Who in her right mind wanted to have sex in an airplane bathroom? Not I. Mrs. Weston didnât bring her little girl Cass up for groping in crowded, dirty toilets. For the erotic trip of a lifetime, Iâd discovered something better. A luxury train through eastern European mountains.
The tiny country of Rosnaya had two things going for itâa famous brandy made by the local monks and the train voyage through the Fyalin Pass. Iâd studied the brochures for hours planning this trip. None of them mentioned the Fyalin Bore, although it drew most of the rail passengers to Rosnaya. Nor did they describe how hedonists the world around had discovered the boreâs greatest appeal. Namely, the tunnel that plunged the cars into total darkness and kept them there for half an hour. More than enough time for the most delicious sex with the perfect stranger. A mile-high club on land.
Today, Iâd boarded the train. Now, I only needed to find the right partner. The dining car was starting to fill as I made my way toward it. Several people had already paired off, each of the participants sporting a ring on one middle finger. The signal that theyâd come here for sexual adventure. I twisted the gold band around my own finger and searched the crowd.
I felt the man before I saw him. A vague tingling at the back of my neck alerted me that I was being watched. I turned my head and found him. Sitting at a table by himself, he smiled when I met his gaze, and lifted his hand to show me his own ring. I couldnât really call him handsome. His nose had a bend to itâevidence of an earlier break. He had the deepest, blackest eyes, though, with thick lashes and laugh lines at the corners. He studied me with that dark gaze as I approached the table, and my stomach did a little flip. Unless something changed, this man and I would be having hot, anonymous sex inâ¦I checked my watchâ¦in not much more time than it took to down a glass of the local liquor.
He rose when I got near, and pulled out the chair across from his. I sat and waited until he sat down before offering my hand.
âDiane Johnson,â I said, using the name Iâd made up for this trip. âAnd, youâreâ¦â
âIâm not as good at lying as you are, so I wonât bother with my name.â
He didnât say it with anger. More as a matter of fact that heâd expected me to lie about my identity but didnât want to make the effort to remember an untruth. He gazed at me evenly as I fidgeted. It seemed I hadnât planned this as carefully as Iâd thought.
âSo,â I said after a moment. âWhat will I call you?â
âYou wonât need to call me anything.â He motioned for the steward. When the man in uniform appeared, my stud-to-be said something in a language I didnât understand. The other man nodded and disappeared.
âWhat did you say to him?â I asked.
âI ordered us some brandy. Itâs traditional before we enter the bore.â
âHave you made this trip before?â
âNever.â
The steward approached with two snifters of brandy and set them on the table. When Dark Eyes signed the check, the man disappeared again.
The man across from me lifted his drink. âTo new friends.â
I joined his toast. âNew friends.â
He took a drink, staring at me over the rim of his glass as he did. I sipped at the liquor and let it zing down the back of my throat.
âSo,â my man said. âHow are you enjoying Rosnaya so far?â
âItâs interesting.â
His nostrils flared oh, so slightly. A sign of masculine interest. âItâll get more interesting in a few minutes.â
âWhereâ¦â I let my voice trail off. Where should we fuck? sounded too crude. Your cabin or mine? too trite.
âIâm sharing a sleeper with my friend,â he said. âWhat about you?â
I took a drink of my brandyâmore than Iâd sipped before. âIâm alone.â
âWeâll go there.â
I nodded.
The steward yelled something I didnât understand. I looked to my partner.
âLast call before the tunnel,â he said. âFinish your drink.â
Just then, another man appeared at our table. A blond. He clapped the first man on the shoulder and sat next to him. âWhoâve you got here?â
âShe says her name is Diane. What happened to your date?â
âSaid she recognized a friend.â The blondâs speech held a distinct Australian accent. âTurned tail and ran âs more like it.â
âFrightened her off, did you?â
The blond grabbed his friendâs drink and finished it. He set the empty snifter back on the table. âWretched luck.â
Dark Eyes turned to me. âHow adventurous do you feel?â
âMe?â
âNo one sitting next to you, love,â the Aussie said.
They both sat, looking at me. One blue pair of eyes and one black. Were they offering a threesome?
Oh, good Lord. Two men. Two sets of hands. Two mouths. Two cocks. Iâd expected adventure, but nothing like that.
Well, why the hell not? Although Iâd never been a prude, Iâd never experienced anything like more than one man at once. Together, theyâd likely have more stamina than one man, and I stood a good chance of finding a really big tool. I could suck the smaller one deep into my mouth while the other one entered me from behind. My pussy did a happy dance thinking of the various combinations. One man in my sex while the other teased my clit. I almost melted with anticipation at the image.