Love Train Ch. 02

Father Peter O'Leary's beige sedan pulled up at the police blockade. The sombre vicar rolled down his window as the law enforcement officer approached the car. At least, Peter assumed the man in the hazmat suit was a police officer.

"What's this?" asked O'Leary, "burning cows again?"

The officer pulled down his disposable face mask and peered into the car, looking rudely past the vicar at the demure young woman beside him. Peter O'Leary bristled but knew better than to trouble the law.

Beside him, Mary's snow white cheeks blossomed and she folded her arms over her buxom chest, praying silently that the officer's unflinching gaze would pass by her soon.

"It's not foot-and-mouth disease," the officer finally answered, turning back to her father, "there was a small leak at the Bio-Tech plant. It's nothing."

"You said that last time," O'Leary replied gruffly, "no good comes of man playing God. Mark my words, son."

The officer didn't bother to hide his impatience. With one last, leering glance at Mary, he waved them through the cordon.

--

"Small leak my ass."

"Daddy!" Mary exclaimed, shocked at her father's outburst.

"Forgive me, Father," Peter said mechanically, crossing his chest with one hand as he navigated a bend in the road.

"No, Daddy! Look out!"

Peter slammed his foot onto the brake. The threadbare tyres of the old sedan squealed in protest as the car fishtailed erratically over both lanes, before coming to a halt a hairs-breadth from two animals rutting in centre of the road.

"Don't look, Mary!" Peter cried, flinging a hand over his aghast daughter's eyes.

"What's wrong with them, Daddy? Why are the horses fighting?"

For a moment, the vicar was speechless. A morbid fascination held his gaze on the stallion mounting the horse in the middle of the road.

"They're... they're angry, sweetheart. That's it. They're upset that someone let them out of their field."

"Should we help them?"

"No!" Peter exclaimed, still blocking Mary's view as he slowly drove round the wildly humping animals, "No... someone will be along shortly."

--

Mary slipped out of her ankle-length skirt, pulled the oversized knitted sweater over her head, studied her reflection in the locker room mirror, and cringed. The nineteen year old had blossomed much sooner than most of the girls her age, developing the ungainly DD's and thick butt that had caused her so much trouble.

She didn't WANT the boys to look at her that way. She hadn't ASKED for their attention. Not that it made any difference, her father still seemed to hold her responsible, tarring her with the same sinful thoughts of the lercherous choir boys.

Hasty to hide her shame, Mary pulled on the thick choir robes that mercifully disguised all but the vaguest outline of her figure.

"Pssst... Mary!"

Mary whipped round to find the grinning face of Lucas, one of those troublesome choir boys, peeking through the cracked door.

"Lucas! How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," he laughed.

"But you mustn't! It's sinful."

"Relax," Lucas said, stepping into the locker room, "I won't tell if you don't."

"Tell? Lucas, He sees everything!"


"Your pops?"

"The Lord! Solomon 2:7, 'Do not arouse or awaken love unit it so desires.'"

"Huh?"

Mary rolled her eyes, surprised, yet again, at the depths of Lucas' ignorance. "No sex before marriage, doofus."

"Oh! That's exactly the point. I've got something to show you. Come with me to the eaves."

"I don't know, Lucas. I'm supposed to be helping the kids in Sunday school."

"It won't take long, honest, and I promise you're going to like it."

Mary wavered. She knew her father would be mad if she flunked Sunday school. But something about Lucas' wild green eyes and easy smile always brought out her mischievous side, meagre that it was.

"Ten minutes. Then I'm leaving."

--

Lucas led Mary through the church to the small staircase that led up to the organ balcony at the back of the church. From there, Lucas guided Mary into a narrow gap between the back of the organ pipes and the stone wall, to a hidden door directly behind the central pipe.

"What is this place?" Mary asked, her intrigue overcoming her reservations as she ducked beneath a low doorframe into a small room.

"I think it's an old storage space," Lucas explained, "I guess people forgot about it once the organ went in."

The dusty room was packed with odd bits of furniture, heaps of ancient hymn books, and a stack of mats like the kind the children played on in Sunday school.

"This is cool but I need to get back before Daddy misses me."

"I haven't even told you the best bit yet."

That wicked smile made Mary falter once more. "Okay, but be quick. What is it?"

"Remember what we were talking about last week? About the birds and the bees?"

"This again, Lucas? We took vows!" Mary protested, turning her back on the charming boy. "And anyway, its yucky and gross and... and... and..."

Mary's objections trailed off as Lucas took a step up behind her. Even through the thick cloth of the choir robes, she could feel the reassuring firmness of his body, smell the musky scent of his flesh, feel the warmth of his breath against her sensitive nape.

