Charles Richards

The hot swappers

CHAPTER ONE

Alice Martin's crotch was wet. Partially due to the excitement that any eighteen-year-old girl would feel making her first trip into a foreign country, and partially because she had just seen an older-looking man who had given her such a searching look that the goose bumps had broken out all over her young body.

Breathing hard, she hurried down the platform in the wake of the young Mexican pushing the handcart carrying her three suitcases. Looking down the length of the train, she could see the bright splash of red that marked the diesel engine standing patiently at the head of the long line of cars like a mother duck about to waddle down the track. Alice could hear the powerful throbbing hum of the engine's motor. The silent vibrations struck her flesh, increasing the sense of excitement and desire that she was experiencing. Her breasts, hanging loosely within the slings of her slackly fastened bra, firmed and started to swell slightly, the nipples becoming engorged with blood and poking at the thin material covering the puffy brown tips. She was turned on hot with desire and squirming with excited anticipation.

Quickly glancing at the ticket which she held clutched tightly in her hand, Alice's eyes sought, and then found the numbers painted in a dull gold on.the side of the dark olive-drab coaches. Ahead of her, the young Mexican boy, who couldn't have been a day more than fourteen, also looked up at the numbers as he wheeled the cart with the suitcases down the platform.

Alice saw him stop before one of the dark slits marking the staired entrance to one of the large Pullman cars, lift the bags from the handcart, and deposit them unceremoniously at the top of the three high steps leading into the coach. He stood there, patiently waiting for Alice to close the gap between them. As she approached, she fumbled in her large leather purse and extracted a crumpled dollar bill, smoothing it, and then handing it to the boy. He looked at the bill and then at Alice. She didn't take the hint, but moved toward the bottom step. He shrugged his shoulders and then shuffled quickly down the platform, looking for another American customer.

She almost heard the wet squish at the crotch of her thin panties when she took the first long step up into the coach, but hesitated only for a moment, and then clambered quickly into the darker confines of the car which was to be her home for the next two nights.

Leaning over, her short dress rising high along the backs of her full rounded thighs, Alice picked up two of the bulky heavy suitcases, hefted them and lurched forward into the companionway, making her way down the aisle, looking at the numbers on the doors of the long car. She left her one remaining suitcase sitting at the top of the coach's stairway.

Struggling with the heavy bags, Alice made her way down the narrow corridor until she came to the door with a number corresponding to the one which was written in titled letters on the face of her ticket. Since the door was standing ajar, she turned and pushed her way into the tiny compartment, banging her hip hard against the doorjamb as she tried to wrestle the heavy suitcases through the small opening. Dropping them to the floor, Alice unashamedly rubbed her smarting hip with her hand, trying all the while to figure out where to store her bags. She was wondering if she could safely change her wet panties.

"Where do you want this?" a deep male voice said behind her.

Jolting forward as if she had been poked in the rump with a cattle prod, Alice whirled around to face the voice.