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   The Girl in the Yellow Sun Dress (M/f, Rom, Voy, Exhib)

   By Rzrsej

   Part 1 Many years ago, back in the 50s, I worked as an engineer for a
railroad company, I won't say who in case it might matter to them.  There
were only two of us who worked that particular trip, me and Joe, Memphis to
New Orleans and back every couple of days.  But the truth is, only one of
us was ever really around at a given time, since we liked to take turns
sacking out in one of the empty boxcars, two or --three hours at a stretch.

   Anyway, it wasn't too bad a stretch, though I suppose it did get a
little old going back and forth over the same ground so often.  Even so,
the territory was nice.  Some pieces were right up against the Mississippi,
others wound around here and there just this side of the Mississippi
border, and even when it was just trees on both sides, there were deer and
rabbits and squirrels and such here and there to kind of keep you company.
And anyway, every couple of hours you'd be back in the boxcar snoozing, so
all things considered, not a bad bit of work.

   There was this one time, though, for a few weeks actually, when it got
considerably more interesting.

   It wasn't just all nature going by beside us.  Every once in a while
we'd see someone, or a little group of folks, mostly when we went near
little towns or by crossroads - never many, but it's nice to get a wave and
a smile, maybe lay on the horn for a couple of blasts and get people to
cheering.

   Except this one time...

   We were about three hours south of Memphis, through a fair stretch of
woods, and I could see, coming up on the side of the tracks up ahead, a
little patch of yellow just to the right side.  That patch of yellow
eventually turned out to be a young lady, about 13 years old, just standing
there at the edge of the woods - no other folks in sight, just her.  She
was wearing a plain yellow sundress and stood there barefoot.  In many ways
she wasn't much to look at.  She had straight hair, mousy brown, that hung
to the middle of her back.  It looked like it could use a good brushing. 
Her skin was tan from the summer sun, and she was lanky, wiry sort of, with
hard muscles on skinny legs.

   If you looked close though, there was something there.  A sparkle in her
brown eyes maybe, the way she stood with one hip slightly pushed out to the
side, the way her dress clung to her just developing breasts.  She was cute
in a dirty, rustic sort of way.  You don't even really see girls like this
much any more.  I couldn't quite make out where she'd come from.  The last
town had been some fifteen miles back, and the next one wasn't due for
another ten.  She seemed all alone, though of course I couldn't see very
deep into the woods.

   As we moved slowly past, though, she gave me a big friendly grin, and I
couldn't help but grin back and wave.  She waved as well, and stood there
as the train slowly rolled past.  The last time I looked back, she had
become that same little patch of yellow, still standing there watching.

   ...

   As I said, we only came by every couple of days, so it was a couple of
days before we passed that stretch of rail again, this time coming back
from New Orleans.  I didn't expect to see her, wasn't looking for in fact.
The whole thing had faded away after a few beers and quick grope with a
street walker down in New Orleans.  There she was though, this time in a
little blue dress, with short puffy sleeves - simple, but beautiful in the
sunlight.  Again she wore no shoes and again she stood with her hip poked
out grinning and waving as I came down the track.  I couldn't help myself,
I decided to lay on the horn a little, just to give her a thrill.  After
all, she'd come out twice just to see us.  She loved it, giving a couple of
little jumps and clapping her hands.

   She was there the next few times we came by as well, and every time I'd
blow the whistle and she never seemed to be any less pleased.  Until...

   One afternoon we were passing the same spot, and I could see her up
ahead, in that same yellow dress I'd seen her in the first time.  And she
was waving and smiling as usual.  Only when I got right up to her, just as
the nose of the engine was coming up on her bare toes, she lifted that
dress up and held it shyly between here two hands, still looking at me, but
now giving me a long look at long legs and her pale blue panties.  She gave
a little twirl side to side and then, as I passed by, let the hem drop back
to her sides.  I was a little shocked.  I mean, it's not necessarily an
unusual thing to see a young girl pull up her dress without thinking about
it.  My own daughter does it regularly.  But she's only five, after all,
and this girl looked to be at least thirteen.  I considered she might be a
bit slow, but she didn't seem it: as she'd pulled the dress up she'd locked
eyes with me, giving me a knowing look that said she knew exactly what she
was up to.

