheiten hinwegsetze

Night train

Slightly freezing she was moving quickly through the hall of the train station. She didn’t know if it was the light wind, which was tearing at her long brown hair or if the internal vibration was caused by the staring of the men, who were heading like her towards their trains. This fucking shoes!

Her long term boyfriend bought them last time they saw each other in an obviously desperate attempt to fire up their Sexlife.

It were black overknee casadei heels, not banal like all those overknee boots she knew before, but elegant and delicate. As well as super expensive and uncomfortable for a woman who was used to run barefoot or in shoes without much heel. She needed freedom in her movement and as nice as they looked, such heels appeared as limits to her. She didn’t like limits.

Unfortunately, as she was travelling with light luggage, the boots didn’t fit into her little suitcase. She felt them rubbing at her tighs, perfectly covered by a kneelong skirt, her preferred one, which was softly embracing her forms.

She speeded up, she was late to reach her reserved cabin in this overnight train to Milan. Her boyfriend reserved the whole cabin as he didn’t like the idea that she was sleeping in the company of strangers. Actually she was quite happy about that, as she didn’t like it either.

On the last meters, almost having reached the train, she recognized a face. Slightly tanned, expressive, staring at her with dark coal eyes. What she perceived in some milliseconds was a tall man, terribly attractive, who seemed to exude a wildness and sensualism at the same time, which made something deep in her tremble in excitement.

When she stepped with her long leg onto the train stair, the sun had set already, she turned, to see the man again, letting her gaze wander over all those travellers- but he disappeared.

With a strange feeling of disappointment she entered the train, slowly walking along the gangway until she arrived at her cabin. Opening the door, leaving the suitcase on the floor, closing the curtains, just leaving a little gap open. When the train started to move, she sat down with a little sigh.

While the train started to move into the beginning night, somewhen she decided to

haul up the suitcase onto the rack. With an effort she was extending her arms, to place this suitcase into the rack, when she heard the opening of the cabin door, a quiet, scratching sound.

She froze in her movement, holding her breath, her arms extended, standing on her toetips, the suitcase not yet in safe position, her skirt- as she was registering a little horrified- was ridden up. She felt the cold breeze of air on the naked bit of skin which was exposed between the end of her overknee boots and the skirt, while feeling some presence and warmth stopping behind her, after the door have been closed again.

A sweet breath close to her ear and a hoarse, dark voice saying “ May I help you?”

She turned, slowly, her whole body vibrating, to look into this eyes, dark as coal, those eyes she saw before and which now were glowing in excitement. While she was wondering why this man wasn’t polite enough to step next to her to help her, instead of directly behind her and what he was doing here anyway, to her own surprise she felt herself moving the rest of distance towards him until there wouldn’t even been space for a piece of paper between them. Feeling suddenly his strong hands on her hips, feeling his vibrant vitality and his hardness on her pubis, feeling the heat pulsing between them, her eyes fixing his, and with an almost breaking voice, she whispered: “Yes, please”

Without one word he was pressing himself to her, without movement they were standing like this for an endless moment. Pulling her even closer, he felt his erection pulsing against her vulva, being stunned by her green eyes wide open, staring at him in a wild mix of disbelief and desire. He knew she was a little crazy, as crazy as he was, in the first moment he saw her hurrying through the train station, being caught by her presence and something he couldn’t name.

In this moment the cabin door opened and the conductor saying with the bored voice of one processing always the same shit “ tickets please”

Quickly she took distance from him, showing the ticket to the grey-haired conductor while turning her head to him, raising an eyebrow, as if she would be saying “ And now, you? How do you manage this?”.

Confidently he was showing his ticket, the conductor tiredly nodding, turning and leaving the cabin, closing the door behind him.

She was still staring at him, now in total disbelief, while he was closing the curtain to the gangway and stepping with a smile to the rack, pushing her suitcase the last cm into a safe position and then placing himself relaxed on the seats opposed to hers.

She slowly sat down, not saying a word. He waited for her question, how he managed that, but she kept silent.

Then, with an almost arrogant, sphinx-like expression on her face, she slid to the very front of her seat, without interruption her eyes were fixed on him, and she slowly started to open her long legs, her skirt sliding up to her hips, exposing the delicious skin of her beautiful thighs to him.

The intensity between them was almost unbearable.

Exitus · 1. Februar 2015

Vielen Dank. Da fällt mir ein, den Nachtzug Frankfurt-Wien, den vermisse ich schon, im Zeitalter der Lowcost-Hin-und gleich wieder Rückflüge.

Nachdem ich im Sextraum 2015 Thread gelesen habe, dass offenbar Bedarf an Phantasie oder erotischen Geschichten besteht, ich jedoch selbst in dem Sinne sowas wie einen Sextraum nicht habe, weder schmutzig noch rein , dachte ich mir ich stelle einen Teil bzw. den Beginn einer Story ein.
Diese basiert auf einer privaten Geschichte die vor langer Zeit geschrieben und gefühlt wurde, wenngleich niemals umgesetzt.

