“Fucking, please,” replied Alison confidently.
“First Class or Shit Class?”
“First, please.”
“Two-berth, four-berth, or seat?”
“Uh… what’s the difference?”
“Well, it’s a long journey, so frankly, if you’re planning on doing any fucking, I would avoid the seat carriages. You can just about give a blowjob, but there’s barely room to spread your legs. Are you travelling alone?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’d go for a four-berth fucker. More fun that way: you might get a nice little orgy going.”
“Okay, that sounds good. So, one ticket for the 10.30 Whiteshit Express to London, in a First Class four-berth fucker.”
“Would you like to pre-book any extras?”
“Like what?”
“Well, in First Class Fucking you can book a strap-on fuck from the conductor if you like.”
“Only strap-on? No real cocks?”
“Not on this service. They used to offer a choice of male or female fuckers in First Class, but in the past year they’ve gone for female conductors only. Austerity, I guess.”
“Well, maybe I’ll just wait and see. I can purchase a fuck on board, can’t I?”
“Oh, sure. And that way you can see who you’re sharing your compartment with before you pay for any extras.”
“Okay, I’ll do that. So how much is that?”
“One thousand three hundred and forty-four euros.”
“Here you are. Thanks a lot, you’ve been very helpful. Lick my pussy, ma’am.”
“Lick m’ pussy, young lady. Have a good trip.”
Alison gave the lady behind the counter an appreciative smile and tucked a stray strand of light brown hair behind her ear, before making her way through the crowds back towards the main station concourse. Slender, elegant and tall, with finely-crafted features and a slightly rounded nose, she wore a see-through light green chiffon dress which showed off her figure perfectly — especially her large, slightly jiggly, natural-looking breasts and puffy dome-shaped nipples. There was a spring in her step as she re-joined her mother by the ticket barrier.
“Well — my daughter the fucker! I’m so proud of you, you know,” said the older woman tenderly, as she gave her daughter a farewell embrace. “You’re such a fucking slut.” Their breasts gently squashed against each other through their clothing.
“Aw, you say such sweet things, Mommy.”
“Wait…” the older lady paused as she fished something out of her handbag, “I’ve bought you something as a going-away present.”
“Aw, Mommy, you shouldn’t have!” said Alison as she opened the modest little cloth bag her mother handed her, withdrawing a rosary, with its pattern of wooden beads arranged in decades, offset at the pendant end by a finely-crafted solid silver penis. “What a beautiful cock!” she exclaimed, admiring the handiwork, then hanging the rosary around her neck so that the penis dangled between her breasts.
“Well, I know you’re not as into religion as I am, baby, but it’s just to remind you.”
“Thank you, Mommy.”
“You pleasure me, pussy-pie,” said her mother with a smile.
“You pleasure me too, Mommy.”
“Hey, baby cunt, are you gonna get enough fucking on that train? It’s a long way.”
“Yeah, I hope I’m sharing a compartment with some big dicks — otherwise I’m gonna get real bored rubbing my clit all the way to London. Mind you, I’ve got plenty of pre-course reading on my list, just in case I get tired of jerking off!”
“And how likely is that?” remarked Alison’s mother, raising an eyebrow sceptically.
They laughed, kissed each other on the lips one last time, and parted, Alison turning at the ticket barrier to shout, over the din of the crowds, “EAT MY CUNT, MOMMY!” as her mother waved fondly.
The 10.30 Whiteshit Express from Cunthorpe to London was an impressive affair, with twelve gleaming white carriages lined up along the platform. Alison consulted her ticket: Carriage 11 (First Class, Fucking), Compartment 2, Berth 2, it said. Alison counted off the carriage numbers as she walked along the platform. Carriages One and Two were both marked Shit Class, Non-Fucking: most of the people boarding here seemed to be families with children. Three and Four were Shit Class, Fucking: through the windows Alison saw serried ranks of hard wooden benches. “Jesus, who’d want to fuck on those?” Alison muttered under her breath. “Get splinters in your cunt…”
It wasn’t until carriages Eleven and Twelve (“At last!) that Alison saw First Class, Fucking (Four-Berth Fuckers) emblazoned on the side of the rolling stock. And when she slid the door to Compartment Two open, her heart leapt. For there in Berth One was… well, the first thing she noticed was the cock: jet-black, proud, and about eight inches long, it stood pulsating in the fist of a young man who was intently watching a video on the compartment screen whilst stroking his member with measured but firm purpose. The video seemed to feature a skinny girl with bleached blond hair and bright red lipstick, getting fucked airtight by three men — but that did nothing to distract Alison from the real-life dick in Berth One. She had already exclaimed “Oh Jesus fucking Christ!” before she could stop herself, and the young man turned his head with a smile.
“Suck my cock,” he said with exquisite courtesy, and a formal nod.
“I think I will,” replied Alison before she could stop herself. “I mean, eat my cunt, sir,” she said, correcting her manners, “I mean, lick my pussy, I mean, oh fuck…” Her voice trailed off in embarrassment as she stared at the huge black dick.
The man smiled, still calm and courteous, “Have you never seen a black man before?”
“Uh, no, uh, not in real life: there aren’t any, uh… any black people here in Cunthorpe. Not since the Expulsion, I’m told. Or I guess there’s you now, but I mean, not many. At least I’ve never seen a… you know, a…”
“Real-life black cock?” said the man helpfully. Alison nodded wordlessly, transfixed by the huge ebony rod which stood upright, throbbing in its master’s palm. “Would you like to fuck it?” continued the stranger kindly. On the screen, the cocks in the blonde girl’s cunt and ass had now moved round to her face, and she was sucking all three in turn, leaving rings of red lipstick up and down their shafts.
“Fuck yeah!” she replied with almost girlish glee. You know, I’m a real good fuck. Actually, I’m going to London to study at the RAF… you know, the Royal Academy of Fucking?” Slowly, Alison felt the train begin to move; she steadied herself on the door-frame, still staring at the black dick in front of her.
“The RAF — wonderful! smiled the stranger. “So you want to be a fucker when you grow up?”
Alison was a bit embarrassed and annoyed at the implication that she wasn’t yet grown up, and, more to the point, was desperate to prove herself to this gorgeous young hunk. “Well, I won the prize for Best Assfucker in the North Cuntshire Fuck Championships last year. Honestly, sir, you don’t need to pay for a fuck from the conductor lady today. I can do that for you, for free!” On the screen, the three guys were beginning to stroke off onto the girl’s face, her lipstick smeared sluttishly over her cheeks and chin.