You know those ads for Amtrak that say the train is the best way to see America? Well believe it! You never know who you will meet, or what you will see on a train.

I work for a bank in New York City, and have had frequent occasions to travel, mostly to Chicago. Now, I'm not much of a flier - I'll do it if I have to - but I'm really one of those guys who believes that if man were meant to fly, God would have given him wings. Luckily, I'm usually able to wrangle a little travel time out of personnel, either that, or I travel on the weekends, and I take the train. It's relaxing, I have time to myself to catch up on my reading, and I always wind up meeting interesting people. There was a used car dealer from Texas who was a riot, the college students from Indiana who got me into a card game in the lounge car, and many others. Heck, I had dinner with the mayor of Syracuse once!

My favorite train is the Lake Shore Limited. It goes up the Hudson to Albany, then across to Buffalo, then finally through Cleveland, Toledo, and South Bend to Chicago. It pulls in about noon, giving me time to get in a Monday afternoon meeting, just like if I flew.

One trip almost a year ago was especially memorable, if you get my drift. I usually try to get a berth in the sleeping car on my trips. Coach is OK, but I usually wind up with a sore neck from sleeping sitting up. Besides, I can afford the splurge. So anyway, I had booked a roomette, one seat that folds into a bed, but when I got on in New York, they had overbooked. I thought only airlines did that! So they bumped me up to a bedroom. Really nice and roomy, with a bench seat that folds down into a wide bed, and a bunk up above. I certainly wasn't about to complain about my good fortune. I was pretty beat after a tiring two-thirds of a weekend, and looked forward to a good bit of sack time.

So after spreading out in my spacious accommodations, and finishing up the Sunday Times, I headed to the dining car for a little dinner. I love dinner on the train. Amtrak has put a little plastic into it, but it is still a neat experience having a meal with the countryside flashing by. When you are a single traveler like me, the head steward will seat other singles or a couple at the table with you. It makes things more efficient, and also allows you to meet and talk to someone else over dinner.

Well, I was pretty early, so I had a table to myself. I was enjoying a little vino, trying to decide between the baked chicken and the lasagna, and was looking out over the Hudson with a full moon. This trip was going to be a good one, I could tell. The steward brought me back from the moonlit river, and was motioning for someone else to sit across from me.

I don't think words can describe the vision that appeared in front of me then. My first thought was that God had sent me an angel, she was that beautiful. She said "mind if I join you?" with a soft, seductive voice. I would have stood up like a gentleman, but the growing bulge in my pants said no. Instead, I said "please, it will be my pleasure," and made a welcoming gesture with my hand that knocked my wine glass over. Both of us laughed, me out of embarrassment.

Well, the spilt wine turned out to be the perfect icebreaker. We settled into a conversation over some more wine, and I have to say it was one of the most enchanting dinners I've ever had. Her name was Carolyn, but her friends called her 'Sid'. She was on her way home to Cleveland after visiting her grandparents and brother on Long Island, and took the train because it was cheaper than flying. She was 25, a receptionist at the newspaper there, and beautiful.

How can I describe her? Well, she was tall and blonde - reminded me a little of Jessica Lange, and a little bit of that girl on Friends, what's her name? The ditzy one that sings those weird songs. Anyway, she had a nice face with the cutest button nose. She had the bluest eyes I've ever seen, and a warm smile that made me feel like I had known her for years, when I should have been nervous as all get-out. I noticed that her eyes were the slightest bit crooked - one was just a little higher than the other one. On top of all that, she had great hair.

No matter how I look at a woman, I always end up at her hair. My buddies think I'm a little odd, but I think you can tell a lot about a woman by looking at her hair- how she wears it, how it is cared for, how she touches it even. Those guys never seem to get past a woman's tits. I consider myself a connoisseur of hair, especially long hair. A nice head of long hair will stay in my memory for a long time, and will turn me on in no time.

Carolyn's hair looked long, though it was hard to tell how long. She had it up in a huge French twist that came up above the top of her head. Her twist looked neat, but not perfect. Her hair was a nice honey blonde and looked quite healthy and well pampered. Framing those deep blue eyes, cute nose, and great smile were these wonderful, wispy bangs. I'm not a fan of bangs at all, but Carolyn changed my mind for good. They were just a little too long. They almost got into her eyes, and fell around them and her cheeks. A couple of curly strands came all the way down to her tits like they had fallen out of the twist or something. The effect of all this was mesmerizing. When I wasn't staring at her twist, trying to figure out how much hair was hidden in it, I was tracing the silky wisps around her cheeks that blushed everytime she laughed.

