Intimacy in the Age of Steam Pt. 13

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Hector reflected on just how comfortable he and his fellow commuting gentlemen were getting with Zephyrine. So enjoyable having her there in the railway carriage with them evening after evening, but there was a degree of risk. They had, on occasion, dispensed with more and more of her clothing, even had her naked in the compartment but there were indeed risks at that. How good it had been to go to her house and be naked with her, without risk. They had not only freed her of her clothes, indeed all those encumbrances to their access, view and investigation, but had dispensed with their own as well. They had all been naked together and, with her period imminent, they had truly explored her depths. Each one of them, Tom Headman, James Marlston, Frederick Trowse, as well as himself, had not only been inside the girl but up as far as they could go and had there released their semen. Each one of them had ejaculated into the girl. Four heavy loads. It had been glorious, remarkable but not really something to be repeated again, most certainly not without ‘protection.’

But the idea of being naked again with the girl, holding her naked young body against theirs — that could be done, and certainly penises could again enter but they would need to be clad in rubber. Whilst, maybe, Zephyrine’s parents might go away again and leave the coast clear for some more delightful swimming in their private pool and ‘swimming’ in Zephyrine’s liquid sex, the idea of a warm railway station waiting room as put forward by Stan certainly appealed. It would, though, be even more ‘extreme’ than the visit to her house, because it was clear it would not just be the four fellow commuters with Zephyrine, but Stan and, seemingly, Alf, the station master. Hector had seen Alf and was sure Zephyrine knew who he was too: an older man, grey haired with a full and substantial grey beard. There would be six of them. Six men to the single schoolgirl. Easier undoubtedly without the ‘rubber johnnies’ — and cheaper — but just so unwise. The men might all be stark naked with the girl, but their penises would need to be ‘clothed.’

Not easy arranging the evening. A matter of planning and co-ordination. Stan assured them almost any night would be fine for Alf. The station master closed the waiting room at 9pm prompt every night so the room — the scene of the meeting — was not a problem to arrange, but ensuring both Stan was not working that evening and it was also one all four of the gentlemen commuters could stay late at the office and come along by train at or after 9pm was more complicated. Luckily Zephyrine felt she could get away most evenings by leaving her house via her bedroom window, creeping over the flat roof, down a tree (a route clearly well practised probably when younger as a game to and from the garden, perhaps even at night for a secret picnic after dark in a ‘den’ at the bottom) and out and up the road to the station.

The evening was, nonetheless, arranged when all players could be present.

“Are you sure about this?” Frederick Trowse had asked the girl. His concern for her welfare perhaps a little spoilt by the fact she had his erect and leaking penis in her mouth when he asked the question. It was another evening on the train. Another evening when Zephyrine was not doing her homework but playing with the gentlemen’s swollen penises. She had all of them out of their flies, hard and mouth wetted at their ends. She had assured Frederick Trowse and the others she was most definitely looking forward to the meeting in the waiting room and was not at all worried at being with so many men. So many men to look after her.

And so, the evening came around. Zephyrine’s journey home not accompanied by her usual travelling companions. She was able to get on with her homework, though perhaps the excitement of what was to come later was a little disturbing, causing her thoughts not always to be on the work before her.

A dark evening as the steam engine with its train rattled along the track, orange flashes from its firebox when the fireman shovelled in more coal. A steam whistle made at set points along the line as required of the engine driver. Inside their usual compartment, but much later than usual, sat four be-suited businessmen. Bowler hats and ‘brollies’ on the luggage rack above them, reading their newspapers. So often during their normal commute their flies would be open and male organs displayed. But not that night. Display would come later. They all knew that. There was no charming and sexual schoolgirl with them. That would come later.

They alighted at Zephyrine’s station. Not their usual stations at all. They stepped out onto platform upon which they so often saw Zephyrine’s father standing and waiting to collect his schoolgirl daughter. He was not there. They had half expected Zephyrine already to be there, but Antalya Escort apart from two other passengers getting off the train further down, there was no one else apart from a pair of uniformed men seeing off the train. Raising their umbrellas against the slight drizzle, they walked towards the red brick building with the legend ‘WAITING ROOM’ upon its door. Stan stepped from the shadows.

