“Hey, can I take that bag for you?”
Sasha smiled at the sound of the familiar voice behind her. Struggling with her heavy backpack she turned to see Steve's' cheerful face as he stepped forward to take the load from her hands. Grateful, she let go of the wide handle as he shouldered the burden. Flexing her fingers, she welcomed the reprieve from her cargo.
“Oh, I hate this thing,” she said gesturing to her pack. “It is GONE when I get home! I may actually unpack it, take it out to the yard and set fire to the bastard!”
Steve laughed. “Oh, you’re not so keen to get home yet, are you?”
Sasha cast him a sidelong glance. Was that a slight edge in his voice? She couldn’t be sure. Then he laughed again, and she supposed she had just imagined it.
“Well I have dragged this bag halfway around the world,” she replied with a laugh as she followed him to the luggage drop. “I’m done with it!”
She was on her way back home to Mississippi after a year, working and travelling through Europe. Not ready to end her adventures, she extended her stopover on her return flight and booked a nine-day tour from Ho Chi Minh to Hanoi. She had always wanted to visit Vietnam and reasoned that she may never have a chance to come back. And so, six days ago she met up with the assortment of personalities who formed this tour group.
Sasha counted herself lucky to be travelling with such an entertaining group of people, but it was Steve she’d been drawn to from the very beginning. Tall and broad, he was blessed with fierce, emerald eyes, chestnut hair that fell in soft waves just shy of his shoulders, and a light, though now thoroughly sun-kissed complexion. However, it was his voice that first captured her attention. The melodic and lyrical Irish lilt brought a gasp to her lips when he introduced himself to her. That accent was very likely her biggest weakness, and most definitely one of her biggest turn-ons.
Under the fierce tropical sun, her thin silky singlet was soaked with sweat and sticking to the centre of her back. She was used to the heat, but this oppressive humidity was something else. Steve looked as though he might spontaneously combust. Rivulets of moisture ran in competing paths down his neck, back, and arms and sweat beaded on his now crimson face.
“Here, drink this before you melt,” Sasha said as she handed him a chilled bottle of water.
“Jesus, it’s hot! I’m soaked more than I’ve got any good reason to be!”
Flustered and lost for words it was her turn to flush crimson, unable to keep her mind out of the gutter. His eyes glinted mischievously, as though she had passed some test which up until now, she didn’t even know she was being assessed for.
The tour guide chose this moment to usher the group aboard the train. Sasha followed the others across the platform, grasped the railing, and climbed the two steps to board the Reunification Express. At 15.30 on the dot, the train lurched forward with a jerk as it started its slow progress north to Hanoi. The train lumbered in its progress out of Hue and through the countryside. It was to be an unhurried pace; 14 hours to travel almost 700 kilometres.
Sasha noticed that she had the compartment to herself, a welcome development considering the two narrow bunks took up most of the space inside. She laid on her bed reading her guidebook, preparing for her arrival in Hanoi, but the tropical heat had sapped her energy and now her eyelids were too heavy to stay open.
“WAKE UP!”
She sat upright with a jolt, at the loud and boisterous calls at her door. Looking out the window, she saw that she had slept for a few hours and the sky was washed with lavender and amber tones. She opened the door to find Steve swinging from the jamb, filling the entire doorway in the process. His eyes shone bright with laughter. Behind him, blocking the narrow walkway, singing some ladsy song were the friends he was taking this trip with.
“Shut up would ya, Christ!” he yelled over his shoulder, “I’m trying to tell her!”
Turning back to Sasha with a smile he said, “We’re heading down the dining car a bit earlier than they told us. There’s beer,” he added by way of explanation.
“Well, that’s reason enough!” she said in reply and grabbed her bag, preparing to follow him out of the compartment. He stepped aside and waved her past him with a flourish. She let out a laugh as she curtsied and stepped out of her compartment. The train chose that moment to lurch, rocking the carriages from side to side, ensuring she fell against Steve. He reached out to steady her, holding her waist for perhaps a second too long to be purely helpful. Steve was a solid wall of muscle and she let out an involuntary sigh as she struggled to compose herself before making her way along the corridor.
