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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2006. Please
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A Train Ride Marked by a Crying Baby
by Eli the Bearded (1997)
***
An unusual train ride with a woman and her infant. (F,
toddler, voy, mast, sci-fi)
***
I remember the train ride well. The station at
Westhampton was still closed due to the fire and I had
to get on at Speonk. This did have the advantage that
the fare was slightly cheaper. I had purchased a cup of
coffee from a heavy guy in the little shop by the
station. Soon enough the loud, filthy diesel engine was
pulling to a stop. I walked over and climbed in.
There were only two cars open and I knew from
experience that the one I was in, six inches or so
taller than the other, was the one with air
conditioning. The train was very empty but the people
who were on it had lots of luggage. I took a forward
facing seat on the side with the double seats. A row up
in front of me there was an oldish woman with a young
child on the triple seat side. The child was sleeping
and the woman was staring out the window. This was one
of the rare cars with windows free enough from
scratches to actually look through.
The conductor came and punched my ticket. "Transfer at
Jamaica." I had hoped to find a newspaper on the train,
but it was clean. I had nothing to do but stare out the
window and sip my coffee. Round-a-bouts Patchogue the
train whistle had aroused the baby and the woman was
trying to pacify it.
I first started looking at them about that time. The
woman had a very wrinkled mouth and loose skin hanging
off her neck. I decided that she might not be old after
all, but just have some skin weirdness. Her arms seemed
perfectly fine after all and her eyes had a decidedly
youthful shine. Maybe the kid was hers. I hoped that
the kid would have a better draw of looks than the
mother.
The kid began crying louder after someone slammed the
sliding door shut returning from a cigarette between
the cars. The kid had very little hair and seemed to be
quite young. The baby looked about nine-ten pounds. The
woman was holding it close to her chest, smoothing the
scarce hair, and talking softly to it.
"Hush my baby, quiet my baby. All is alright, silence
my little one. Dry your tears, quell your fears, lil'
baby. Your mother is here, my small infant son."
The woman had lovely copper-red hair in a long braid.
She put the baby in her lap so that she would have a
free hand to reach into her bag. She pulled out a
bottle to feed the child. I turned my eyes to her
breasts under the purple tee-shirt. Largish and firm,
decidedly not those of an old woman.
The baby refused the bottle and continued to bawl. She
checked the diaper, satisfied, she left it on. She put
the bottle back and lifted the child to her chest
again. Swaying gently she began to recite a lyric I
couldn't understand. It might have been Scots or Old
English because I thought I could make out parts but
mostly it was beyond me.
We pulled out of Babylon, the train was now express to
Jamaica; about an hour away. The conductor made one
last pass through the car and disappeared into the
closed first car. I turned around and noticed There was
only one other person in the car way off at the other
end, apparently sleeping. I smiled to see him so
peaceful in spite of the crying.
My coffee was finished now, it seemed unlikely I could
get any sleep. I turned back to look at the woman and
child. I stared at her chest. The kid was flailing his
arms about as he cried and one of his fists kept
hitting her chest and causing the breasts to vibrate
temptingly. I noticed that I was getting hard but
ignored it.
Then the woman reached up and touched her chin in an
odd way. She stopped her poetry and hummed instead.
Moments later her jaw dropped down several inches. She
glanced over at me for the first time and I pretended
to stare out the window.
I examined the sight from the corner of my eye. Her jaw
was very odd looking. It was as if the entire bone had
descended to in front of her Adam's apple. She began to
undress the child. The screams seemed louder and now
unable to reach her bosom with its hands, the kid
managed to keep her chest jiggling by kicking.
Then she did something unnatural. She stretched her
mouth open wider than the kid's skull. I guessed she
must of dislocated her jaw or something when it fell
down. The wrinkled skin of her lips was now stretched
taut. Her face looked as distorted as something in a
funny mirror, but it didn't look old.
I opened my fly and pulled out my penis, much turned on
by the kink value of this new development. She lifted
the baby up to her mouth and it seemed to go crazy with
fear. She held its arms still and began to slip the
skull in her mouth. It was a tight fit. I was
masturbating now, not even thinking how odd it must be
to do it in such a public place.
She leaned her head back and lifted the baby above her
so that gravity would help push it down her throat. The
baby began to urinate out of fear. The stream sprayed
against the wall the seats in front. She was slowly
pushing the child down her throat. The loose skin of
her neck was filling out with the meal.
Once the whole head was in her mouth she stopped and
sealed her lip around its throat. I squeezed my glans
and frenum together with my thumb and forefinger with
each stroke. The waves of pleasure flowed wonderfully
from the pressure. The pissing had stopped and the baby
was slowing down. The urine on the walls still dripped.
The woman was quite still for several minutes and I
slowed my masturbation to keep me going for the whole
thing. It was a long time after the baby had ceased to
move that she began to start swallowing. She held on to
the child's feet and slowly lowered them as her throat
strained to engulf the body. I wondered at once how she
could breathe, but then put the thought out of my mind.
I was enjoying this too much to question it.
Her mouth and throat were grossly distorted from the
human norm and her chest was beginning to swell with
the meal and I had never been so turned on in all my
life. My hand was rubbing hard, squeezing, and pulling,
and I didn't care that I had no lube and that I was
chafing. Her meal was progressing so slowly that I
feared I may not be able to hold my cum till she was
done.
Already the pre-cum was showing and I was thrashing
away. But either my perception of time changed or she
began to work faster. I was coming and she was up to
the knees of baby and I had a huge amount of spunk to
milk out and she was eating faster and faster. I was
stroking my semi-hard shaft as I watched the lump in
her throat that was the infant's feet disappear into
her bloated torso.
She reached up to push her jaw back into place. I
pulled out a napkin that I had gotten with my coffee. I
used it to wipe up the thick semen as best I could.
Then I put the coarse, sticky paper in the empty coffee
cup. I eased my genitals back into my pants and closed
my fly. The lump was settling into the woman's stomach
and her face had returned to normal proportions with
very loose skin when I next glanced over.
She collected her belongings into the baby bag and
stood up. She walked over to me and pulled out a box of
Djarums. She held out one. I looked at it a moment. I
collected my garbage, stood and took the offered
cigarette. Together we walked silently to the far exit
of the car. She took a cigarette for herself. In the
vestibule between the cars she offered me a light and
then lit up herself.
In silence we waited in the noisy cubicle as the train
slowed for the approach to Jamaica station. She
finished her cigarette first and tossed it out on the
tracks. There was one last movement in her stomach that
I saw. I stubbed out the cigarette and put the butt in
the coffee cup.
We pulled into the station. "I'm taking the E train,"
she told me.
"I'm transferring to go into Woodside," I told her.
The doors opened. We stepped out. She leaned over and
gave me a brief kiss on the lips. I hugged her. She
turned and walked down the platform to the exit to the
subways. I tossed out the coffee cup and crossed the
platform to board the waiting train.
END
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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 48