   But if that was the case, it left me a little startled.  So startled in
fact that I didn't lay on the horn until we were two or three cars by her.
I thought about my own daughter, and how horrified I'd be if she were to
grow up and do something like this some day.  To tell the truth, I was
ashamed that I had seen it, and something in me wanted to stop the train,
go back and give her a stern lecture about being a proper young girl.

   And yet...

   The next two nights, as I lay next to my wife, our little one in the
room next door, I could only sleep in fits and starts, thinking about what
I had seen.  It wasn't even all that much, all things considered.  Just
skinny brown legs and a flat little tummy.  But it was those blue panties.
What, I kept thinking, was inside them?  And what was under the top of that
dress, above that flat belly?  The night before I went back on the road, I
fucked the wife thinking the whole time about this girl.  I didn't dare let
myself imagine her naked, but there she was all the same, her sundress up
and her blue panties tempting me.

   ...

   I'll confess that, for all my shame at my thoughts, I was hoping she'd
be there the next day.  And there she was, this time in a red dress, again,
simple.  And once again, she went through her routine - waving, smiling,
pulling up her dress to reveal a matching pair of red panties this time.  I
had made up my mind that morning what I would do if it happened again.  I'd
brought a dime along, something to give her, maybe encourage her to do
better for herself.  I laid it beside me in the engine, sitting there in
the sunshine all that morning.  When she raised up her skirt, I leaned out
the window and tossed the dime at her feet, where it lay there shining, as
she continued to stare at me.  When we had passed, she let down her skirt,
moved to where the dime lay on the ground and scooped it up neatly.

   I wasn't sure why I had done it.  I think I had told myself that morning
that I felt sorry for her, that I wanted to do something for her, give her
something, show her she could have some respect for herself.  But
afterwards, there was this dual feeling of shame and excitement, the way
I'd felt when I was younger and I'd first ventured down those back alleys
in New Orleans.  What I had done was basically the same I had done when I
paid dancers down in the Quarter, only this "dancer" was only a little
girl. And yet for all that, there were those brown legs, that brown belly,
that little piece of fabric between her legs.  And so, like the wicked man
I was, I made sure I had that dime in my pocket again when next I set out.
And I wasn't disappointed.  Maybe it was the dime I had offered that
escalated the game, or maybe she was just working herself up to something,
but this time when we arrived she raised the skirt before I got to her, and
this time there were no panties.  She gave me the same look, a kind of
curious sexuality mixed with delight that someone was seeing her.  In
thinking back on it now, I wonder if she lacked attention at home, wherever
home was.  At any rate, I had plenty of time as the train approached, to
move my eyes back and forth from her eyes to her thirteen year old slit. 
It seemed absolutely bare, and her groin shone white in contrast to the
deep tan of her legs.  As I passed, she turned slowly, so that I could see
her equally white behind, muscular like the rest of her.  I could barely
toss the coin to her, I was so breathless, but once again it landed near
her bare toes, and as the train moved on she dropped her hem, stooped down,
and picked it up.

   ...

   And so the game went on like that.  Each time I'd pass by, she'd be
there and I'd toss her a dime.  Each time she had something new to offer.
Oh, she would go backwards some time, reverting to her earlier shyness. 
Some days she'd have panties back on.  Some days none.  Some days she had
panties but pulled the dress up higher, revealing a pair of perfect 13 year
old breasts, again, pale white compared to the rest of her, with small dark
nipples in the middle.  Another day she pulled the dress up to show it all.
And then one day, as I saw her up ahead, she pulled the whole dress over
her head and dropped it to the ground beside her, standing there now
completely naked, her hip still poked out at an angle.  She stood like
that, stock still until I pulled by her and dropped her dime, letting at
least five more boxcars pass by before she reached down, picked up the
dress, and slid it back over her frame.