Ich habe sie im Sinne der kreativen Freiheit umgeschrieben, allerdings ist sie auf english, da ich diese Sprache beim Schreiben bevorzuge, auch wenn oder gerade weil ich sie nicht perfekt "beherrsche", ebensowenig wie ich das Leben perfekt "beherrsche" und weil ich mich gerne über Korrektheiten hinwegsetze

Night train

Slightly freezing she was moving quickly through the hall of the train station. She didn’t know if it was the light wind, which was tearing at her long brown hair or if the internal vibration was caused by the staring of the men, who were heading like her towards their trains. This fucking shoes!

Her long term boyfriend bought them last time they saw each other in an obviously desperate attempt to fire up their Sexlife.

It were black overknee casadei heels, not banal like all those overknee boots she knew before, but elegant and delicate. As well as super expensive and uncomfortable for a woman who was used to run barefoot or in shoes without much heel. She needed freedom in her movement and as nice as they looked, such heels appeared as limits to her. She didn’t like limits.

Unfortunately, as she was travelling with light luggage, the boots didn’t fit into her little suitcase. She felt them rubbing at her tighs, perfectly covered by a kneelong skirt, her preferred one, which was softly embracing her forms.

She speeded up, she was late to reach her reserved cabin in this overnight train to Milan. Her boyfriend reserved the whole cabin as he didn’t like the idea that she was sleeping in the company of strangers. Actually she was quite happy about that, as she didn’t like it either.

On the last meters, almost having reached the train, she recognized a face. Slightly tanned, expressive, staring at her with dark coal eyes. What she perceived in some milliseconds was a tall man, terribly attractive, who seemed to exude a wildness and sensualism at the same time, which made something deep in her tremble in excitement.

When she stepped with her long leg onto the train stair, the sun had set already, she turned, to see the man again, letting her gaze wander over all those travellers- but he disappeared.

With a strange feeling of disappointment she entered the train, slowly walking along the gangway until she arrived at her cabin. Opening the door, leaving the suitcase on the floor, closing the curtains, just leaving a little gap open. When the train started to move, she sat down with a little sigh.

While the train started to move into the beginning night, somewhen she decided to

haul up the suitcase onto the rack. With an effort she was extending her arms, to place this suitcase into the rack, when she heard the opening of the cabin door, a quiet, scratching sound.

She froze in her movement, holding her breath, her arms extended, standing on her toetips, the suitcase not yet in safe position, her skirt- as she was registering a little horrified- was ridden up. She felt the cold breeze of air on the naked bit of skin which was exposed between the end of her overknee boots and the skirt, while feeling some presence and warmth stopping behind her, after the door have been closed again.

A sweet breath close to her ear and a hoarse, dark voice saying “ May I help you?”

She turned, slowly, her whole body vibrating, to look into this eyes, dark as coal, those eyes she saw before and which now were glowing in excitement. While she was wondering why this man wasn’t polite enough to step next to her to help her, instead of directly behind her and what he was doing here anyway, to her own surprise she felt herself moving the rest of distance towards him until there wouldn’t even been space for a piece of paper between them. Feeling suddenly his strong hands on her hips, feeling his vibrant vitality and his hardness on her pubis, feeling the heat pulsing between them, her eyes fixing his, and with an almost breaking voice, she whispered: “Yes, please”

Without one word he was pressing himself to her, without movement they were standing like this for an endless moment. Pulling her even closer, he felt his erection pulsing against her vulva, being stunned by her green eyes wide open, staring at him in a wild mix of disbelief and desire. He knew she was a little crazy, as crazy as he was, in the first moment he saw her hurrying through the train station, being caught by her presence and something he couldn’t name.

In this moment the cabin door opened and the conductor saying with the bored voice of one processing always the same shit “ tickets please”

Quickly she took distance from him, showing the ticket to the grey-haired conductor while turning her head to him, raising an eyebrow, as if she would be saying “ And now, you? How do you manage this?”.

Confidently he was showing his ticket, the conductor tiredly nodding, turning and leaving the cabin, closing the door behind him.

She was still staring at him, now in total disbelief, while he was closing the curtain to the gangway and stepping with a smile to the rack, pushing her suitcase the last cm into a safe position and then placing himself relaxed on the seats opposed to hers.

She slowly sat down, not saying a word. He waited for her question, how he managed that, but she kept silent.

Then, with an almost arrogant, sphinx-like expression on her face, she slid to the very front of her seat, without interruption her eyes were fixed on him, and she slowly started to open her long legs, her skirt sliding up to her hips, exposing the delicious skin of her beautiful thighs to him.

The intensity between them was almost unbearable.

Karina Devi · 1. Februar 2015

Gern.

Das Geheimnis von Phantasie ist, dass man in dem Moment wo man es denkt, schreibt und fühlt, auch erlebt. Insofern ist für mich eine Phantasie zu versuchen nach zu spielen uninteressant, es wäre eine Wiederholung oder aber wohl in den allermeisten Fällen ein Abklatsch, da man in bestimmten Erwartungshaltungen steckt.

Ich weiss jedoch, dass sich da die Geister scheiden, bei dem Thema Phantasie ausleben.

Somit- wenn es den Frankfurt-Wien Nachtzug nicht mehr gibt, oder du generell Flüge nimmst, dann stell ihn dir beim nächsten Flug einfach vor