To be honest, I was surprised at how well we hit it off. It seemed like destiny. Yeah, that's a little corny, but how else could I describe it? We talked about all kinds of things, and I found myself opening up to her about things that I normally wouldn't tell anyone. We sat there all through dinner, until we were the last ones in the diner. I had no concept of time, and was staring at her so intently, I was shocked when the steward dimmed the lights and asked us to leave.

I told her I was in the sleeper, and she said words which should be recorded in history books. "I've walked through the sleeping car, but have never seen what it looks like inside. Mind if I take a peek?" I said "sure, follow me." What else did you think I was going to say? As we worked our way through the swaying coaches she put a hand on my shoulder to steady herself. Her touch was so soft, I thought my knees were going to buckle.

We finally got to my compartment, and led her through the door, my hand on her waist. I faintly remember the porter looking up at me and winking. The bed was turned down, my garment bag was hung in the little closet, and a fresh washcloth was hung over the sink. The nickel tour was over in about thirty seconds, and I moved over to the window to check out the activity on the platform. I think we were in Utica. That's how you tell time on the train, by stations, not hours. I asked her what she thought of my deluxe accommodations. "Very romantic," she said, as she slid in next to me at the window, close enough to set my heart to thumping. "It must have been very interesting in the days when everyone traveled like this. Two people, one room, miles from their destination with nothing to do..." I smiled at my good fortune. This beautiful woman was seducing me! She didn't have to try very hard, that's for sure.

Now many folks complain that Amtrak is never on time, but in my book, their timing is impeccable. Just as Carolyn touched my hand, the train lurched, starting it's trip out of Utica. She fell into me, and we both fell into the bed. We both laughed, and then... Well I won't bore you with the details, but the bumpy roadbed wasn't the only thing that made that sleeper rock that night.

I will tell you about her hair, though, because while you can probably imagine how our night of passion played out, even the most vivid of imaginations could not come up with the sight that literally tumbled down into my lap. I was laying on my back, in nothing but my boxers, she was straddling my knees, and took off her top, revealing a bra that if I had anything to do with it, was coming off almost immediately. I started to sit up to get to work, but then I saw her hands go to the back of her head. I froze, and I'm sure my eyes got huge as saucers.

"I know you've been waiting for this," she said. She was reading my mind, and for the first time, that didn't scare me. She teased me, pulling one pin out at a time, and slowly putting them on the table. Just as I was about to cry out "please!", she pulled a huge mass of hair over her shoulder. It seemed to fall in slow motion over her breasts, and finally into a heap on my swollen boxers. She gave me a look that asked me what I thought of her deluxe accommodations and giggled. I don't remember what I said, but "Oh my God" is close enough. Sweet Jesus it was fabulous! I've spent my fair share of time in the sack with the ladies, but that is probably the closest I've come to creaming inside my boxers. I felt like I was swimming in her hair while we did it. A little backstroke, a little breaststroke, and that hair seemed to be everywhere.

After we laid there for a while, recovering from what I at least considered a mind-bending experience, she got out of the bed and shook her hair out. Oh, man, a sight like that will get me up in nothing flat! She stood there, her back to me, running her fingers through her hair, and I watched it ripple, all the way to her knees. It fit her like a coat. She bent over to pick up the brush in her purse, and I watched that magnificent mane fall over her shoulder in waves to the floor, exposing her cute ass in the process. She knew I was watching, I'm sure, and took her time about it. She finally stood back up, handed me the brush, and backed up until I had a faceful of hair. I brushed and brushed, and savored every stroke. Then I helped her braid it, and it couldn't have looked more perfect. Then I pulled her back into bed to release some more sexual tension.

Next thing I know, it was light outside, and there was a banging on the window of my compartment. It was Cleveland, and Carolyn was on the platform, whacking at the window with a mailing tube. I lifted the shade and looked out in time to see her smile and run off towards the station, that knee length cascade bouncing and swaying. I watched her go into the station and sighed, sure I'd never see her again. Then I laid back down, and remembered the night, and could almost feel her hair in my hands.

I got up just in time to shave and hit the dining car for breakfast. I found a folded piece of paper in my shaving kit, and it had a phone number, area code 216.

Well, I can now say that there is more to the city of Cleveland than flaming rivers. In fact, it is one of my favorite places on earth. Another advantage of traveling by train is something called the free stopover. Cleveland has become a frequent stopover for me on my subsequent trips to Chicago. Carolyn has even made a few trips to New York with me- in the sleeper, of course. Yeah, we're doing great together. I still don't know how I was so lucky to run in to her. She's cute, intelligent, warm... and she is still growing that fabulous hair!

So, if you ask me, the train is definitely the best way to see America!