   The next time, she had grown even bolder.  At first, I didn't see her at
all, and wondered if she had grown tired of our game.  As I grew nearer
though, I realized the reason I hadn't seen her before was because she was
not standing.  Instead, she sat, her knees out in front of her, hands on
her knees, still looking at me, but daring me to look lower, to where her
legs were splayed apart so that the lips of her little pussy were now
opened just a bit, a tiny shining gleam of pink within.  I confess I did
look lower, that I could not really take my eyes off her snatch.  And then
there was the next time, when I arrived to find her lying on her back, her
hair splayed out behind her on the grass, knees bent, her index finger
pushed deep inside her, moving in an out, up to circle her clit, then back
down again to push inside.  All the while, her head lay on the ground, this
time with her eyes closed, as though the train didn't exist, as though she
were simply in a private little field masturbating away.  She didn't even
look up when I tossed the dime, and I had the impression then that all of
these visits, all of these moments had been like little photographs she was
offering me, little moments in time where she was frozen in some sultry
pose.  When I got back home that night, I actually made my wife masturbate
while I watched, even over her objections that such a request was the
strangest thing she'd ever heard.  But though I loved my wife, watching her
hands work through her bushy pubic hair just wasn't the same as what I had
seen that day on my journey.

   ...

   But my young girl was full of surprises, always hoping to catch me off
guard.  And so she did the next day.  As the train neared her accustomed
spot, I could see she was not alone.  I wondered at first if finally her
parents had discovered her secret life and come to put a stop to it once
and for all.  Instead, what I found were two more children.  Both had the
same hair coloring and wiry bodies, and it was clear they must be her
siblings.  The first was a girl, maybe two years younger than her sister,
dressed in a kind of blue sheath dress, very plain.  The second was a boy,
his hair close cropped to his head so that his ears seemed to stick out. 
He was probably another year or two younger again, maybe 8 or 9.  He wore
overalls with no shirt, and as his two sisters, was barefoot.  This time as
I passed, my girl reached down to the hem of her sister's dress, and in one
fluid motion pulled it over the younger girl's head.  For her part, the
younger sister looked down at her feet, clearly ashamed by what her sibling
had done, but she made no move to protest.  My own girl continued to look
me straight in the eye, this time daring me to see her sister's nudity. 
And again, I confess I did look.  If anything, the younger girl was softer,
more rounded than her elder.  Her slit was even smaller, and she had no
breasts to speak of, only puffy round aureoles where those tits would
someday be.  She was much like her sister, but the contrast made me all the
more attuned to what I was seeing.  I'll just say it plain - it made me
even hornier.

   The next time I came by I made sure I had three dimes with me rather
than one.  The game continued much as before, only now two girls offered
themselves to my eyes instead of one.  Sometimes they would both be naked.
Sometimes only one.  Sometimes they would wear dresses they would pull up.
Sometimes they were totally nude when I arrived.  Once or twice, just as I
came by, the older girl leaned over, turned the younger girl's face to hers
and kissed her full on the lips.  All this time, the brother remained as he
was, always in the same overalls, and usually with his eyes straight ahead
or down towards his feet.

   ...

   Then the day came when things changed once again.  All three children
stood stock still next to the tracks, almost like spirits come to haunt me.
Boy, oldest girl, youngest girl, all in a row, all three clothed this day,
though barefoot.  When she knew I could see her, the oldest, keeping her
eyes locked on me, took her right hand and thrust it into her brother's
overalls.  There was no way of knowing for sure, but I knew - he'd have no
underwear on under there.  Her hand, which I saw massaging inside his
britches, held his little cock.  I could almost feel that hand myself, on
my own cock, and I reached down and rubbed myself through my own pants. 
Somehow her eyes seemed to suggest she was thinking about me too, though I
have no way of really knowing that, like she was imagining holding me,
massaging me.