"We found a way to make it okay."

"We?" Mary asked, breathily.

At that moment, Lucas' older brother Mike, ducked into the room. Mary turned at the noise and found herself face to face with Lucas.

"Hey Mary," called Mike casually.

"What's he doing here?" Mary hissed.

Lucas' older brother had always been a wild child. One of the bad eggs, her father would warn, usually proceeding one of his sternly worded lectures about keeping well clear of bad boys and their wicked desires.

"He's back from university for the holidays. And he's going to teach us to, y'know, do it."

"Do what?"

"Bump uglies, knock boots, take a little horizontal refreshment!" Mike laughed.

"Ew! No! Even if I wanted to, which I obviously don't, it's not allowed. It's a sin."

"It's only a sin if we do the action!" Lucas explained, "Mike found a loophole!"

"What... what do you mean?" Mary stammered, feeling an inexplicable heat rising in her body.

"It's called soaking," Mike explained, "All the church kids do it at uni. Lucas puts his thing in your coochee but, and here's the kicker, he doesn't move. Not an inch."

"But then... how does... I don't..." Mary blushed, her obvious inexperience compared to the two brothers making her feel silly and childish.

"That's where Mike comes in," Lucas said kindly, taking Mary's hand and squeezing it reassuringly, "He would kinda do the movement for us."

Something strange danced in Mary's stomach. A weird excitement that seemed to be creeping down her body towards her forbidden parts. Mary bit her lip.

"It still sounds gross."

"Don't you want to help save my soul?" Lucas asked earnestly.

"W... what do you mean?"

"God wants our sperm to go inside a woman," Mike explained, "Genesis 38:9, 'he spilled it on the ground... and the thing which he did was evil.'"

Mary couldn't argue with his reading. Lucas reached out and gently lifted her chin, forcing her to stare deep into his mesmerising green eyes.

"I... I'll do it," the words slipped out before Mary could stop them.

"Good girl," Lucas smiled.

"But, but, but I am a good girl. I'm saving that for marriage, whatever you say. So you'll have to put it in my tush."

Lucas couldn't believe his good luck. If he still prayed, he would have thanked God right then.

--

The cool air tickled Mary's legs as she lay back on the mats and wondered how exactly she'd got herself in that position.

With obvious enthusiasm, Lucas knelt between her legs and forced her knees back towards her chest. Her choir robe bunched at her waist, exposing her soft, milky thighs and the unadorned panties she wore underneath.

Mary clenched her eyes, willing away her excitement, reminding, no, convincing herself that this was all in aid of Lucas' eternal soul.

She felt his trembling fingers tugging at her panties, sliding them off her legs, heard them drop onto the dusty floor.

"Shit, would you look at that?" Mike whistled, "she's fucking soaked."

Mary shrunk inside herself, rueing the strange tingling between her thighs.

"It isn't... I didn't... it's not... pee," Mary stammered.

Mike laughed cruelly but Lucas hunched over her and whispered reassuringly, "it's good, it'll help."

Then she felt it, a burning spear that lanced her wet folds, igniting something deep inside her psyche.

"Oh Lucas, you promised, not there, we can't..." Mary whined, as his blazing rod sloshed up and down her sex, stimulating the little nub that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

"I won't, I promise, it's only the outside. To help it go in your tush."

Squeezing her eyes even tighter, Mary battled the unrighteous sensations. Acting more on instinct than reason, she hooked her arms behind her knees and hugged them closer to her chest.

"Damn, bro," Mike laughed, "She WANTS it! Don't keep her waiting."

"Are you ready, Mary?"

"Uh... uhuh..."

Their voices seemed distant. Her mind folded in on itself, narrowing her focus to the blood pumping in her ears, the heat burning between her thighs, her short, gasping breaths and the need to feel it, to feel him, to feel full, and then it was there, pressing insistently against her perfect little rosebud, lubricated with her own sweet juices, stretching, distending, pushing her to a place she'd only skirted in her most secret of fantasies, until, suddenly, bliss!

"Oh Jesus fucking Christ, fuck, that' so fucking, fuuuuck!"

Mary barely recognised her own voice. It was dripping with lust, hoarse and needy, communicating the burst of pleasure emanating from her asshole. Her eyes were open, head craned forward, staring bug-eyed at past her swollen, shining sex to where her tightest hole was clamped snuggly around Lucas' rod of sin.

"Are you okay?" Lucas asked, concern and wonder in his voice.

"Yeah... I... I think so... it feels, just wait, don't do anything, I feel..."

It was too much, far too much, but not enough. Mary groaned as her inexperienced ring spasmed around the intruder. She needed it to stop. She needed more.

