The Southwest Sunset

We threw a lot of great parties over the years, but this one–the first Katy and I planned ourselves–is still perhaps my favorite.

1

If you go on Wikipedia you will probably read that the first passenger train on the high speed Southwest Sunset corridor ran on July 4, 2036. This inaugural embarcation consisted of a gaggle of reporters, political supporters and B-list celebrities–a good story for another time, but strictly not true. The real first high-speed passenger journey between Los Angeles and Santa Fe is the subject of this story.

The day began at Los Angeles Union Station, about two weeks before that ‘first’ passenger trip. My wife Katy was standing by our luggage on the platform while I walked the length of our new train, going over some last-minute logistics with the engineer and a small skeleton crew. Technically, this was only a test run, and our invited guests were under strict orders to refer to it as such. Satisfied with the final preparations, I sauntered back to my wife, nervous jitters in my gut but unable to hide an eager smile.

Katy was wearing a long black suede coat, carefully buttoned up. I grabbed the front of the coat and pulled her in for a kiss, rocking her forward onto her toes. She bit her lip with a conspiratorial smile–we both knew what she was wearing under the coat. These naughty thoughts were only amplified in the context of the busy train station, as passengers from all across the country flowed around us.

I should briefly describe my beautiful and mischievous wife. At the time, we were both in our mid-thirties, still naturally fit–and dare-I-say, hot. I would probably best describe Katy as a mousey, petite Jewish girl, with mid-length wavy brown hair, big eyes and the best midriff I had ever put my hands around. She was usually manic and always cheeky, with a running mouth which made her completely incapable of holding onto a secret.

I would not describe myself, meanwhile, as particularly tall or buff–just fit enough to look back at the photos now and realize I actually did look good. I had very lightly brown skin, just dark enough to occasion questions on buses about my ambiguous heritage, particularly if I had been in the sun for a while. My hair was curly, thick and black, chopped into a kind of subtle mullet which had been popular then. I had a short-trimmed beard, deep brown eyes, and enough piercings to play at being ‘cool’ (two).

‘Everything good?’ Katy asked. ‘I want to see these so-called party carriages you haven’t shut up about.’

I had checked and double-checked the preparations. The great innovation of our new scenic line were special event carriages which sat at the very front and back of the train, completely clad in smoothly curving, unbroken glass. We had specifically designed them as event spaces for under fifty or so people, and we would be breaking in the front carriage on this test journey.

When Katy and I had realized we could have the whole train to ourselves, the idea for this scheme had popped into our head, almost fully formed: One long sex party across the desert.

2

The guest list mainly consisted of people we knew from the swinging scene and who regularly attended the same kind of parties as us. But we had adventurous and party-loving friends from other walks of life, and Katy and I had decided to extend an invitation to anyone who was interested, of course making it very explicit what the plan for the evening was. To no surprise, most of our friends had politely declined–with the exception of just two people. As Katy and I stood around the platform waiting for our guests to arrive, it was these two friends who were mainly occupying my mind.

As it turned out, one of the two, Isla, was the first of all the guests to arrive at the station. Isla was a very successful doctor even by then–deeply competent, straightforward but quiet. She greeted Katy and I with close hugs, giving off an awkward anxiousness.

Isla was a first generation Chinese woman, with straight black hair hanging almost to her elbows. She was small but had the body of someone who cycled everywhere and bouldered every day–toned and tight. Although she was often private and shy, a glass of wine or two would flush her cheeks red, highlighting cute freckles and nonstop giggling.

‘Ahhh, I’m so nervous,’ she said, laughing. Confidently unconfident.

Isla was a friend of mine from my first real job out of college, and I had had a deep and unrequited crush on her back then. But then I had found other partners, and then she had found her own, and we had never been single at the same time. My crush eventually sublimated into a genuine and meaningful friendship between the two of us, although there were always periods where I thought maybe she was flirting with me before she would pull back again.

Katy and Isla set off together to the front carriage with our small suitcases while I stayed to wait for the other guests. We were expecting topkapı escort about thirty or so party friends, and they slowly trickled into the station over the following half-hour. There was nothing quite like the feeling that you were central, essential even, in some great or special happening, in something that brought people truly together. I can still find the cozy feeling of that memory warming me today.