   With the girls in New Orleans I was suddenly in the mood for hand jobs,
but no matter how dainty and delicate their hands, no matter how soft, I
knew those hands could not compare to my girl's.  Another time when I came
by she was naked, her hand still working inside his pants.  Then another
time she was clothed and her sister stood beside her naked while she
stroked her brother.  Then only he was naked, his young body much like
theirs, his three inch penis standing straight at attention while she
stroked him slowly.  And then came the day when she was on her knees, naked
herself, her sister naked behind her, sucking her brother slowly, moving
him in and out of her mouth, holding him pointed upwards so she could lick
his hairless little scrotum.  I threw my dimes as usual, and knew that
something would have to happen, and soon.

   Part 2

   I'm not honestly sure how much longer things might have gone on.  My
girl had seemed to have endless variations to play before, but now that
she'd added two players to the game, it really did seem like this could go
on forever.  And though I still clung to my feelings of shame, I had given
up on trying to fight my feelings of pure lust.  Life, in many ways had
become almost unbearable.  Every few days a new show, but never any
possibility of real release.  Oh, I came.  God how many times I came over
those few months, with my wife, with whores, on my own.  I had wanted
desperately to pull myself out as the train went by and jerk myself off as
I passed.  Perhaps I could lean out the door and cum as I threw my dimes.
Only I never went so far.  It just seemed so wrong.

   Only the next time we passed, the next time...

   It was late July, and nearly 100 degrees, but much hotter in the engine
with all the equipment raging around me.  Joe was in the back somewhere,
completely forgotten.  There she stood, in her yellow dress, the same one
she had worn on that very first afternoon, her hair the same, her eyes the
same through the glare of the heat.

   I was still some ways off when I realized that, next to her on the
ground her sister was on her hands and knees, naked, her own hair falling
over her face, as her little brother stood behind her, naked as well,
holding her hips in his hands and pulling her towards him over and over. 
He was fucking her.  I couldn't see his cock, but there was no doubt.  And
she was helping in every way she could, rocking her own hips back to meet
his thrust, and occasionally reaching down between her legs to rub her clit
as they went at it.  My girl stood beside them, looking at me, her hip
cocked out the way she used to do it.  It was more than I could stand.  I'm
not really even sure what I intended to do, but I acted without thinking.

   Before I reached their little scene, I positioned myself in the engine
doorway and stretched my arm out imploringly.  She knew what I was asking,
and she didn't hesitate.  In one swift motion I had pulled her into the cab
with me and was holding her like the child she was, her legs dangling off
my left arm.  I kissed her then, our tongues entwining.  I never bothered
to look back to check to see if the brother and sister were still at it.  I
no longer cared.  I sat her down then, her bare feet on the dirty floor of
the engine room, and with my own hands I took her dress and pulled it over
her head.  She was naked beneath, and I held her to me, her head not even
reaching my chest, and ran my hand over her smooth bare skin.  She
whispered one word into my heavy work shirt, so muffled I almost missed it:
"Gretchen."

   There was a work table, bolted just inside the door to the cabin and I
lifted her easily and sat her there, her ass on the edge, her long legs
hanging down.  Then, kneeling down on the dirty floor myself, I moved
between her legs.  She rested her dirty feet on my shoulders and placed her
hands on my head as I moved closer until I was inches from her thirteen
year old slit.  I realized now that it was not completely hairless as it
had seemed from the distance of my perch in the engine.  Instead there
where tiny wisps of blonde hair just above her clit and dotting the lips of
her vagina.  Using my thumbs, I pulled back the lips, revealing the folds
inside, the tiny clit and the little hole just above her asshole.  Keeping
the lips pulled back, I pushed my tongue deep inside her.  Her hands pulled
my head even more closely into her groin, as I flicked my tongue back out
and up to her clit.  I circled it, leaving a wet trail of my own saliva
behind, then returned to tongue-fuck her vagina as I used my thumb to push
gently against the button.  At moments I would push my thick finger inside
her.  At others I held her bottom in my two hands.  She was so small, I
felt as though I could hold the whole of her that way.  All the while she
closed her eyes, wiggled contentedly and guided my head here and there.

