Beautiful married woman on the train

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

For most people, a train is a fairly ordinary mode of transportation. In my mind, it wasn't much different from cars, ships, or airplanes—just getting from one place to another, nothing more. Little did I expect the dramatic turn of events to unfold from here.

The train slowly pulled into the station and stopped. The conductor opened the doors, and I, carrying my bag, followed the flow of people to have my ticket checked and entered the carriage. I found my seat, facing the boarding direction by the aisle, and settled my luggage. Since I was alone, I simply greeted the person sitting next to me politely and sat quietly by myself. Because I was bored, I could only stare at the doors or look out the window to see if there was anything worth seeing.

Occasionally, passing passengers would bump into me, and I would mechanically respond with an indifferent smile. Completely bored, I took out my phone to check the time; it was almost time for departure, and the seat opposite me was still empty. I decided that if no one was sitting there by the window before departure, I would sit opposite them—a little breeze was better than carbon dioxide poisoning, right? Fewer

and fewer people boarded at the doors. Just as I was about to turn my gaze back to the window, a young couple boarded. Okay, maybe they were boyfriend and girlfriend. The girl was beautiful, with red lips and white teeth, big, bright eyes, and long, wavy hair that made you want to look at her more. The man walked ahead, holding her hand, slowly approaching me as they looked for seats.

My heart suddenly raced. Could these be the two seats opposite me? They drew closer, and the man seemed to be muttering something, probably scolding the girl. The girl frowned slightly but didn't say anything. When they reached the seats, the man pointed and said, "Here." He put his luggage down and sat down by the window.

The girl was right across from me, so quiet, her lips pursed—she looked so beautiful. Of course, at that moment, I was just admiring her; I had no ill intentions. I've never intended to become a promising scoundrel all these years, and I still haven't.

The train started moving, whistling as it began to move, as if it had resolved something very important. I took a deep breath and found a comfortable position to lean back in my seat. Then, I crossed my arms and watched the young couple across from me. The man kept ordering her around, saying things like, "Give me the food," "Give me a piece of paper," "Move over a bit, it's too crowded," and so on. The woman was very patient and attentive to her every need.

Occasionally, when she noticed me looking at her, she would smile and nod at me, and I would smile back. I wanted to say a few words to her, but the woman was too pretty, and the man didn't seem very open-minded, so there was no need to cause trouble for everyone. Keeping quiet wasn't a big deal. We're all past our student days; we can't just carry around a deck of cards and play with strangers to kill time. The man, bored, pulled out his phone and started playing games. He didn't pay any attention to me, the one staring at his woman.

Several hours passed quickly, and I started to get restless. My constantly pressured buttocks began to rebel. I kept fidgeting and scratching, and the pretty woman had long since lost interest in looking at me. At this point, I wanted to stretch my legs more than admire her. (I forgot to mention before, this train crosses the night line.) As time passed, many people got off at their stops, like the guy sitting next to me who got off at the previous platform. This made an indelible contribution to the development of my later story.

I thank you for that. I'll treat you to dinner sometime, but of course, I'll only say that knowing it's impossible. The man finally succumbed to the temptation of sleep and found a spacious spot at the table next to me to lie down and sleep. (As mentioned before, quite a few people had already gotten off.) The girl was very energetic; after getting on the train, she spent most of her time reading her book except for taking care of the man. I was exhausted, except for my eyes and mouth.

So, after a few minutes of hesitation, I spoke, "It's so late, aren't you tired?" She looked up, her mouth slightly open, seemingly surprised. So the guy opposite her wasn't a statue after all. "Aren't you tired yet? You're still awake too, aren't you?" She was truly a girl who was genuine inside and out; even her voice was so beautiful. I was almost mesmerized. After a few seconds of stunned silence, I quickly replied, "I am very tired, but I can't sleep well in a new environment."

"Me too, I really can't sleep well." I thought to myself, "She really has a beautiful voice." I stared into her eyes and, as if possessed, blurted out, "Your eyes are so beautiful." Damn it, I cursed inwardly. Wasn't this just asking for trouble? How could she say something like that? My eyes involuntarily glanced in her husband's direction. Seeing that he didn't react, I unconsciously touched my chest and let out a sigh of relief.

