Читать книгу Train 653 - Angela Yvette Thurman - Страница 10

Chapter 6

While he was laying on the floor in the railcar, he began to smell his own body odor. The smell was unbearable, and he knew that he had to wash his ass soon. His shoes were growing mold, and his clothes were torn from when he was thrown from the train by Lewis and his gang.

That night, he broke into a department store and stole some clothes and a pair of shoes. The store had a rollout bed and bathroom for the manager when he stayed all night going over the books or taking inventory of the store. Sydney was now clean, shaved, and he even cut the tangles out of his hair. All he wanted now was a bottle of whiskey and a woman because he had not had sex since he fucked Olivia. He wished that she was there now to satisfy his needs.

The more he thought about her, the harder he became, causing him to get angry. Pleasing himself was not the same as being with a woman. Sydney put his pants back on and left the train in search for any women who would let him fuck her. After sitting in a tavern for only fifteen minutes, an old woman came up to him and whispered in his ear. He looked at her with such disgust and sent her on her way. He had no plans on giving anyone money for sex. Finally he headed back to the train, more horny than before, then he remembered that woman who lived in an old shack behind the railyard. He knew that she lived alone, except for her cats with a lot of kittens. He had to devise a plan to get her into bed, which he thought would be easy since she was not attractive in any way.

He sat on a stoop in her front yard, drinking his whiskey in order to build up the courage to knock on the door, but before he knew it, she was standing beside him and asked if she could have a drink of his whiskey. He offered her his bottle and she took a very deep sip and then she said, “I have not had a drink in a while, I hope that you brought more than one bottle with you.”

He told her that he did not, and she told him to go get more. She asked him if he had anything to eat and he told her that it had been a few days and he would love to have supper with her. She sent him on his way, and she went in to make them something to eat. As he walked away, he questioned her motives. Why was she so willing to accept me into her home? he asked himself. Then he thought that he should head back to the train, but then he said, “Fuck it,” and bought another bottle of whiskey for them to share.

Walking back to her house, he could smell something that made his mouth water. He had no idea what it was, but he liked the smell of it. She opened the door, and to his surprise, her shack was fresh and clean. Her furniture was old and torn, but never the less it was comfortable. Her table was covered with a lace tablecloth and enough food fit for a king. He felt honored that she had cooked so much for him, that he began to feel guilty about how he had planned to fuck her just to satisfy his urges. In order to feel better about himself, he introduced himself as Syd. She told him that her name was Gertrude Maynard, but everyone called her Trudy.

“Everyone,” he said, then he asked her if she was married and had children. She told him that she was alone, and she started to cry, which put him in a position he did not want to be in.

He asked her why she was sad, and she told him that she used to be well-off when she lived in town. She said that she had lost everything overnight and was forced to live across the tracks because of a scandal. He poured her a drink and she wiped her tears and they began to eat. He tried not to look directly at her because he did not want to make her feel uncomfortable, but the glimpse that he got of her, he realized that she was not bad to look at. The only thing that he found unsightly about her was her eyes—one of them seemed to be off-centered. But when he saw her smile, he fell in love.

It was getting late, and he still had not made a move on her nor did she show any signs that she wanted him until he stood up to leave. She told him that she was aware of the fact that he slept in the abandoned railcar and that if he wanted to, he could stay there with her. Even though she did not have much, he was more than welcomed. Before he took her up on her offer, he wanted to clear the air first. He told her that he left his job at the railroad in pursuit of a better life. He told her about being robbed of his $600 and some personal items. When he spoke about it, he became angry all over again. Trudy took him by the hand and led him into her tiny bedroom, which was lit from the glow of a candle on the nightstand. Sydney could feel the blood rushing to his penis—for the first time he wanted to make love instead of fuck.

Trudy was six years his senior, but he did not care because the softness of her touch made him melt. Gracefully she undressed and laid on her bed. He was not so graceful as he stepped out of his shoes and dropped his pants to his ankles, getting ready to mount her.

Abruptly, she sat up and told him that she wanted him nude, which he had never done before. Most of the time, he had to be quick when he had sex because they were whores, and he had to fuck them wherever he could—sometimes it was outside behind a building or in the railcar.