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From: Eli-the-Bearded <eli@there-is-no-more-qzto.com>
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 3 Nov 2000 02:22:39 GMT
Summary: Elijah is reposting stories.
Keywords: m-solo weird
Encrypted: double rot-13
Subject: {ASSM} RP: Train Ride Marked by a Crying Baby {Eli-the-Bearded}(M-solo)
Date: Fri,  3 Nov 2000 03:10:05 -0500
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[This particular train is an eastbound Long Island Rail Road
train on the Montauk line. Thus you should not confuse 
Westhampton with any place in England, or Jamaica with the
country.]

Note: This story is weird. You are warned.

Repost-of: http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/eli/www/erotica/crying-baby.html

A Train Ride Marked by a Crying Baby.
	by Eli the Bearded

I remember the train ride well. The station at Westhampton was still
closed due to the fire and I had to get on at Speonk. This did have
the advantage that the fare was slightly cheaper. I had purchased a
cup of coffee from a heavy guy in the little shop by the station.
Soon enough the loud, filthy diesel engine was pulling to a stop. I
walked over and climbed in.

There were only two cars open and I knew from experience that the
one I was in, six inches or so taller than the other, was the one
with air conditioning. The train was very empty but the people who
were on it had lots of luggage. I took a forward facing seat on the
side with the double seats. A row up in front of me there was an
oldish woman with a young child on the triple seat side. The child
was sleeping and the woman was staring out the window. This was one
of the rare cars with windows free enough from scratches to actually
look through.

The conductor came and punched my ticket. "Transfer at Jamaica." I
had hoped to find a newspaper on the train, but it was clean. I had
nothing to do but stare out the window and sip my coffee. Rounda-
bouts Patchogue the train whistle had aroused the baby and the woman
was trying to pacify it.

I first started looking at them about that time. The woman had a
very wrinkled mouth and loose skin hanging off her neck. I decided
that she might not be old after all, but just have some skin
weirdness. Her arms seemed perfectly fine after all and her eyes had
a decidedly youthful shine. Maybe the kid was hers. I hoped that the
kid would have a better draw of looks than the mother.

The kid began crying louder after someone slammed the sliding door
shut returning from a cigarette between the cars. The kid had very
little hair and seemed to be quite young. The baby looked about
nine-ten pounds. The woman was holding it close to her chest,
smoothing the scarce hair, and talking softly to it.

	"Hush my baby, quiet my baby.
	 All is alright, silence my little one.
	 Dry your tears, quell your fears, lil' baby.
	 Your mother is here, my small infant son."

The woman had lovely copper-red hair in a long braid. She put the
baby in her lap so that she would have a free hand to reach into her
bag. She pulled out a bottle to feed the child. I turned my eyes to
her breasts under the purple tee-shirt. Largish and firm, decidedly
not those of an old woman. The baby refused the bottle and continued
to bawl. She checked the diaper, satisfied, she left it on. She put
the bottle back and lifted the child to her chest again. Swaying
gently she began to recite a lyric I couldn't understand. It might
have been Scots or Old English because I thought I could make out
parts but mostly it was beyond me.

We pulled out of Babylon, the train was now express to Jamaica;
about an hour away. The conductor made one last pass through the car
and disappeared into the closed first car. I turned around and
noticed There was only one other person in the car way off at the
other end, apparently sleeping. I smiled to see him so peaceful in
spite of the crying. My coffee was finished now, it seemed unlikely
I could get any sleep. I turned back to look at the woman and child.
I stared at her chest. The kid was flailing his arms about as he
cried and one of his fists kept hitting her chest and causing the
breasts to vibrate temptingly. I noticed that I was getting hard but
ignored it.

Then the woman reached up and touched her chin in an odd way. She
stopped her poetry and hummed instead. Moments later her jaw dropped
down several inches. She glanced over at me for the first time and I
pretended to stare out the window. I examined the sight from the
corner of my eye. Her jaw was very odd looking. It was as if the
entire bone had descended to in front of her Adam's apple. She began
to undress the child. The screams seemed louder and now unable to
reach her bosom with its hands, the kid managed to keep her chest
jiggling by kicking. I was rubbing myself through my jeans. My
erection was very much un-ignorable.

Then she did something unnatural. She stretched her mouth open wider
than the kid's skull. I guessed she must of dislocated her jaw or
something when it fell down. The wrinkled skin of her lips was now
stretched taut. Her face looked as distorted as something in a funny
mirror, but it didn't look old. I opened my fly and pulled out my
penis, much turned on by the kink value of this new development. She
lifted the baby up to her mouth and it seemed to go crazy with fear.
She held its arms still and began to slip the skull in her mouth. It
was a tight fit. I was masturbating now, not even thinking how odd
it must be to do it in such a public place.

She leaned her head back and lifted the baby above her so that
gravity would help push it down her throat. The baby began to
urinate out of fear. The stream sprayed against the wall the seats
in front. She was slowly pushing the child down her throat.  The
loose skin of her neck was filling out with the meal. Once the whole
head was in her mouth she stopped and sealed her lip around its
throat. I squeezed my glans and frenum together with my thumb and
forefinger with each stroke. The waves of pleasure flowed
wonderfully from the pressure. The pissing had stopped and the baby
was slowing down. The urine on the walls still dripped.

The woman was quite still for several minutes and I slowed my
masturbation to keep me going for the whole thing. It was a long
time after the baby had ceased to move that she began to start
swallowing. She held on to the child's feet and slowly lowered them
as her throat strained to engulf the body. I wondered at once how
she could breathe, but then put the thought out of my mind. I was
enjoying this too much to question it.

Her mouth and throat were grossly distorted from the human norm and
her chest was beginning to swell with the meal and I had never been
so turned on in all my life. My hand was rubbing hard, squeezing,
and pulling, and I didn't care that I had no lube and that I was
chafing. Her meal was progressing so slowly that I feared I may not
be able to hold my cum till she was done. Already the precum was
showing and I was thrashing away. But either my perception of time
changed or she began to work faster. I was coming and she was up to
the knees of baby and I had a huge amount of spunk to milk out and
she was eating faster and faster. I was stroking my semi-hard shaft
as I watched the lump in her throat that was the infant's feet
disappear into her bloated torso.

She reached up to push her jaw back into place. I pulled out a
napkin that I had gotten with my coffee. I used it to wipe up the
thick semen as best I could. Then I put the coarse, sticky paper in
the empty coffee cup. I eased my genitals back into my pants and
closed my fly. The lump was settling into the woman's stomach and
her face had returned to normal proportions with very loose skin
when I next glanced over.

She collected her belongings into the baby bag and stood up. She
walked over to me and pulled out a box of Djarums. She held out
one. I looked at it a moment. I collected my garbage, stood and took
the offered cigarette. Together we walked silently to the far exit
of the car. She took a cigarette for herself. In the vestibule
between the cars she offered me a light and then lit up herself.

In silence we waited in the noisy cubicle as the train slowed for
the approach to Jamaica station. She finished her cigarette first
and tossed it out on the tracks. There was one last movement in her
stomach that I saw. I stubbed out the cigarette and put the butt in
the coffee cup.

We pulled into the station. "I'm taking the E train," she told me.

"I'm transferring to go into Woodside," I told her.

The doors opened. We stepped out. She leaned over and gave me a
brief kiss on the lips. I hugged her. She turned and walked down the
platform to the exit to the subways. I tossed out the coffee cup and
crossed the platform to board the waiting train.


Elijah
------
this is the one I'm (in)famous for

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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