As the time of departure neared, our other friend–Hazel–had yet to arrive. Finally, just as I was getting ready to give up and get the train started, I saw her desperately running up the platform, suitcase clattering behind her. She stopped in front of me, hands on her knees and panting.

‘Uber–traffic–oh my god’, she managed to get out between breaths.

Sweat was dripping off her brow as she stood up, offering me an ironic handshake as greetings. Hazel was almost as tall as me, with medium length ginger hair in a ragged wolf cut partially covering her soft blue-green eyes. Her arms and legs were covered in stickerbook tattoos of various sizes. She had a gold septum piercing, dozens more in various folds of her ears, and she was wearing a tight white tank top. I caught in a quick glance something I hadn’t known–her nipples were pierced too.

Hazel was my wife’s oldest friend, someone who she had loved and bickered with since ninth grade. For my part I had known Hazel since college. Despite always being stunning, back then we had all mainly thought she was crazy. I had repeatedly turned down her refreshingly forward advances in college–something which today I have no explanation for. To be fair, she was at least a little bit nuts, and Hazel and I had gone through our fair share of squabbles and periods of not talking. It was equal parts thrilling and frightening that Hazel had wanted to join this trip, something which had resoundingly surprised both Katy and I. Hazel was at that point an increasingly-successful theatre actor and I reminded myself that she probably had more adventurous spirit in her than I had previously given her credit for.

I took her suitcase and we stepped into the carriage together. A few moments later the ‘test’ journey was on its way down the Southwest Sunset corridor.

3

We had designed the route with beauty in mind, and the thousand-or-so miles of smooth new track was run intentionally through the most pristine and remote parts of the beautiful Southwestern desert. The line was part-transport, part-sightseeing phenomenon. Once the train passed Las Vegas, it would spend approximately six hours passing through unbroken wilderness before the nexus in Santa Fe. Although this made the route marginally less efficient, we had figured (correctly) that the beauty of the trip would more than make up for the extra hour or two.

Once we left LA, I quickly gathered everyone for a short preamble. By then everyone had already gotten the multi-use implants, so disease and pregnancy were a non-issue, but there were new faces aboard and I wanted to go over the ground rules again. Most importantly, I had to remind everyone that the real fun couldn’t begin until we were past Las Vegas and truly on our own in the wilderness.

That was not a problem anyway, because it gave us about two hours to settle into the trip and get sufficiently tipsy. I should probably describe the carriage, since I remain quite proud of the design. The back third of the carriage contained the bathrooms and featured a long elegant bar along one side. Some DJ decks had been set up behind the bar, open to anyone who knew how to use them. A skylight ran along the top of this section until it reached the end of the bar, at which point the glass spread out to completely envelop the carriage, allowing breathtaking unbroken views of the afternoon light across the Sierra Nevadas. In the middle of the carriage, comfortable double-size rotating chairs were positioned around the edges, with enough room in the center for a small dance floor–one of the intended uses of these carriages was for small weddings or other celebrations. Past the dance floor, the carriage began to taper in towards its rounded front. In the center of this front third was a large, built-in couch that made a full oval, facing outwards. The inside of the oval was filled in with more soft velvet for sprawling out over. Finally, at the front of the oval sofa, facing forward in the middle of the train, I had designed a deep reclining chair built into the couch.

The sofa and chairs were upholstered with soft burnt-orange velvets and dark wood finishings, straight out of a nineteen-seventies spy flick. Warm recessed lights were built into the floor, but we were expecting a clear, moonlit night and were not planning on disrupting such a magnificent view with too much internal light.

The open bar had been set up with a generous grazing platter and enough booze for anyone to serve themselves up whatever they fancied, esenler escort and the mood as we approached Las Vegas became increasingly giddy. While plenty of people knew each other already, there were enough fresh meetings to sustain a fun atmosphere of flirtatious conversation. The tension of what everyone knew was coming filled the carriage like a thick smoke, swirling in deep psychedelic spirals through our collective consciousness.