   I don't know how long this went on.  It seemed to me that I had never
tasted anything as sweet as her juices, that I had never touched anything
so soft as the skin of her labia.  At length though, I could hear her
breath becoming shallower, feel her body tense ever so slightly.  Her lips
parted and she let a low moan and a short "uggh," and she was cumming, her
body spasming with each new wave until at last she only lay back on the
table and shivered.  I brushed her hair gently with my hand, and let her
lie there for a time.  When at last she opened her eyes, I found her dress
in a corner of the engine and slipped it back over her taught body.  She
still said nothing, and I could only faintly remember now the whisper of
her name, but she couldn't simply stay in the engine with me until we
reached Memphis.  For one thing, I knew Joe would be up eventually.  He
knew nothing about my little meetings with Gretchen and her siblings, and I
had no intention of telling him.  For another, even if I hadn't seen her
home or family, I knew she surely belonged somewhere, somewhere she needed
to get back to.

   I sat her, now clothed, back onto the table, where her legs dangled, and
explained to her what to do.  I would put her gently back on the ground and
she was to wait there.  In an hour, a southbound train would come along,
and I instructed her on how to pull herself up onto one of the cars without
being noticed.  I figured we had traveled about an hour and told her to
hang on to the car for about that long, until she saw signs of home.  I
asked her if she would recognize the place and she nodded solemnly.  I
slowed the engine down to a crawl, and lifted her up lightly by one arm and
set her on the ground as we continued to move.  She waved once to me and
smiled broadly.  Then, in a few moments, we were past there and she was
gone.

   ...

   She came alone now, when we would pass, and each time I would lift her
up with me and eat her out until she came.  She never seemed to get tired
of this new game.  Sometimes she would come once and lie back, and other
times she would push herself, over the edge, so that she came two or three
times before she finally relaxed her grip on my head.  On still other
occasions, I would kiss her as I worked a finger in and out of her, my body
seeming to completely cover hers until her breathing would grow shallow and
she would let out that low moan and the little grunt.  I was in love with
her body, and I explored every inch of it with my eyes, my hands, my mouth.
Then she would dress, I would set her down by the tracks and she would
catch the next train back.

   The day finally arrived when the game changed once again though, and as
usual I was caught off guard, still expecting the same old thing.  On this
day she was standing before me, naked, looking at me with her big brown
eyes, only as I moved to lift her to the table she said softly, "no."

   Then with tiny brown hands, she reached for my belt buckle and began to
undo it.  She was so cute in her earnestness, her tongue slipping slowly
out of her mouth as she concentrated, that I very nearly laughed, but I
knew that would be a mistake.  When the buckle was at last undone and the
belt dangled on each side, she went to work on my button and zipper.  I
began to help her a bit here and there, until at last, every clasp undone,
she took my pants and pulled them roughly to the ground.  I was rock hard
by this time.  She took time to look me over, using her right hand to turn
me this way and that.  I was bigger than her brother, of course, six inches
or so, with plenty of hair.  She stroked her fingers through it once or
twice, then pressed her lips to the side of the shaft in a kiss.

   Then she took the shaft in both hands and began to rub, pulling me
towards her with each tug.  Opening her mouth, she took the head in.  It
seemed by itself to make her checks puff out.  She held me there in her
mouth, resting atop her tongue, as her two hands continued to work me back
and forth, faster and faster.  I closed my eyes and simply felt her, not
only her mouth around my dick but her flat belly against my legs, her
breasts pushed against my thighs.  It was more than I could bear and at
some point I used my hand to gently push her head back so I could cum.  As
the jets began to shoot out of me though, she moved closer to it, holding
it in her hand and occasionally licking a glob into her mouth.