She sensed Steve fall in step behind her and she deliberately slowed her pace hoping he would close the distance between them. She felt a thrill course from the back of her neck to the base of her spine and back up again. I’m sure he’s checking me out, she thought, imagining his eyes roam across the curve of her ass. She quickly looked behind her and the unguarded desire in his eyes was plain to see as they feasted on her. His gaze shot up to meet hers, his lust exposed, but instead of suppressing it, a slow, wicked smile spread over his lips and a question burned in his eyes.
Steve reached out to grab her hand, placing it on his chest. Feeling the heat of his body, she leaned against the wall of the neighbouring compartment and answered his silent question. “Please.”
In a fraction of a moment, he closed the distance between them and plunged his hot tongue deep inside her mouth to taste her. His body, a solid wall of heat was crushing her breasts, as though he couldn’t get close enough to her. His mouth devoured hers, and in that moment, she was ready to be consumed by him. His lips blazed a path down her throat to the swell of her breast, and a low moan of ecstasy escaped her own. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you,” he said, raggedly. “It can’t be any kind of surprise to you, I’ve been following you around like a horny fucking teenager all week.” His eyes were fierce, burning her with their intensity.
“Well, I’m no good at reading these situations. You know, I thought so, but I also thought that might be just wishful thinking.”
She felt his hands cup her ass, pulling her closer. “Read that?” His lip curled into a half-smile as he pressed the full length of his body into her. She raised her lips to his for another kiss.
With a sigh, he peered down the carriage toward the door to the next train car. “We were right behind the others, they’ll come looking,” he said, taking her hand and leading her towards the dining car.
“Screw the dining car,” she said as she was pulled along behind him, “let’s go back to my room.”
He laughed, but it wasn’t the melodious, light-hearted chuckle she was used to. It was low, it was wicked, and it was as sexy as hell. “Later,” was all he said.
Five minutes later, Sasha was jammed between Steve and the window, seated at a small table, studying the sparse offerings on the laminated dinner menu. She was keenly aware of the flush which crept up her neck as she struggled to regulate her breathing. The dining car was almost full when they arrived, with only one booth available. Instead of sitting opposite, Steve had taken the seat beside her.
“Sláinte,” Steve said, beer raised as he chatted with other travellers. The mood in the dining car was buoyant. The amber sunset of this final leg was breathtaking, the dark, sultry night looming ahead.
Steve's friend, Pete responded in kind, raised his bottle, then proceeded down the dining car with Ali, a 20-something from South Africa. Sasha wordlessly raised her own bottle. She felt the flush creep up her throat, but there was not a thing could be done about it. There was nothing in his face or voice betrayed the fact that the long fingers of his left hand had slid beneath her skirt and were walking a path between her thighs ready to stroke her pussy through her rapidly soaking panties.
“Could I have this one? Uhh. Number 23.” Sasha was struggling to keep her voice steady as she ordered from her menu. She took a long gulp of her beer, trying to recover a little composure. Steve chose just that moment to draw lazy circles with his middle finger over her swollen, panty-covered clit. She gasped, then promptly began coughing to clear the liquid that she was almost choking on.
“Are you OK?” Steve asked, his caring tone contradicted by the way his eyes blazed.
“Yeah, Steve. I’m doing just fine,” she said, turning to him, a dangerous glint in her own eyes as her coughing subsided. Keeping an in-depth conversation going would have been a challenge, so she was grateful for the noise of the dining car. It took until that moment for Sasha to compose herself
Sitting so close, the full length of Steve's thigh pressed against hers, the other passengers had no idea where each other’s hands were. The angle of her hand did not allow her to slip her hands inside his waistband undetected, so she stroked his thickening cock through the fabric.
“Spicy Hot Pot.” She had not noticed the server standing by her table. Cheeks flaming, her wandering hand was brought to an immediate stop by the bowl being placed in front of her.
“Mmmm, Spicy Hot Pot,” Steve said sardonically. He leaned in close, under the guise of breathing in the aromatic soup. “That looks so good. It smells good. I bet it tastes good too.” As he said this, he slipped his hand under the elastic at the leg of her panties and sunk a finger into her soaking pussy. He slipped another inside as he said, “It’s hot though, you don’t want to burn your mouth.”