I made my way around the party, drinking poorly-made negronis and trying to shmooze with everyone before it was too late to talk. I especially doted on Isla and Hazel, making sure they were having fun and feeling comfortable (I knew Katy could handle herself!). I watched Isla flirting with Sam, a fellow cyclist. She was swooshing her short cocktail dress and blushing, and I felt a strange pang of jealousy that I had not expected to feel.

4

By Las Vegas, we were well beyond bat country and thoroughly tipsy. Some people had already split off into new pairs, gently making out or sitting on each other’s laps as we watched the metropolis fly by at a hundred miles an hour. The sun was getting low on the horizon and the city cast deep shadows over the flat desert. Finally we flew through the Las Vegas station. The crowd marked this moment with a loud cheer, raising their glasses for an unspoken toast–the party could begin. Someone changed the music from boppier afro-funk to moody, downtempo electronica.

I was talking to Isla and Hazel, discussing who they had their eyes on, when Katy tapped me on the back. By now she had long ago lost her concealing coat, revealing her real party outfit–long stockings, attached at the top to a short black skirt which barely covered her bum and under which you could just see the bottom of her cheeks. Her top was a tight black leotard which led up from her waist in a narrow V-shape, exposing the sides of her hips, barely covering her perky, mid-sized boobs, and revealing most of her upper back.

‘Mr. party host,’ she called me, running her finger along my chest and stopping it carefully at my nipple, holding it there.

‘Dr. party host,’ I teasingly corrected. I was wearing a tight navy tank top and small tight shorts with a thin silver chain around my neck. I had put on some eye shadow and swapped my little ear piercing for one of Katy’s big silver hoops. By contrast, Katy didn’t care much for makeup, although that evening I recall she was wearing a rather enticing wine-red lipstick.

‘Dr. party host,’ she corrected. ‘We have a special surprise for you. For organizing.’ She grabbed my hand and started leading me to the front of the carriage before stopping again.

‘Sorry to take him away from you,’ she said, giggling at Isla and Hazel. In that giggle and cheeky look was an unspoken acknowledgement, something that the three of us had been too nervous to ask out loud.

Katy led me to the front of the train. Couples and groups of people were already making out in the big swivel chairs and the warm oval couch at the front of the train, but the very front seat, the prime position, was left open, guarded by two women I had met before in other contexts, but never played with–Ixchel and Sakshi. They smirked and gave synchronized cute waves of their fingers when they saw us coming. I said hello, kissing them on the cheeks, before Ixchel demanded I get into the chair, aggressively pushing me down into it.

Ixchel was a Mayan girl who had grown up in LA, with a soft Chicana accent, a gold cap on her left incisor, big golden hoop earrings and sharply cut bangs. She was wearing a turquoise skin-tight leotard, tucked into boyish adidas short shorts. The last time I had met her, she had yelled at me about something before embracing me in a warm hug, and it had done something to me inside–not the least because she reminded me of Chel from the Road to El Dorado, a deeply rooted sexual awakening of mine.

Sakshi was one of Katy’s friends from the scene who I didn’t know too well. I presumed she was South Asian in descent, and she spoke with a British accent. She had dark brown hair, braided into two long strands which stretched almost to her waist, and was wearing a fishnet top which barely disguised her big, dark areolas. She had a choker on with a silver hoop at the end, and a matching belt around her midriff. Loose silver chains connected the hoops to each other and to tall boots which came almost to her knees.

Suddenly the train passed through a tunnel, temporarily sending us into blackness and eliciting a loud hollering amongst the partygoers. After a few seconds, the train emerged again, deep now in a canyon washed with pink sunset light. Long beams of yellow sun passed between occasional pine trees and onto the brilliant red rocks of old mesa walls, and a few small clouds above glowed with bright oranges.

As if in response to this moment, Sakshi and Ixchel climbed onto the two armrests aksaray escort of the couch, crawling closer to me until their mouths were just near my ears, backs arched down and asses up. Katy bit her lip and took this as a chance to pounce, smacking both of them hard on their buttcheeks. Sakshi yelped, faking a pout, while Ixchel laughed and shook her ass, putting it higher as if asking for more. Katy got onto her knees, nestled on the floor between my legs, looking up sweetly at me.

‘This one’s all for you,’ Katy said. ‘Just lay back and enjoy!’