Then I looked at her shyly. Perhaps she saw all my awkwardness. She chuckled softly and said, "You're so funny." I scratched my head again, feeling embarrassed. Perhaps seeing that I didn't seem like a bad person, she gradually lowered her guard and started chatting with me without any particular purpose. Occasionally, when I mentioned her husband, a hint of disappointment would flicker in her beautiful eyes.

Later, I learned that her husband had been kicked in the groin during a fight and was on his way home from seeing a doctor. The treatment hadn't been effective, and he was angry, so he took it out on her the whole way home. When they were having a good time, they laughed together; when they talked about things that upset each other, they got angry for each other.

As they became more familiar, compliments they hadn't dared to say before became fluent. Perhaps every woman can't resist praise, at least she was. I checked my phone; it was almost 1 a.m. I asked to take a picture with her. Such a beautiful girl was a rare sight; it was just a photo to remember the occasion.

She agreed without hesitation. She sat down next to me, very close, and she exuded a fragrance that any lecherous man could smell. It was probably perfume, but it probably wasn't something she wore today, otherwise my sensitive nose would have detected it long ago. It could also be what people call natural body odor. Whatever it was, I was captivated.

She took a few deep breaths, looking at me with a slightly flushed face, but her eyes didn't look away, still smiling at me. I chuckled awkwardly to hide my embarrassment. She took my arm and leaned closer. Oh my god, this was so startling! I just asked for a photo, how did it turn into physical contact? My eyes kept drifting towards her sleeping husband. Suddenly, she whispered in my ear, "Don't look, he won't wake up."

My ear suddenly felt itchy and tingly, so comfortable. Not knowing what to say, I didn't bother to pull my hand away from hers, quickly adjusted my phone with one hand, and started taking selfies. Our heads were very close, and her chest seemed to be pressing against my arm. I didn't dare think too much, snapping away quickly, and as I prepared to put my phone away, I felt my face was almost frozen. Although I'm not exactly a gentleman, if I were in the era of Liu Xiahui, I probably wouldn't stand a chance, that's always been my self-assessment. I've always approached beautiful women with an appreciative attitude, never daring to overstep boundaries.

"You haven't shown me yet." A pleasant voice suddenly rang in my ear. I pulled my phone out of my pocket again, turned around, and handed it to her, my poor other hand still held by her arm. I don't know what went wrong with the handshake, but the phone suddenly fell. I regretted my overactive reflexes; my hand instinctively reached for the phone. I'm amazed at my own reflexes—I actually managed to grab it! But what I also grabbed was her breast.

"So soft," was my only reaction at that moment. Not wanting to let go was probably my second reaction. After a few seconds, she didn't scream or run away; she just looked at me with slightly dazed eyes. Looking closely at her smooth skin and rosy lips, I decided to abandon all thought and bring my lips to hers. It was a case of "the arrow is on the bowstring, and there's no going back," a moment of unbearable pressure. Reason is nothing but a paper tiger in front of a girl like this.

I kissed her red lips, feeling their softness and moisture with my tongue. I found her little tongue and sucked on it forcefully, causing her to involuntarily make a soft whimpering sound. My nimble hands couldn't stay idle either, slipping under her clothes to feel the exquisite texture. Her body was writhing, and to control her, I had to wrap my arms around her waist, pressing my body against hers. Her smooth back brushed against her bra, so I had to stroke downwards, across her waist, and into a crease—I suppose it was her buttocks.

She returned my kiss passionately, and I swallowed her saliva. Although saliva has little taste, it tasted sweet at this moment. My hand continued downwards, and she seemed to notice my intention, grabbing my hand to express her reluctance. Unfortunately, I had no time to care about that. I sucked on her earlobe, licking it, my tongue occasionally brushing against her ear canal.

Perhaps I accidentally touched her sensitive spot, for she suddenly blushed, her grip on my hand weakening. I took the signal and pressed on. My hand continued downwards, her labia tightly clenched, gliding over her anus, reaching my destination. My hand touched some pubic hair, then some slightly damp, tender flesh. Just before a finger was about to enter, she bit my shoulder hard. I quickly pulled it out of her pants. There seemed to be tears in her eyes, a hint of shyness, and a stirring of desire. Her body certainly told me she was aroused.

