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. Roundabouts 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.

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