   It was the next time.  The foreplay, it seemed was over.  Once again she
wore the yellow dress, and once again I lifted it over her head, exposing
her muscular body, the growing mounds of her tits, the fuzzy cleft between
her legs.  This time, though, she lay down in front of me.  The floor was
filthy, but she lay there as though on a bed of white linen, opening her
legs for me and inviting me in.  I knew what she wanted, and though in some
ways I had hoped this day would never come, I also knew I couldn't help
myself.

   Standing over her, I undid my own pants, my shirt, even my shoes.  I
wanted to feel this girls' skin against my own.  She only looked up and
watched.  When at last I was naked, I knelt down between her legs.  I
rubbed my own saliva on my cock til it was glistening and dripping, knowing
we would need all the lubrication we could get to make this work.  And it
only barely worked.

   At first it didn't seem to at all.  Gretchen closed her eyes, as I
positioned the head of my cock at her pussy.  Every time I tried to push,
though, it seemed to slide away, and I became convinced I was just too big.
By holding the head tightly between my thumb and forefinger though, I was
able to squeeze it to the point where it just began to slip in.  I pushed
slowly, until just the head was inside her.

   Her body had tensed as she absorbed the pain of being stretched. 
Between her tenseness and her size, it felt as though my dick were in a
vice, and I wondered whether this was worth it.  We stayed like that,
motionless, for five minutes, holding each other tightly.  Eventually,
though, she began to relax, muscle by muscle it seemed as the pain
subsided. It was still slow going, and I never managed to get much more
than the head into her, but she was more determined than anyone I've ever
seen, slowly, ever so slowly using her feet to push her hips up towards me
until little by little we developed a rhythm.  It only took moments once
that started though, before the friction inside of her, stuffed as she was
with cock, brought on her shallow breathing again.  She pulled me against
her, spreading her legs as wide as they would go and burying her face into
my chest.  As her muscles contracted, so did mine, and I felt myself
exploding inside her, so much cum that I feared it would squirt out the
sides of her pussy.  In fact, when at last I pulled myself out, her lips
were covered in my jizz.  She only giggled and used her fingers to spread
it over her entire pussy.

   Part 3

   And that's where you should leave things, if you have a romantic streak
in you.  I try, when I think back on that time, to leave things there, not
to remember the next fifteen minutes.  And yet they won't ever quite go
away.

   There was a quiet cough from above us - quiet, but designed to be
noticed.  Standing in the doorway was Joe, awake at last, and taking in the
sight of these two mismatched lovers lying in the grime of the floor. 
"Looks like you got yourself some entertainment without me," he smirked. 
"Think I'll take a turn." And with that, he began unbuttoning his own
shirt.

   "No," Gretchen whispered looking from him to me.

   Joe was a slovenly specimen of a man.  Balding with a sizeable paunch
and a red face, he shuffled rather than walked.  He was also, I realized,
as his pants felt to the floor, the buckle making a sad thump, bigger than
me.  Not by much, but by enough.  If I had nearly split Gretchen in two,
there was no way she could take him on, especially not with the eager grin
he had on his face now, a grin that said he planned to be anything but
gentle.

   "No," I echoed Gretchen's words.  "Forget it, Joe.  She's just a girl."

   "That didn't seem to keep you from having a bit of fun, now did it?" he
said.

   Ignoring this, but knowing at some point I'd feel that shame deep in my
gut again, I pressed on.  "I mean it, Joe.  You lay one finger on her and
I'll kill you.  I swear it."

   Joe stepped back, stroking his cock so that little by little it began to
harden.  "Here's the thing, Cal," he said, his eyes taking in every inch of
the young girl in front of him.  "Unless I get a little taste of this, I'm
going to have some story to tell when we get back to Memphis.  Things won't
go too well for you, I'd think.  Hell, I'm not even just talking about the
job either.  They might string you up for this."

