Angel and Charlie met aboard a train of nudist camp seminar attendees on a hot summer day in wine country. Seated side by side, they too were clothing-optional.

The train was filled almost to capacity. As the train negotiated curves and hills, expanses of human flesh bounced and jiggled. Some flesh was white and loose; some tan and taut; some white and taut; some tan and loose.

A vendor walked the aisles offering his wares. "Towels! Get your towels here! Blindfolds! Get your blindfolds here!"

The travelers seemed bored. They had seen it all. In their nudist community they had played volleyball, frisbee, leapfrog and bridge. The proximity of nude bodies had become less than titillating to them. Ho hum, don't Doris' breasts look perky today? Yawn . . . look at that, Herb's got quite an erection there.

"Nice tan," Charlie said to Angel, breaking the ice.

"Oh, thanks! I just got over a painful sunburn though. I'm Angel, by the way."

"Charlie."

"Towel? Blindfold?" Angel mockingly teased him.

"Ha! No thanks. Maybe later." He laughed.

"Do you attend these conventions regularly?" Angel asked.

"No. This is my first time."

"Mine too." She giggled.

"I didn't realize how jarring train travel could be," he observed.

"Me either. I should have worn my support bra."

"May I share something with you?" Charlie asked.

"Certainly."

"Angel, I would like to get...clothed with you..."

"Charlie...I must admit that this kind of talk gets me really hot..."

"Did you bring any clothes?" He asked.

"Yes..."

"Tell me...what articles did you bring?..." He trailed off, beginning to sweat.

"A baggy tee shirt. Stretch pants. Clogs..."

Their eyes met. They knew. It had been decided in a split second. It was meant to be. They clumsily stood up on the moving train and fumbled in the overhead compartment for their carry-ons. Gathering their bags, they strode, with difficulty, towards the rear of the car. They lost their balance several times and had to grasp passengers' seats to steady themselves.

They found a restroom. It was unoccupied. In they went, locking the door.

It was small but clean, and would do in a pinch.

Fevered, they opened their bags and began to rummage. Seductively, Angel removed a pair of pink cotton socks, one by one, from her bag.

She slowly, teasingly, put on each, sliding them over her toes, feet, and ankles, before yanking them up her calves. "More...please...more!" Charlie begged.

Angel pulled out her favorite oversized white cotton panties. She lifted and put one leg through, then the other, before pulling them up tight.

She firmly smoothed and pressed out the wrinkles and lovingly adjusted the crotch.

"Oh yes. Put it on, baby!...put it on! " Charlie shivered.

On went Angel's oversized black tee shirt.

It draped her breasts and belly. It hung almost to her knees. She smoothed it out. Her knees were getting weak.

"Now you!" She implored Charlie.

His hands were shaking. He started with gray sweat socks and worked them over his rangy feet and calves.

"Oh Yes!" Angel cried.

He pulled on large comfy white boxer shorts, which had a sporty trout print, achieving a pup tent effect. "Yes!..."

He pulled on a large gray sweat shirt, and pulled up the sleeves. He yanked on a pair of baggy jeans, and struggled to zip them. "YES!..."

They could wait no longer. They stroked one another through layers of clothing and moaned.

"Mmmm...cotton knit!" Exclaimed Charlie. "What kind of fabric softener do you use?!"

"Mmmm...old denim!" Gushed Angel.

"I use Downy!" She sputtered. "In the rinse cycle, not in the dryer!"

Charlie and Angel liked to talk during sex.

"Hurry!" Angel pleaded, as she struggled with Charlie's zipper.

Rearranging their clothes, yet not undressing, Angel and Charlie would soon be united. Fumbling and flailing towards screaming ecstacy, they were surrounded by tons of screeching, vibrating steel, which seemed to organically flow with, and sexually power them.

They would later become Amtrak Sex Fetishists.

Their assignation was a tricky one: Angel sat, legs askew, on a high, vibrating, narrow steel sink, as Charlie adroitly stood tip toe, facing her shaking, mobile form. "Will you be having foreplay?" Charlie loudly asked. "Sure!" Angel began to stroke herself. "Nooo! Let me!..."

His hands caressed and his fingers entered her, as she slipped and slid across the sink's surface, from its level sides into its oval concavity, her legs flailing wide and high.

Charlie could wait no longer: he grasped himself and took aim.

"Hey! Wait a minute! What about oral sex?!" Implored Angel.

"No thanks! Could be risky. It's a bumpy ride."

"No-o-o...I meant for me!"

Game for sporting sex, Charlie geared up.

See the ball. Be the ball. Bing bang boom!

He was in.

The train speedily negotiated curves and vibrated. Charlie and Angel were almost separated as the train took a sharp curve.

"We need Velcro!" Angel gasped.

"There's no time!" Charlie yelled.

He was right.

In a daze, they made their way from the restroom back to their seats.

Onlookers gasped, shocked at Charlie and Angel's clothed countenance. They knew.

Charlie and Angel blushed and took their seats.