The whole thing had happened in a whirlwind. I was still young and naive, traveling across the country for the first time since I turned 18. The trip itself wasn't anything special. It was a cross-country trip to a gaming convention of all places. The journey, how I got there though...

So there was this girl, as there so often is. We met online, in an IRC channel in some random corner of the internet. I was a pimple-faced young man who had very little self-confidence, a side effect of having homeschooled through high-school. But, I still managed to get out there and find people to talk to, if only through the internet. The channel was really hopping that night. Someone had decided to ask what we all looked like. There was a whirlwind of compliments flying around to everyone in the chat who'd put up a picture. Curiosity got the better of me, and I scrambled to get my digital camera out, take a selfie with the timer, and get it uploaded.

At that point, I learned I didn't really need to be so self conscious.

The compliments came in a torrent. "You're so hot!" "I want to see more!" "I want one!"

But, there was one girl who didn't comment in the main chat. She /msg'd me. "Hey, you're actually really cute."

"Yeah?" I responded. "Why do you say that?"

"You've got a handsome face. The hair could use a little work but... you're definitely hot."

Conversation turned into more picture sharing. Each picture she shared, a piece of clothing came off. It got to the point where the legality of what we were both doing was in question. I didn't want to send any more pictures, I didn't want her to send any more pictures. I wanted to Skype.

And boy, did we Skype.

Flash forward about six months and dozens of Skype sessions later. It was about a week away from my trip to the convention. I was talking about my trip in the channel. I was taking the Amtrak, and one of the legs I was taking happened to correspond to a trip she was taking the same day.

She changed trains.

The leg we were going to share was going to be about 22 hours long. A trip long enough that I wasn't even sure what we were going to fill the time with. Neither of us had a sleeper car. Just seats. We met up at the station, where I was nervously buried in my phone, glancing up and around until I finally saw her. Trying my best to avoid looking like I was too excited to see her.

We boarded the train and hung out in our seats for all of five minutes before heading to the skylounge car. We sat, staring out the window waiting for the train to clear a section of track on which there was a long delay. We talked about the weather, my trip so far, what my plans for the rest of the trip were. I don't remember what we'd gotten on about, but I got lost in what she was saying, too preoccupied with her lips to actually comprehend what was coming out of them.

Mid-sentence, I dove in for the kiss. Our first kiss.

Conversation slowed for a bit. Neither of us quite knew what to say, and I was still trembling from having taken the first step. I was never so bold, though I was cheeky.

"You should talk more." I said. "Why?" she asked. "So I can shut you up again." "You could just kiss me, you know..."

From then, conversation happened in short little stints. We were making out so frequently that my lips throbbed from having been used so much. Neither of us ate, neither of us slept, at least for the first 12 hours or so. We were too enamored with each other's bodies to care about sleep or food.

We were still sitting in our coach seats making out when she grabbed my hand and guided it between her legs. Neither of us cared that there were people sleeping in the seats in front of, behind, and across from us. It was too late for restraint.

Rubbing the seam of her jeans quickly evolved into me fumbling with her button fly. We were still in our seats, diagonal across the row, as I slid her jeans down far enough to provide ready access to her panties. We did well to keep her covered as my fingers clumsily navigated their way into her underwear, learning the curves of her body, the shape of her lips. The clit piercing threw me off at first, but she took my hand in hers, guiding my fingers until they knew well enough what they were doing. The other travelers faded away as we became involved with each other's bodies. I stayed selfless for most of the night anxiously trying to find a way to break away from our seats to somewhere more private... but where?

Eventually we found it. The changing room. "This works" she said, locking the door behind her as I found somewhere comfortable to sit. She quickly began removing my jeans, making quick work of my zipper, yanking them down around my ankles taking my boxers with them.

She grabbed my penis in her hand, which after the three hours of foreplay we'd just had was sticky and hard. I was only 18, after all. She licked around the tip, teasing me, though I was already set to burst.

Her mouth slid slowly down my shaft, once. Twice. Three times. By the fourth time, I was done. I couldn't hold back anymore. She'd come to orgasm nine or ten times in our seats in coach, and all it'd taken back here was a lick and four strokes. It was embarrassing, but amazing. She didn't mind though. She could tell that I enjoyed it just as much as she had.

When we finally reached our destination, we were both exhausted. I had a few hours to wait for the next leg of my trip, and she was splitting off onto a different train for hers. We parted ways on her platform, but not before we were recognized by someone from our shared train. They walked up and said hello, and offered congratulations. We glanced at each other, puzzled. "The way you two were on the train was so adorable. I've always loved seeing newlyweds on their honeymoon. Always so in love..."

We looked at each other, smiled, and carried on until it was time for her train to leave the station as if we were a married couple, playing along with the idea that we'd planted in the heads of those around us.

As the train sounded the all-aboard, I took her in my arms, stared into her eyes, and kissed her one last time. "Maybe the next time we do this, it'll be our actual honeymoon"

"Nah. This was WAY more fun"

Five years have passed since that day, but each year around this time, I look back and smile at the 22 hours I spent with the girl from the internet. My friends still refer to her as "The Train Girl"