But before Lucas could give it to her, before the soaking could begin in earnest, before Mary could crest the gathering wave inside her loins, a booming voice echoed around the small room.

"Mary O'Leary!"

She knew that voice. It wasn't the voice of the God but it wasn't far off.

--

That's how Mary and Peter came to be on the 10:49 to Edinburgh. And from there, Orkney, a stepping stone to some wind-rattled isle in the North Sea and, finally, a convent where, her father assured, Mary would live out her days in the silent company of the Nuns of Arran, far, far away from the corrupting influence of Lucas and his wicked brother.

"Something is wrong, Larry. Really fucking wrong."

Mary looked out of the corner of her eye, past her statuesque father, at the girl standing in the aisle. She couldn't help but notice the girl's indecently short skirt and suggestively tight top. Mary said a silent prayer for her as the girl's companion mumbled an apology to her father.

"I didn't raise her to talk that way."

Mary could feel the hostility radiating from her father. If SHE'D spoken like that, it would have been the birch, no two ways about it.

"Listen, Larry, I went to the bathroom, it was occupied, y'know, so I knocked but the door was open, and I was desperate, so, anyway, there were people inside, like more than one, I think it was the ticket inspector, and..."

Mary gazed out of the window, pretending to watch the countryside pass while, in fact, she studied the reflection of the incoherent girl.

"The ticket inspector was in the toilet? Ellie, this call is really important."

Mary reflected that the girl, Ellie, must have been almost the same age as her. She wondered if there would be anyone her age in the nunnery. She thought not.

Mary zoned out, mulling over her dim prospects, until a sudden outburst from girl's companion drew her attention back.

"The girl? You're rambling. For heaven's sake Ellie, get to the point. What girl?"

"The girl sucking the ticket inspector's cock!"

The brazen way with which Ellie spat out that word was like an electric shock. Mary jumped in her seat, causing her father to scowl at her, before he turned his disapproving gaze on the pair beside them.

"I swear, she gets it from her mother," Larry offered, meekly.

"Larry, I..."

Then the were gone, the ashamed father dragging his unruly daughter into the vestibule to be firmly chastised. As well she should be, Mary thought, repeating the prayer for sinners that her father had drilled into her for just such occasions.

"Father?"

"What is it?"

"May I go to the bathroom, please?"

For half a second, Mary thought her father would refuse. He'd hardly let her out of his sight since THAT Sunday. Then, with a disgruntled sigh, he stood to allow her past.

"Be quick."

Mary turned away from the vestibule where Larry had led his daughter and walked towards the rear of the train, keeping her eyes demurely fastened on the floor six inches in front of her feet and tugging self-consciously at the hem of her baggy sweater.

Breathing a sigh of relief as the sliding door hissed shut behind her, shielding her from the eyes of her fellow passengers, Mary pulled open the toilet door. At that very moment, someone bumped into her from behind and tumbled into the cramped space with her. The door clattered shut behind them, trapping her with the bumbling stranger.

"Oopsie," a girl giggled behind her, "I can never get my sea legs on these things."

Shifting awkwardly in a tight circle, Mary rotated herself enough to get a look at the klutz behind her. The girl had dark brown hair fashioned into two pony tails either side of her head. She wore a tight fitting cheerleading outfit that exposed an ungodly portion of her toned midriff and muscular legs.

"You can't be in here!" Mary hissed.

"Sorry," the girl offered, giving Mary a puppy dog look that almost made her forgive the girl's clumsiness, "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's... it's fine. I'm just a little on edge. It's been a weird day. Weird week, truth be told."

"I know the feeling. There was pickle in my cereal again this morning."

"Again?"

"It's not the worst place to find a pickle. Trust me."

"Right... I suppose you get used to the taste eventually..."

"Exactly!"

The girl's smile was infectious. Mary couldn't help but warm to her. "I'm Mary."

"I'm Mai."

"It's nice to meet you, Mai. But, do you think you could open the door, y'know, so we can get out before..."

Mary didn't get a chance to finish her sentence because at that moment a firm hand rapped on the door.

"Mary? Are you in there?"


"Fiddlesticks!" Mary hissed, "it's father."

"Want me to let him in? I think there's room if you scootch up a little, or I could stand in the bowl?"

"What? No! He can't find us in here!"

"Mary?!" Her father banged on the door again.

"Just... just a minute, father," Mary called back, her voice cracking with fear, "I'm... I'm just finishing up."

There was a long, intimidating pause. Then her father replied warily, "I'll wait outside."

"I'm dead," Mary whispered, hyperventilating, "if father finds me in here with you, I'm dead. We need to get out of here."