“Good evening, Stan,” said Hector reaching out to shake his hand. “Well, here we are. Zephyrine?”

Stan shook his head. The girl, the so necessary part of the evening had not yet arrived. Up the platform came an older man, obviously Alf as his uniform and cap very clearly displaying his rank as the station master. Beside him a lanky lad, all arms and legs, clearly a young recruit to British Railways.

“Off you go about your duties, Larry. These gentlemen and I have some business to discuss. We are not to be disturbed except in the event of dire emergency.”

For a few moments Hector had wondered if a seventh man was to be added to the party. A further, perhaps long and lanky to match the gangling lad’s frame, penis to be added into the evening’s mix. Yet another for Zephyrine to work. A boy’s penis along with the maturity of the others. Very likely the lad a virgin, completely inexperienced with women or girls. What a way to start one’s sexual experience — alongside five complete strangers — mature men at that — and your boss — Alf!

Alf unlocked the waiting room with a large key, and they all went in. An old fashioned, matchboard panelled room with high ceiling and obscured glass, acid etched windows which had somehow survived the War intact. Various seats occupied much of the edges of the room around a large iron stove to the side. The coals in the stove were alight and the room was almost stuffily warm. From the walls various posters looked down, some new, some rather vintage. It seemed an unusual but not unpleasant venue for sexual activity. Maybe there had been fumblings in there before. Young couples finding themselves alone and having time on their hands before the next train. It was unlikely anything quite like what was planned for Zephyrine had ever taken place.

Desultory conversation as the men waited. Luckily it was not long before there was a tentative knock at the door and Alf stood up to admit Zephyrine, before carefully closing and locking the door. She was dressed in a gabardine raincoat with a beret over her long dark hair. Hector wondered if young Larry had spotted the girl. He would certainly now be wondering just what ‘business’ was being discussed that needed a young woman present — indeed a mere girl.

Zephyrine seemed a little less her usual confident self. Perhaps the sight of just so many men looking at her, though she knew all of them bar one — indeed knew them rather intimately, unnerved her. Hector jumped up, rather faster than he normally did these days, to hurry to reassure her, and to take her coat. It was rather wet. It had been raining. Her beret too was soaked, but she was hardly going to catch a chill now she was in the warmth and comfortable stuffiness of the waiting room, even if rather more of her clothes were about to come off.

Hector hoped her nervousness had not affected her too much. It was important the girl should be aroused. It just would not do for her vagina to be dry! A lot of penises were anxious to be inside and sliding wetly. Dryness just would not do.

He was conscious too that there would be, indeed was, a certain nervousness too for the gentlemen and Stan, and perhaps particularly Alf. Unused to becoming naked together, indeed erect together. It would have been easier if it had been just James Marlston, Tom Headman, Frederick Trowse and himself. They had done such things before — with Zephyrine. Should he perhaps take the lead and undress? Ensure his penis was extended — ‘pour encourager les autres’. But would they not be the more encouraged by a naked and sensual Zephyrine — the young woman clearly aroused?

Hector sat and encouraged the girl onto his knee. He knew the others would be watching intently. “Are you happy with these arrangements, Zephyrine? Is it warm enough?”

The girl nodded, looking around, “It’s nice; nice and warm and cosy.”

“You wouldn’t be too cold if I got your breasts out to show Alf how big they are? He’d like to see them you know.”

Again, the girl nodded and looked across at the old man. Alf smiled weakly back. Of course he would like to see them. His eyes did not leave Hector’s fingers as he slowly unbuttoned Zephyrine’s blouse and reached inside. Alf’s eyes wide as Hector brought Zephyrine’s lovely breasts out into the open, jiggling them a little and then pulling on her nipples seeking to encourage them to stand.

“Go and see if Alf is hard, Zepherine.”

