Chapter 15: If Only Us... Chapter 15

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Romance

Reads: 300
Comments: 1

At some point we noisily banged our way through Düsseldorf, paused for a bit, and then went upon our way to Arnhem.  We were held up, not moving, several times during the night for some reason and when my little travel clock chimed seven our morning began.  I found myself the possessor of a super great morning erection but, as sometimes happens when I pee, it fades to nothingness.  I toyed with the idea of waking Virginia, but decided not to.  Instead, I closed the door to the little WC and did my morning routines.

As I lathered up for shaving, the door opened behind me and Virginia eeled in behind me.  She sat on the pot and then slid behind me to watch as I sliced away my three-day growth.  Zip, zop, and it was done.

“This sounds like bad movie dialog, but I could stand here and watch you shave all day.”

“I’d be pretty clean-shaven then love.”

“You know what I mean, smartie!”  She poked me in the kidney, knowing I was highly ticklish.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”  I said as I whirled around and touched the tip of her nose with a dollop of shaving cream.

She rubbed it off and wrinkled her nose at me.  I wrinkled back.  We’d seen this in the television series Dobie Gillis and thought it was cute.  I supplied the punch line.  “Now, cut that out!”  I patted her on the butt as I left, slapping after shave to my cheeks.

We dressed swiftly, with minimal ‘accidental bumping’.  She gave a small sound of dismay and turned to show me her favorite bra was getting rather tight and wouldn’t hold the fullness of her breasts now.  I surveyed the situation with manual dexterity, causing her to giggle, and pronounced that she was filling up, something she was already fully aware of.  That drew a wicked snort of derision and an apology from me.  One tender kiss at the top of each breast.

“These are going to be enormous, aren’t they?”  She mused, almost to herself.

“Time will tell, honey.  Time will tell.”

Once dressed, we ambled down the corridor and paused at the steward’s cubicle.  He asked how we slept and, with a straight face, I replied that we slept just fine and hardly felt the shunting in Düsseldorf.  He beamed and said he’d make up our compartment in a moment.  I told him not to hurry as we were going to have breakfast now.  He nodded.

The dining car was rather full, so we were seated across the table from a very nice mother and daughter pair.  We introduced ourselves and the mom introduced her daughter and herself.  They were traveling back to Amsterdam after having visited friends in Zurich.  As breakfast progressed she hesitantly asked if we were the young American newlyweds.

Holy cow!  Did everyone on this train know about us?  I replied that we were indeed, showing a load of teeth and a happy smile.  Her daughter piped up and asked me if we were really only seventeen years old.  When I replied that she was and I wasn’t, she turned to her mom and began wheedling at her.

“See, there.  She’s only seventeen, Mama.  I’m eighteen now and I just can’t see why you won’t let Rolf and I get married.  He’s twenty, for goodness sake!”

“We’ll discuss this later, dear.  I suspect that there may be other circumstances at play that we aren’t privy to.”  She smiled at Virginia, who showed a bit of color at her throat.

“Oh, look!  A castle!”  I pointed out of the window at a huge towering stone edifice perched on top of a substantial hillside across a river.

As we took our last cup of coffee, we slowed for the border and crossed over into the Netherlands.  Virginia and I had driven to Arnhem a year ago to see the sights, and now we were going to just pass through.  We entered a huge classification yard, clanking over the points almost continuously.  Through the noise of the bogies, Virginia and I stood and took our leave.  As we left the car, I could hear her daughter begin whining again about marriage.  I smiled to myself; the old lady had taken one look at Virginia and knew why we’d gotten married so young.  The Concierge accepted my voucher and tip with a smile.

Our compartment had been returned to the day coach setup.  The beds were folded up and made back into a bench seat.  The small table was screwed to the floor fitting and a bud vase of fresh flowers was attached to the window sill.  A very nice touch.

We sat in the yards for almost two hours.  Virginia got restless and, I must admit, I did also, so we wandered back to the bar car.  The bar itself was closed for liquor since this was a Sunday and wouldn’t open until noon.  We could sit in the lounge chairs though and did.

Through the huge windows surrounding us we watched little puffing engines shunting cars around, track crews tending to a stuck turnout, and several work trains passing by slowly.  It was fascinating and made me think of Hans and Gerd.  I asked Virginia to remind me to talk to Hans when I got back.


“I think he’s a bigger fish in the pond that he lets on.  Look at the way he had all those flowers sent to our compartment.  Look at the vouchers, and the reception we’ve gotten from the train crew.  I think he may be pretty high up in the totem pole at Stadt.”

“You think so?  He’s such a sweet guy but he and Gerd just run that little switch engine in the yard don’t they?”

“Maybe.  Heck; he may run it as a hobby for all we know.  He seems to be able to take off whenever he wants.”

“Yeah, maybe so.  Are you too comfortable here, or do you want to go back to the compartment and fool around?”

I swiftly glanced around to see if anyone heard her.

“Relax, I already looked, lover.”

“Ah.  Okay then.  Let’s go back and see what pops up.”

“I already know the ‘what’.  The question is:  what will we do about it?”


We strolled back several cars to our compartment, nodding at the porter as we passed.  He told us we’d be making Amsterdam at fourteen hours – about an hour late – and apologized.  I told him not to worry and that we’d just go to our compartment and wait.  He smiled again, tapped his nose with a forefinger, and winked.  He was a true romantic, that one.  I had a feeling that nothing short of an attack by rampaging Goths would force him to bother us.

We reached the door, slid it open, entered, and closed it.  I clicked the lock on.  Virginia went to the big picture window and lowered the blinds.  The sun was shining into the roomette anyway, so this just put a slight green haze on everything in the compartment.  She turned to me, put her arms around my neck, and nuzzled my shoulder.  I did the same and we just held each other for a while.

I could feel her heartbeat pulsing through her wrists against my shoulderblade.  It was slow and steady; thump – bump, thump – bump.  It sped up slightly when I slid my hands down to her waist and pulled her tightly against me.

“God, Tom.  I love you so much.”  She breathed in my ear.  “Oh, what you do to me.  I feel like I’ve run a horse race – and I was the horse.  I’m all out of breath now.”

“Not in any stretch of my imagination would I compare you to a horse, my love.  Too short of leg, and short two legs also.”

She pulled away from me, turned for the WC, looked over her shoulder, and nickered at me like a horse would.  She continued into the WC and stayed for a bit.  When she came out, she had a dark cloud over her head.

“What’s up, honey?”  I asked.

“I just looked at myself sideways in the mirror.  My tummy is sticking way out.”

I looked at her tummy covered in the silky sheen of panties, put my hand out, and rubbed it slowly.

“Just fine.  And, just about time I expect.  You’re continuing to show, my love.  When we get back, you’re going to have to begin wearing light maternity clothes.  Did you even buy any yet?”

“Oh, nooo.  Not yet!  I want to be a bride before I become a mom.”  A single tear traveled down each cheek.

I folded here into my arms, kissed the tears away, and told her she’d always be a bride, but being a mom was special.  She looked up at me, smiled, snuffled a couple of times, and finished dressing.  When we were back to normal, we raised the blinds again and just sat to watch the yard activity.  In half an hour we began moving again.  Our final leg into Amsterdam.


Submitted: May 27, 2013

© Copyright 2022 B Douglas Slack. All rights reserved.


Add Your Comments:



Imagine how fat she'll feel seven months in.

Fri, November 15th, 2013 9:06pm


Aye! I bet you'd like "Snowbound!" also.

Fri, November 15th, 2013 1:22pm

Facebook Comments

Other Content by B Douglas Slack