I rubbed my finger; it was slippery, with some glistening liquid on it. She saw my action, her face turning even redder, and she said shyly, "No." I waved my finger in front of her face, then quickly wiped it on her lips while she was shy, before pressing my finger down to kiss her. I sucked hard on the saliva, finally bringing it to her mouth and swallowing it.

After the kiss, I whispered in her ear, "You're so horny." She shook her little arms, giving me a masculine massage. Although it all happened very quickly, I felt a sweetness in it. Maybe it was because the object of my affection was her, such a beautiful woman. Everyone was silent, the awkward and ambiguous atmosphere growing heavier. She stood up and said, "I'm going to the restroom." Since no one had made a sound after all this time, it meant that everyone else on the train was already fast asleep.

I don't know where I got the courage, but I got up and followed her. I thought that if things didn't go this far, it would be a disservice to myself and the readers of the novel. She didn't say anything when she saw me follow, and since she didn't refuse, I couldn't just back down. I glanced at the next carriage; it was also empty. I followed her into the restroom in one go.

"What are you doing following me in?" she glared at me.

"Don't you know what I'm doing?" I'd lost all sense of shame.

We were in this small, enclosed space, and I looked at her flawless face. The blush on her face had faded somewhat, but it hadn't completely disappeared. The fire in her eyes not only burned within her but also seduced me. I took a step forward and slowly pulled open her clothes, revealing her snow-white skin bit by bit, dazzlingly white. I kissed her again, kissing her collarbone, then unhooked her bra. One hand cupped one breast, and I bent down to bite her nipple. Though not bright red, it was still dazzling against the backdrop of her snow-white breasts.

Her areolas weren't large, her nipples tiny; slowly sucking, they smelled slightly milky, and the nipples slowly hardened under the teasing of my tongue. I groped for my outer pants and slipped my hand inside her panties; her clitoris slowly hardened as well. She occasionally let out soft moans, "Ah...mmm..." I looked up at the saliva on her chest; I could see faint teeth marks on her areolas, and her originally snow-white body was now tinged with red.

She punched my chest hard and said, "You really bit me hard. Haven't you ever had your mother's milk before? How can you treat someone like this?" "Let me rub it for you." Then I started rubbing her breasts lewdly. She started moaning again, "Mmm...mmm...uh..." I licked her nipples alternately. She closed her eyes and said softly, panting, "Faster...faster..."

"Faster what?" I teased deliberately.

"Give it to me." Her tone was urgent and intense.

I stopped rubbing and licking, and wrapped my arms around her slender waist. She wrapped her arms around my neck. She was almost unable to stand. On the train, we were always afraid someone would go into the restroom, so we needed to finish quickly. I held her with one arm and leaned against the door. With the other hand, I unzipped my pants and took out my penis. I said in a commanding tone, "Grab it." Her soft, boneless hand grabbed my weapon. How much strength could a girl have? My penis was already ready to spring into action. She gripped it tightly and began to pump it in and out with her hand. I really wanted to ejaculate in her hand, so I quickly made her let go, turning the tables.

The beautiful woman's moans, her warm breath, her sweet face, and her devilish figure all teased me. I tightened my grip with my left hand, using my right hand to rub my penis against her slightly damp vulva through her panties. The heat emanating from her panties was scorching my glans. She seemed unable to bear it any longer. Her hands, which had been hanging limply, gripped my waist tightly, her lower body pressed against mine, her buttocks swaying, and she was softly and unconsciously calling out, "Give it to me...give it to me..."

My right hand, which had been rubbing her buttocks, was already at its hardest point due to her initiative. Hearing her lewd words, I almost couldn't hold back my ejaculation. I immediately spun her around in my arms, preparing to fuck her from behind, then had her grab the window frame. At that moment, she was like a puppet, completely at my mercy. She was truly a gem, a gem capable of complete immersion in the pleasure of sex. I grabbed her panties and pulled them down, not even having time to look at the color of her genitals, and eagerly tried to insert my penis. "Ah!" We both involuntarily let out a scream. I was suppressing it, of course, while she was just letting it out of habit.