Sakshi and Ixchel smiled and moved their faces down towards my waist, stopping at the bottom of my tank top. They slowly worked it up, carefully pulling it over my head in such a way that their tits lingered in my face. I put my hands around each of their waists, gripping them tightly. Ixchel’s nipples were visibily pointing through her leotard and I gave them a quick, soft bite, testing to see if she liked it. When she giggled, I moved from her right nipple to her left, and then to Sakshi’s, which were now sticking out through her fishnet top. I spent a while on each nipple, enjoying the moment with my arms around these two beautiful women.

Meanwhile, I could feel delicate kisses from Katy moving up my thighs and closer to my groin. Her hands worked up the back of my legs until they were squeezing my upper thigh, just below my bum. Katy began carefully pulling off my shorts as the two women slid back down my body. They were each straddled around one of my legs, softly kissing my chest and slowly moving up until they arrived at my nipples. Katy must have told them how much I enjoyed having my nipples played with, and I closed my eyes in ecstasy as they deftly worked their tongues around them. I ran my hands down the spines of their back until I could get a hold of their bums, giving them firm squeezes and pulling them in closer to me.

With my dick now out I felt Katy run her tongue very gently up along my frenulum. I flexed my kegels a few times and my rapidly-hardening dick bounced up and down, softly hitting Katy in the face. Ixchel moved up from her position to make out with me in earnest, with Sakshi using one hand to pick up the slack at the other nipple. Ixchel grabbed my face in her hands as I held her tightly around the waist and we explored each other’s tongues, communicating in the nameless language of kissing. She bit my lip and pulled on it, and I returned the favor. Ixchel then turned slightly so that she was now cradled on my lap sideways, with her mouth against my ear. She reached over and spanked Sakshi hard, laughing. Ixchel reached into her shorts and unbuttoned her leotard, slipping it quickly over her head. She had tiny, perky tits, with just as small grey-black areolas. I took my right hand off Sakshi so I could feel Ixchel up.

‘You’re going to cum in her mouth,’ Ixchel whispered in my ear, giggling as I rubbed her nipples with my thumb, her left tit cradled in my hand. ‘Or you can cum in mine. We don’t gag.’

Katy moved from my perineum to the rim of my head, slowly moving her tongue around and gently cupping my balls.While Katy was good at many things, not gagging was not one of them–I usually had to get my deepthroat fix elsewhere. Katy smiled up at me, her big eyes reflecting the same unspoken reflections I was just having. I could see an irreverent glint in her eyes which just said something like, ‘you’re welcome…’.

Katy had a small mouth and had to really try to fit even the head of my dick fully in–while I can’t say I am blessed with abnormal length, I do have a bit more girth than average. Her lips popped around the rim of my head, and she stuck her tongue out underneath so she could keep licking my perineum.

I looked around the carriage, taking stock of the party. People were in various stages of nudity by now, some sweatier than others, and you could begin to hear soft moans over the music. In the distance I saw Isla, bouncing on Sam’s lap, her tits completely out. Besides the fact that I was greatly relieved to see her enjoying herself, I was giddy at the realization that I had never seen her even close to naked before. On the other side of the carriage, Hazel was standing with two girls, still dressed and with a big martini in her hand, taking turns making out and giggling like schoolgirls.

Ixchel slid her hand down my chest, and as if to demonstrate her intentions, grabbed Sakshi’s hair at the scalp and held it tight. She pushed Sakshi down into my chest, sliding her down my leg until she was out of Ixchel’s reach. Sakshi knelt on the floor next to Katy, my legs now splayed wide to accommodate both of them.

‘Which one will it be?’ Ixchel whispered again.

‘Can I try both?’ I answered, trying to play it cool. Ixchel bit her lip and held her forehead close to mine, so that we were looking right into each other’s eyes. After a moment she popped her back up straight, still on my lap, her boobs once again eye level as she looked down on me with a stern face.

‘Whatever you want,’ she said, stepping off me and standing behind Katy and Sakshi. Sakshi was running one finger along my leg, across my balls, and down to my taint. She pressed firmly there and looked up at me for approval, and I exaggerated the feeling of pleasure on my face to show that I enjoyed that too.