The Antalya Escort Bayan girl stood, with breasts now out of her blouse, wobbling slightly as she made her way across the room to the aged station master. The girl was now experienced in the ways of men. The way she reached with her hand to the front of Alf’s trousers demonstrated clear knowledge of what she was seeking. Her hand found and moulded. It was obvious by the way her hand rested and the shape formed by her fingers that there was indeed a hard cock in Alf’s trousers!

“I wonder if anyone else is hard, Zephyrine?” It was a cue for her to find out. Having got her up and touching Alf, it was not difficult to encourage the schoolgirl onwards. Her little hand reaching out and squeezing at trouser after trouser until she returned to Hector — and gave him a very pleasing squeeze.

“Well, Zephyrine?”

“All stiff, Mr Stubbs.”

“Do you think you should get them out, Zephyrine?”

The girl nodded. Things had now got started. Her breasts were exposed. Appropriate now for male organs to be brought out and displayed.

Hector first. The girl perhaps feeling most comfortable with his penis — it had, after all, been inside her the most! A strange feeling for him, being unbuttoned and brought out, as Zephyrine had said, all ‘stiff’, his purple fringed knob upstanding and exposed to the others. Exposed in a waiting room normally seating quiet and self-absorbed commuters and travellers, reading newspapers, books or just staring into space. Many of them could, no doubt, not even conceive of what was about to happen.

Zephyrine went around pulling turgid penis after penis out into the open and giving each a nice stroke. Important that firmness was both achieved and maintained! Last to be revealed was Alf — Zephyrine’s sixth penis of the evening. Another respectable organ. Craggy, slim but firm.

It was as if started the girl was now running smoothly, no longer needing Hector’s encouragement. She knew what they all wanted to see, but she was not hurrying. Undressing is best done slowly, when performing for an audience. A little pull of blouse from within her skirt here, a further undoing of a button there, all as she walked around. Hector could see Zephyrine was enjoying herself. He was sure she was getting a ‘kick’ — arousal from what she was doing. Probably as much as from seeing all those erect penises, and the occasional furtive stroke.

The removal of Zephyrine’s blouse was accompanied by a twirling and then casting it aside. Hector was puzzled. It was something a ‘stripper’ would do. Surely Zephyrine could have seen nothing like that. Not for real, not at the ‘pictures’, not on the television. Conceivably she had read something in a book. Perhaps a ‘racy’ novel had been left lying about by her father, or even swopped by her fellow schoolgirls between them. Her breasts were already revealed but she shook them in a provocative way when she completely freed them from her brassiere and then advanced on Alf, pushing them right into his face, no doubt tickling her now standing nipples on his beard.

Her hand reached down and she stroked Alf’s penis again. She looked around the room at the seated figures, all with upstanding erections. There would be a lot of stroking to do!

“Sometimes Zephyrine forgets to wear knickers, Alf. Would you like to find out for us. We would like to know. Whilst she is next to you?”

“You mean…”

“Put your hand up her skirt.”

A risk that doing that might end Alf’s pleasure of the evening all suddenly, and a little dramatically, in Zephyrine’s hand. Clear to the assembly just how aroused Alf was, he was trembling as his hand slipped under the schoolgirl’s skirt and made its way upwards. All done as the girl lightly stroked his foreskin up and down. Would it suddenly spurt?

“No, nnnno knickers just…”

“Just what Alf?”

“Just girl… just girl wetness and flesh. So hot!”

“Surely some hair as well?”

“Oh yes, so soft.”

“Are your fingers in her?”

“Oh… they are now!”

And Zephyrine was moving up and down on Alf’s fingers, her thighs moving so she pushed down and then pulled up, moving on the fingers as if she was already fucking.

In the not strong electric light and the red glow from the stove it was all rather a strange, almost Gothic, scene. Six seated male figures all with exposed phalluses, seated in a circle; a young girl naked to the waist stroking the penis of a quite short and elderly bearded man whilst his arm disappeared up her pleated skirt. Painted as a scene it would have raised so many questions about what on Earth was going on. An intriguing painting and one most certainly not for general consumption, but for private delectation and delight. Perhaps in a private gentlemen’s club. A painting for Escort Antalya contemplation and speculation. The members wishing they were part of the scene.