And so, we perfectly coordinated, pleasing each other in the erotic, enclosed, quiet environment. Her genitals were already wet. I gently thrust in and out, my hands around her waist and abdomen, stimulating her uterus and vagina with the heat of my palms. My fingers occasionally kneaded her clitoris and breasts. She wasn't a girl who was good at expressing herself, so she only used "Ah...ah...ah..." or "Ah...ah...ah..." or "Ah, ah! ah!" to express her emotions. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes withdrawing, sometimes thrusting in, I was having a great time.

The only sounds in the space were the slamming of flesh against flesh and her low moans. For some reason, after penetration, the urge to ejaculate didn't come as quickly. Suddenly, I felt the vaginal pressure increase, as if trying to squeeze my penis out; beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. The moans seemed to grow louder, so I quickly covered her mouth with my hand. Her tongue, as if out of control, licked wildly in my palm. "What a fucking stunner," I cursed inwardly. Such a nimble tongue was wasted if it wasn't used for oral sex.

Her genitals pressed against me relentlessly, and suddenly a gush of vaginal fluid soaked my glans. I shuddered; I was about to ejaculate too. I immediately grabbed her body; it was completely limp, and I didn't bother to help her up, letting her kneel on the ground. Grabbing her hair, I shoved my wet penis into her mouth. A few seconds later, I ejaculated, then grabbed her hair and made her tilt her head back and swallow it all. The space fell completely silent, filled with the lewd smell and heavy breathing.

She licked her lips, whether from thirst or savoring the memory, I couldn't tell. I asked her, "Was it comfortable?" She smiled slightly and replied, "Mmm." Then she added, "It's been a long time since I've done this." I replied, "Let me help you up first." Saying that, I pulled her up and kissed the back of her hand. We tidied ourselves up slowly and left the restroom one after the other.

After such a passionate encounter, we were both exhausted, so we went back to our seats to rest. The next day, when we arrived at our destination, we discovered we were from the same city, so we exchanged phone numbers for future contact. Her husband, on the other hand, was still being overly protective of her, treating me like a thief, though he didn't realize that his wife no longer belonged entirely to him.

For most people, a car is a fairly ordinary mode of transportation. For me, in my mind, it wasn't much different from cars, ships, or airplanes—just getting from one place to another, nothing more. Little did I expect that the dramatic plot would unfold from here.

The train slowly pulled into the station and stopped. The conductor opened the train door, and I followed the flow of people through the ticket gate to enter the carriage, carrying my bag. I found my seat, facing the direction I was boarding, and sat down after putting my luggage away. Since I was alone, I simply greeted the person sitting next to me politely and then sat quietly by myself. Because I was bored, I could only stare at the train door or look out the window to see if there was any scenery worth seeing.

Occasionally, passing passengers would bump into me, and I'd mechanically respond with an indifferent smile. Completely bored, I checked the time on my phone; the train was about to depart, and the seat opposite me was still empty. I decided that if it left before anyone took it, I'd sit in the window seat opposite—a little breeze was better than carbon dioxide poisoning, right?

Fewer and fewer people boarded at the doors. Just as I was about to turn my gaze back to the window, a young couple boarded. Okay, or maybe they were a couple. The woman was beautiful, with red lips, white teeth, and large, bright eyes. Her hair had long, wavy curls at the ends, making you want to look at her more. The man walked ahead, holding her hand, slowly approaching me as they searched for seats.

My heart suddenly raced. Could these be the two seats opposite me? They drew closer, and the man seemed to be muttering something, probably scolding the woman. The woman frowned slightly but didn't speak. When they reached the seats, the man pointed and said, "This is it." I put my luggage down and sat down in the window seat.

The girl was facing me, so quiet, her lips pursed, so beautiful. Of course, at that moment I was simply admiring her, with no ill intentions. For all these years, I've never intended to become a promising scoundrel, and that remains true even now.

The train started moving, its whistle sounding as if some important matter had been resolved. I took a deep breath and found a comfortable position to lean back in my seat. I crossed my arms and watched the young couple opposite me. The man kept ordering her around, things like, "Give me the food," "Give me a piece of paper," "Move over a bit, it's too crowded," basically random things. The girl was very patient, serving her attentively.

