Why Choose the Rails

1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Emma

I laid my head back on the headrest and let the gentle back and forth of the train car soothe me. After a long day at work, there was nothing more relaxing than the loving caress of the railway. It was just what I needed today.

The Save the Railways project I'd been spearheading wasn't going as I’d hoped. Train ticket sales were down, and car traffic was up on the island. My boss was supportive, but couldn't hide her concern that the project was doomed and that I was wasting my efforts.

I couldn't really blame her; the trains were only tangentially part of my job.

As the head of tourism marketing, I should have been focusing on other things, like the upcoming festivals.

The trains were a passion project of mine, though, and with the new car company petitioning to shut down the railways, I couldn't let it go.

Unfortunately, my Save the Railways petition had barely gained any traction with the locals. The tourists enjoyed the railways, but as my boss liked to point out, “Tourists can't vote like locals can.”

I needed to either majorly increase tourism or drum up local interest in the trains, but it was easier said than done.

The locals didn't seem to care about the trains. I couldn't understand their apathy. It didn't make sense that I could possibly be the only one who cared this much about trains.

Even ignoring my somewhat unnatural obsession with them, trains meant a lot to me. They had always been a source of comfort for me.

For the year I'd lived off the island, I never stopped missing them.

I shouldn't have left in the first place.

Nothing good happened off the island; the worst of which was my short-lived relationship with Miles.

Miles was the son of the CFO of the car company that was now invading our island, which, if it was a coincidence, was a horrible one.

I'd broken up with Miles when I came back to the island.

It was my home and I couldn't stay away. He’d laughed at me when I told him I missed the more leisurely pace of the island and the comfort of the trains.

He thought I was joking. He understood just about as well as he'd understood me our entire relationship—not at all.

He stopped laughing when I left him.

Now his car company was here on my island, threatening my home's way of life and the trains I loved. I was struggling to believe that was a coincidence.

I sighed and fought to push the thoughts out of my mind. They were worries for tomorrow. The work day was over, and like always, the train was here for me.

When everything else in my life felt chaotic, I loved that I could rely on the trains. They were a constant comfort, but lately they'd started providing a new kind of stress relief, too.

It was like my thoughts summoned the tunnel, my favorite part of the journey. The vibrations of the train car increased as we grew closer. Anticipation swirled through me as the vibrations steadily increased, sending a rush of heat to my core.

I loved trains in a way I knew other people would judge and look down on. It had started as a normal amount of healthy adoration, but the trains had changed things. It wasn't my fault they seemed to return my love and pay me special attention.

I shifted a little in my seat as the track continued to get bumpier, sending vibrations up through the seat and straight to my core.

I looked around my train car, making sure I was still alone, like always. Because the car at the back of the train provided a bumpier ride than most people enjoyed, no one else normally rode in it. It was part of why I loved this car.

I tried to tell myself I didn't need to do this, but it was no use. I was too worked up and could feel the train encouraging me to let go.

I slid further down in my seat before dipping my hand into the waistband of my pants, shuddering as I ran a finger over my already-damp silk panties. I moved them aside and slid a finger into my dripping pussy.

The train continued to buck on the tracks, heightening my arousal. I slowly pulled my finger out, now coated in my arousal, and moved up to my clit. Circling it the way I liked, I let out a moan. We were almost at the tunnel now, and I knew from experience it wouldn't take me long.

I quickly moved my fingers away from my clit, positioning them at my opening and paused, waiting.

With my other hand, I flicked my left nipple, then my right.

They were already stiff, and now they were almost painful.

I pulled at one of the peaks, crying out at the sensation.

Then the train was plunged into darkness, and I pushed two fingers deep inside myself.

I moaned loud enough that I had to hope they didn't hear it in the next car.

The train bucked on the tracks in the tunnel, sending vibrations through the car and my seat as I finger-fucked myself, racing the train.

The train was fast, but it was a long tunnel and I almost always came before the train exited the tunnel.

I rode my fingers hard, tugging at my hardened nipples one after the other, not holding back. I felt my release building and building; I was so close. I brushed my clit with my thumb, sending me tumbling over the edge of ecstasy, crying out as I rode out the waves of pleasure.

"Woooo-Wooooo" the train whistled almost as loud as my cries.

Light flooded back into the cabin as the train exited the tunnel.

I pulled my fingers out, wiping them on my soaked panties. I was going to have to change the moment I got home, as usual.

After the tunnel, the tracks evened out and the rest was a smooth ride. I preferred the bumpy ride. The island had been talking for years about fixing the rest of the track, but I hoped they never did.