   I knew he was right, and hung my head, looking sheepishly in Gretchen's
direction.  The horror and disgust had not left her face, but when she
looked at me, only for a second, I read something in those eyes, something
that said she was resigned to her fate.  "Turn over," Joe spoke to Gretchen
then.  "I want to look at that little asshole of yours while I fuck you."

   Gretchen turned over obediently, rolling onto her stomach and then
lifting herself so she was positioned on her hands and knees.  I moved
around so I was kneeling before her face, helpless to do anything more than
try to provide some comfort.  Her brown eyes looked into mine, and I
reached out a hand and stroked her ragged hair.

   Joe was down on his own knees, positioning himself behind her.  Using
his big hands, he spread the cheeks of her ass apart and took a long look.
"Little girl's asshole is amazing" he said to himself.  Then, taking his
cock in his hand, he put it just at the entrance to her vagina and shoved
himself in.  He didn't have the trouble I had getting in - there was enough
of my cum on her to serve as lubricant, but that didn't change the fact
that he was bigger than me and she was sore from our recent session.  She
let out a gasp and tensed, but unlike me he had no intention of stopping.
In and out he pounded, and each time she let out another gasp.  I held her
face to me and refused to look at what he was doing.

   At some point, though, even her ragged pussy began to react to the way
it was being stretched and filled, this time even more deeply than I had
dared go.  As he rammed into her, I could once more hear her breath change,
see her body tense, her toes curl up behind her as she gave a tremendous
grunt and began fucking herself into him, sobbing and moaning at the same
time.  The mercy of this was that Joe himself couldn't be contained with
that kind of movement beneath him and almost instantly he too began to cum,
grunting loudly, grabbing her hips with his hands and shoving himself as
deeply into her as he could go and then remaining stock still as he shot
everything he had into her pussy.

   Her thighs were covered in cum as she collapsed onto her stomach, from
both of us.  But the indignity wasn't quite over.

   "Guess it's time you got off," Joe chuckled to her.  "Can't have you on
board when we arrive, can we?" Gretchen rolled over, sat up, and began
looking for her dress.

   "Oh, that yellow thing?" Joe laughed again.  "I threw that out before I
interrupted the two of you.  Just a little insurance."

   There was nothing else for it.  I helped Gretchen to her feet and held
her close to me, feeling her soft skin one more time.  Then, without a
word, I picked her up and sat her down, naked, beside the train tracks, as
we rolled slowly out of sight.  I have no idea how she managed to get home
in that condition.

   Epilogue

   Gretchen disappeared after that.  No more shows on the side of the
tracks, no more trysts in the engine room.  I never saw here again but
once. Just about eight months later, I was traveling the same stretch of
railroad.  Joe was long gone.  He'd requested a transfer to another route
just after his little performance, knowing if he didn't make himself scarce
I'd have my revenge.  My new partner, Blake, was blissfully asleep in one
of the cars behind me, unaware that anything had ever happened worth noting
on the Memphis-New Orleans route.

   I had given up on ever seeing Gretchen again.  Sometimes I wondered,
fearfully if perhaps she hadn't made it home.  Might someone else have
taken advantage of a naked thirteen year old girl as she made her way along
the tracks?  Still, I often daydreamed about her, particularly when we came
to that spot on the track where she had always put on her show.  I knew it
was wrong.  After what had happened, I felt that in my bones now.  But as
usual the guilt and shame mixed with hungry desire and longing for the
amazing experience I'd had.

   And then, one afternoon as we neared the place I saw up ahead a figure
tanned brown by the sun.  As we grew closer, I could see it was her.  She
stood there nude, as she often had, alone this time.  She had changed.  The
baby inside her made her so big and round I couldn't see her pussy at all,
just the same muscular legs beneath her torso.  Her breasts had grown - not
quite to a woman's size perhaps, but heavy with milk.  Her hair was in two
braids, tied with yellow ribbons at the end.  She stood there, one hand
holding her belly, as we approached.  There was nothing more to say or do.
It was over.  But she looked in my eyes as always, and on her face was a
thoughtful smile.

   I never saw her again.

   The End