Occasionally, when she noticed I seemed to be looking at her, she would smile and nod at me, and I would smile back. I wanted to say a few words to her, but the girl was too beautiful, and the man didn't seem particularly open-minded, so there was no need to cause trouble. Keeping quiet wasn't a big deal. We're all past our student days; we can't just casually pull out a deck of cards and play with strangers to kill time anymore. The man, bored, pulled out his phone and started playing games. He had no time to pay attention to me, the one who kept staring at his woman.

Several hours passed quickly, and I started to feel restless. My constantly pressured buttocks began to rebel. I kept fidgeting and scratching, and the pretty girls had long lost interest in watching. At this point, I'd rather stretch my legs than admire them. (I forgot to mention before, this train was a night train.) As time went on, many people got off at their stops, like the guy sitting next to me who got off at the previous platform. This made an indelible contribution to the development of my later story.

I thank you for that. I'll treat you to dinner sometime, of course, knowing it's impossible. The man finally succumbed to the temptation of sleep and found a spacious spot at the table next to me to lie down and sleep. (As mentioned before, quite a few people had already gotten off.) The girl was very energetic; after getting on the train, she spent most of her time reading, except when taking care of the man. I was exhausted, except for my eyes and mouth.

So after a few minutes of hesitation, I finally spoke, "It's so late, aren't you tired?" She looked up, her mouth slightly open, seemingly surprised. Turns out, this guy wasn't a statue after all. "Not tired? You're still awake too, aren't you?" She was truly a girl who was genuine inside and out; even her voice was so beautiful. I was almost mesmerized . After a few seconds of stunned silence, I quickly replied, "I am very tired, but I can't sleep well in a new environment."

"Me too, I really can't sleep well." I thought to myself, "She's so beautiful." I stared into her eyes and, almost without thinking, blurted out, "Your eyes are so beautiful." Damn it, I cursed inwardly. Wasn't this just asking for trouble? How could I say something like that? My eyes involuntarily glanced in her husband's direction. Seeing that he didn't react, I unconsciously patted my chest and let out a sigh of relief.

Then, I looked at her sheepishly. Perhaps she saw all my awkwardness; she chuckled softly and said, "You're so funny." I scratched my head sheepishly again. Perhaps sensing I didn't seem like a bad person, she gradually lowered her guard and started chatting with me freely. Only occasionally, when I mentioned her husband, a hint of disappointment would flicker in her beautiful eyes.

Later, I learned that her husband had been kicked in the groin during a fight and was on his way home from seeing a doctor. The treatment hadn't been effective, and he was angry, so he took it out on her the whole way. When they were having a good time, they laughed together; when they talked about things that upset each other, they got angry for each other.

As we became more familiar, compliments that she hadn't dared to say before became fluent. Perhaps every woman can't resist praise, at least she was. I checked my phone; it was almost 1 a.m. I asked to take a picture with her. Such a beautiful girl was rare; it was just a photo to remember the occasion.

She agreed without hesitation. She sat down next to me, very close, and she exuded a fragrance that any lecherous man could smell. It was probably perfume, but I doubt I'd worn it today, otherwise my sensitive nose would have detected it long ago. It could also be what people call body odor. Whatever it was, I was captivated. I

took a few deep breaths. She looked at me, her face slightly flushed, but her eyes didn't look away; she still smiled at me. I chuckled awkwardly to hide my embarrassment. She took my arm and leaned closer. Oh my god, this was so startling! I just asked for a photo; how did it turn into physical contact? My eyes kept drifting towards her sleeping husband. Suddenly, she whispered in my ear, "Don't look, he won't wake up."

My ear suddenly felt itchy and tingly, so comfortable. Not knowing what to say, I didn't bother to pull my hand away from her grasp, quickly adjusted my phone with one hand, and started taking selfies. Our heads were very close, and her chest seemed to be pressing against my arm. I didn't dare think too much. Snap! Snap! Snap! I snapped a few photos, then prepared to put my phone away. At that moment, I felt my face was almost frozen. Although I'm not exactly a saint, if I were placed in the era of Liu Xiahui (a legendary figure known for his virtue and integrity), I'd probably be out of the running. That's always been my self-assessment. I've always approached beautiful women with an appreciative attitude, never daring to overstep boundaries.