"Wanna try the window?" Mai suggested.

"We're on a train, Mai!"

"We could swap clothes! Then you could pretend to be me."

"How would that help? Oh, Lord, please, Lord, give me a sign. Help a sister out."

--

Whether it was divine intervention or the random workings of a chaotic universe, at that very moment Larry burst into the adjoining carriage with his daughter in his arms.

"Stop the train!" Larry yelled, "Someone stop the fucking train!"

The disturbance was enough to draw Father O'Leary back into the carriage. The panicked man ran up the carriage towards him, his uncouth daughter still in his arms, and addressed him wildly.

"Have you seen the conductor?"

"Pardon?"

"The conductor! Big hat, blows a whistle! You know, the damned conductor!"

"Sir, I'd remind you to watch your language. There are children around."

"Screw the children, we need to get off this train!"

"What's going on, father?"

Mary had used the distraction to slip out of the toilet and stood behind her father. Peter looked back, frowning momentarily at the petite cheerleader behind Mary who was twirling her pony tails around her fingers nonchalantly.

"It's nothing..."

"It's not nothing!" Larry cut in, "something terrible is happening, something..."

At that moment, a pained moan was heard from the far end of the carriage and then two rasping words that drove terror into Larry's heart.

"I want..."

With her chin on Larry's shoulder, Ellie was the first to see the businessman stumble into their carriage. She gasped, her eyes drawn instantly to the raging hard-on thrusting between his shirt-tails.

"Dad..." she whispered, "they're here."

--

Rage swelled Father O'Leary's heart, filling him with righteous fury, as he pushed past Larry and strode towards the unclothed businessman.

"Don't go near him," Ellie warned, "something's wrong with him."

Father O'Leary didn't need THAT pointing out to him. He could see it very well for himself. The businessman was lurching towards passengers, his vastly swollen phallus drooling incessantly as it swayed before him.

Passengers were crowding the aisle in their hurry to escape the crazed businessman. Some climbed over the back of seats in their haste, tumbling into the laps of the passengers behind them, as a panicked frenzy spread through the carriage.

The moment called for a clear head, for a pillar of the community. Father O'Leary drew himself to his full height and approached the businessman.

"This behaviour is unacceptable, sir. Simply unacceptable."

"I want..."

A powerful scent washed over Father O'Leary. It was sweet, like strawberries, with a musky undertone. It woke something deep in his sub-conscious, a part of himself he hadn't known since Mary's mother passed.

"Sir... you mustn't... the children..."

The businessman took a faltering step towards him.

"I want..."

The door behind the businessman slid open and a half-naked woman stumbled in followed by a elderly man sporting a towering erection. The alluring aroma intensified. Father O'Leary was barely conscious of the screams behind him. All of his attention was on the tantalising smell and the viscous liquid dangling from the businessman's cock. An inexplicable image rose in his mind; his tongue extended to catch that glistening nectar.

"S... s... sir..."

Father O'Leary's knees buckled beneath him. The monstrous cock loomed closer. It's aroma filled his nostrils. He could taste it. The sweet, salty, musky brew of hormones. He tried to think of a reason not to open wide and swallow that perfect penis. For the life of him, he couldn't.

Before he could stop the businessman, before he could even try, the sex-crazed lunatic guided his swollen glans past the vicar's lips.

And then Father O'Leary forgot about the everything else entirely.

--

The next few minutes were chaos.

A wave of horny loons stormed the carriage, barging past the fellating vicar in their berserk pursuit of the passengers fleeing towards the rear of the train.

Mercifully, the crush blocked Mary's view of her father. Then the terrified mob swarmed into Larry. He dropped Ellie and, in a heartbeat, she was lost beneath the crowd as he was driven backwards.

"Ellie!"

Larry fought against the tide of people. He caught a glimpse of golden hair.

"Sweetie!"

The screams were too loud. He couldn't hear her. He couldn't hear himself.

And then...

"Dad!"

He struggled harder but the rush of bodies forced him into the vestibule between carriages. He clambered on someones shoulders, above the madness, but all he could see was the horde of scantily clad sex-maniacs drawing nearer.

"Ellie!"

"Dad!"

Ellie was clambering up from the floor. The monsters were close. Too close. She wouldn't make it.

Larry broke through the mob. The aisle was clear between them. He wavered, torn between flight and fight, only a second, but in that second someone yanked him roughly backwards and slammed the clear glass door between the vestibule and the carriage shut.

Then he was dragged backwards, further from the carnal crush, and from his forsaken daughter, whose final, desperate cry wrought his soul in two.

"Larry!"