What would Zephyrine’s father make of the painting were he to see it with his friends? Might his penis thicken and lengthen, along with his associates, as they took in the painting and thought about the implications. Would Zephyrine’s father frequent such a club where the painting was on display? What was to happen? Was the, clearly young, girl about to be played with by all? What was in the artist’s mind? Might she stroke others — her hand being so clearly clasped around the old man — was he meant to be a satyr? Might there be sucking? Might she be about to be mounted in turn by all of those in the painting? Mounted and inseminated.

Might Zephyrine’s father be imagining himself into the painting, might his friends joke about being in the scene as well? Would that be as more gentlemen in the scene, more chairs added to the circle, or in place of those painted? And would Zephyrine’s father recognise the likeness to his own daughter? Might he frown and start at the close resemblance, blink and shake his head, a little shocked the painting had aroused him so? He could have no idea she was the model — none at all – or that the reality was that she was indeed about to copulate with all.

“How much hair, Alf?”

The man took a few moments to take in he had been asked a question. His attention so upon what his hand was feeling (and his cock), “Err, she is quite bushy.”

“Show us,” said James Marlston.

The skirt could have been raised but Alf took it as a request to unfasten and let it fall to the floor leaving Zephyrine entirely naked.

“So lovely,” said Stan.

“What is lovely about me?” asked Zephyrine, coming over to sit astride Stan’s trouser clad legs, his erection mere inches from her curls.

“Everything,” said Stan, “so lovely, so pretty, so… young.”

The girl’s hand reached out and stroked Stan’s hard penis. “That would be so nice inside me,” she said as she raised and lowered his foreskin moving her hand just as her vagina might move upon his penis. And if she was a few inches closer to it then it could so easily be so.

“I do like penises. I really do. I fantasise about being with naked men, moving amongst them, rubbing myself against their hard flesh — their sticking out hardness! I don’t know if it would be the same with boys. Would their penises be smaller? I like fully grown ones like yours. Get naked for me and then I can pretend.”

There was no pretence really. With the divesting of clothes there was no fantasy of men with ‘sticking out hardness’ but the reality. And it was abundantly clear they were not mere boys. Not because of penises because, as Zephyrine had yet to learn, boys or, as she meant, young men’s cocks, are not smaller as such and, if anything, rather more sticking out and more frequently hard, but because of paunches, greyness and general wear and tear.

And she came a-rubbing. Moving between them so erection after erection brushed against her.

“Daddy says at my brother’s school they all get in a big bath together after rugger. Do older rugger players do that? I’d love to be in a big bath with big men, all soapy and… do you think they’d make me all soapy?”

Hector thought they would do that and more. It would not just be soap that would make her slippery. The thought of being with Zephyrine in a bath — with or without the others — soaping her and rubbing her soapily against him pleased. An idea for another day, perhaps. Another day when his penis could feel just so swollen — as it did now. He rubbed against her, his purple fringed knob brushing against her dark curls. The thought in his mind to grab Zephyrine, lift her up and plonk her hard on his prick — fuck her and inseminate. Hector stepped back. It just would not do to get Zephyrine in the family way. That would certainly throw a spanner in the works.

Difficult to conceive how her family would react if Zephyrine became rather obviously ‘with child’. It would in one way be lovely to see her with stomach extended. Indeed, to see her naked and to have sexual intercourse with the pregnant Zephyrine. But that was not the point at all. What would her father, what would her mother do? It was not now an age when the family might send her on an extended visit to France to visit ‘family’ only returning when she was again respectably her normal shape once more. And Hector could hardly save her reputation by offering to marry the girl. The scandal, were he to marry a girl young enough — indeed more than young enough – to be his daughter, was one reason: the other being he was already married, and happily married at that and with children already. And there would be no telling that the child would be his anyway. It would not just be him pushing his knob into the girl if he was to start things off. There were six men — six penises — twelve testes. The errant spermatozoa could have come from any one of the twelve!

Most certainly not to be risked. It was time for the condoms.

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