"You haven't shown me yet," a pleasant voice suddenly rang in my ear. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, turned around, and handed it to her, my poor other hand still held by her arm. Somehow, the phone slipped from my grasp. I regretted my overactive reflexes; my hand instinctively reached for the phone. I'm amazed at my own reflexes—I actually managed to grab it! But what I also grabbed was her breast.

"So soft," was my only thought. Not wanting to let go was probably my second reaction. After a few seconds, she didn't scream or run away; she just looked at me with slightly dazed eyes. Looking closely at her smooth skin and rosy lips, I decided to abandon all thought and brought my lips closer. It was a case of "the arrow is on the bowstring, and there's no going back," a classic case of "when all else fails, all else fails." Reason is nothing but a paper tiger in front of a girl like this.

I kissed her red lips, feeling their softness and moisture with my tongue. I found her little tongue and sucked on it forcefully, causing her to involuntarily make a whimpering sound. My nimble hands couldn't be idle either, slipping under her clothes; the touch was so delicate. Her body was writhing, so to control her, I had to wrap my arms around her waist, pressing my body against hers. Her smooth back touched her bra, so I had to stroke downwards, across her waist, and into a valley—I guess it was her buttocks.

She kissed me passionately, and I swallowed her saliva. Although saliva doesn't have much taste, it was sweet at this moment. My hand continued downwards, and she seemed to notice my intention, grabbing my hand to express her unwillingness. But at this moment, I had no time to care about that. I sucked on her earlobe, then licked it, my tongue occasionally brushing against the ear canal.

Perhaps I'd accidentally touched her sensitive spot, for her face suddenly flushed, and her grip on my hand weakened. I got the signal and pressed on. My hand continued downwards, the labia tightly clenched, gliding past her anus, reaching my destination. My hand touched some pubic hair, then some damp, tender flesh. Just before a finger was about to enter, she bit my shoulder hard. I quickly pulled it out of her pants. Her eyes seemed to hold tears, she seemed shy, and she seemed aroused. Of course, her body told me she was aroused.

I rubbed my finger; it was slippery, with some glistening liquid on it. She saw my action, her face turning even redder, and she said shyly, "No." I waved my finger in front of her, then quickly wiped it on her lips while she was shy, then pressed my hand against hers and kissed her lips. I sucked hard on the fluid, finally bringing my saliva into her mouth and swallowing it together.

After the kiss, I whispered in her ear, "You're so horny." She shook her little arm, giving me a masculine massage. Although it all happened very quickly, I felt a sweetness in it. Maybe it was because the object of my affection was her, such a beautiful woman. Everyone was silent, and the awkward, ambiguous atmosphere grew heavier. She stood up and said, "I'm going to the restroom." Since no one had made a sound after all this time, it meant that everyone else on the train was already fast asleep.

I don't know where I got the courage, but I got up and followed her. I thought that if things didn't go this far, it would be a disservice to myself and the readers of the novel. She didn't say anything when she saw me follow, and since she didn't refuse, I couldn't back down. I glanced at the next carriage; it was also empty. I followed her into the restroom in

one go. "What are you doing following me in?" she glared at me.

"Don't you know what I'm doing?" I had lost all sense of shame.

In this small, enclosed space, I looked at her flawless face. The blush on her face had faded a bit, but it hadn't completely disappeared. The fire in her eyes not only burned within her but also seduced me. I stepped forward and slowly pulled open her clothes, revealing her snow-white skin bit by bit, dazzlingly white. I kissed her again, capturing her collarbone, then unhooked her bra. One hand cupped one breast, and I bent down to bite her nipple. Though not bright red, it was still dazzling against the backdrop of her snow-white breasts. Her

areolas were small, her nipples tiny, and as I slowly sucked, I detected a hint of milky scent. The nipple slowly hardened under the teasing of my tongue. I groped for my outer pants and slipped my hand inside her panties, and her clitoris slowly hardened as well. She occasionally let out soft moans, "Ah...mmm..." I looked up at the saliva on her chest; I could see faint teeth marks on her areolas, and her once snow-white body was now tinged with red.

She punched my chest hard and said, "You really bit me hard. Haven't you ever had your mother's milk before? How can you treat someone like this?" "Let me rub it for you." Then I started rubbing her breasts lewdly. She started moaning again, "Mmm...mmm...uh..." I licked her nipples alternately. She closed her eyes and said softly, panting, "Faster...faster..."

"Faster what?" I teased deliberately.

"Give it to me." Her tone was urgent and intense.

I stopped rubbing and licking, and wrapped my arms around her slender waist. She wrapped her arms around my neck. She was almost unable to stand. On the train, we were always afraid someone would go into the restroom, so we needed to finish quickly. I held her with one arm and leaned against the door. With the other hand, I unzipped my pants and took out my penis. I said in a commanding tone, "Grab it." Her soft, boneless hand grabbed my weapon. How much strength could a girl have? My penis was already ready to spring into action. She gripped it tightly and began to pump it in and out with her hand. I really wanted to ejaculate in her hand, so I quickly made her let go, turning the tables.

The beautiful woman's moans, her warm breath, her sweet face, and her devilish figure all teased me. I tightened my grip with my left hand, using my right hand to rub my penis against her slightly damp vulva through her panties. The heat emanating from her panties was scorching my glans. She seemed unable to bear it any longer. Her hands, which had been hanging limply, gripped my waist tightly, her lower body pressed against mine, her buttocks swaying, and she was softly and unconsciously calling out, "Give it to me...give it to me..."

My right hand, which had been rubbing her buttocks, was already at its hardest point due to her initiative. Hearing her lewd words, I almost couldn't hold back my ejaculation. I immediately spun her around in my arms, preparing to fuck her from behind, then had her grab the window frame. At that moment, she was like a puppet, completely at my mercy. She was truly a gem, a gem capable of complete immersion in the pleasure of sex. I grabbed her panties and pulled them down, not even having time to look at the color of her genitals, and eagerly tried to insert my penis. "Ah!" We both involuntarily let out a scream. I was suppressing it, of course, while she was just letting it out of habit.

And so, we perfectly coordinated, pleasing each other in the erotic, enclosed, quiet environment. Her genitals were already wet. I gently thrust in and out, my hands around her waist and abdomen, stimulating her uterus and vagina with the heat of my palms. My fingers occasionally kneaded her clitoris and breasts. She wasn't a girl who was good at expressing herself, so she only used "Ah...ah...ah..." or "Ah...ah...ah..." or "Ah, ah! ah!" to express her emotions. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes withdrawing, sometimes thrusting in, I was having a great time.

The only sounds in the space were the slamming of flesh against flesh and her low moans. For some reason, after penetration, the urge to ejaculate didn't come as quickly. Suddenly, I felt the vaginal pressure increase, as if trying to squeeze my penis out; beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. The moans seemed to grow louder, so I quickly covered her mouth with my hand. Her tongue, as if out of control, licked wildly in my palm. "What a fucking stunner," I cursed inwardly. Such a nimble tongue was wasted if it wasn't used for oral sex.

Her genitals pressed against me relentlessly, and suddenly a gush of vaginal fluid soaked my glans. I shuddered; I was about to ejaculate too. I immediately grabbed her body; it was completely limp, and I didn't bother to help her up, letting her kneel on the ground. Grabbing her hair, I shoved my wet penis into her mouth. A few seconds later, I ejaculated, then grabbed her hair and made her tilt her head back and swallow it all. The space fell completely silent, filled with the lewd smell and heavy breathing.

She licked her lips, whether from thirst or savoring the memory, I couldn't tell. I asked her, "Was that good?" She smiled slightly and replied, "Mmm." Then she added, "It's been so long since we've done this." I replied, "Let me help you up." I pulled her to her feet and kissed the back of her hand. We tidied ourselves up slowly and left the restroom one after the other.

After such a passionate encounter, we were both exhausted and went back to our seats to rest. The next day, upon arriving at our destination, we discovered we were from the same city and exchanged phone numbers for future contact. Her husband, however, was still treating her with disdain, guarding me like a thief, unaware that his wife no longer belonged entirely to him.

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Beautiful married woman on the train

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