Passion on the train with a university professor's wife

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 17:27:16

I've read many stories about train journeys online, and I've always been itching to experience something like that myself. This is a true story that happened to me last year when I went home, and I'm sharing it with you all.

My home is far from school, a 20-hour train ride, so I always buy a sleeper berth when I go home.

This time, like before, I boarded the sleeper carriage with my bag, found my berth, and unpacked my luggage. Seeing that the other berths hadn't arrived yet, I sat by the window, drinking water and resting, wondering what kind of companions I'd meet this time to get through this boring journey. After a while,

the others started boarding one after another. I had a lower berth. The middle berth above me and the lower berth opposite me belonged to a family—a couple and their 7-year-old daughter. The upper berth above me belonged to the husband's younger brother. The middle and upper berths opposite me were occupied by two migrant workers. They didn't say a word or eat anything the whole way; they just slept until we got off the train. I don't know if they were really asleep.

During my travels, I enjoy chatting with like-minded friends to pass the time, so I usually take the initiative to strike up conversations with others on the train. After everyone had put their luggage away, we exchanged brief greetings and got to know each other.

This family was visiting relatives in their hometown. When they learned that I was also going home, we smiled at each other: "Oh, we're from the same hometown!" The husband was a university teacher, the kind of honest and kind person who was very enthusiastic. The wife was a woman in her early thirties with delicate features, but not particularly beautiful. Although she had given birth, she still had a great figure, without an ounce of excess fat. Her curves were perfectly proportioned, and she wore a denim miniskirt, revealing her fair and smooth legs that made one want to reach out and touch them.

The husband's younger brother was a complete poor scholar, arrogant and unruly. He didn't talk much, and when he wasn't sleeping, he would stare out the window. I guessed he looked down on ordinary people, and I later learned that he truly didn't understand the ways of the world.

Although this woman was in her early thirties, she dressed very young, wearing a sun hat and two small braids. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, her inner yearning for life's passion undisguised. As soon

as she boarded the train, she complained of the heat, fanning herself with her hat. The sleeper compartment was small, and she sat opposite me, very close; her breath gently brushed against my face.

It was hot, and we chatted casually. I occasionally stole glances at her alluring breasts. She seemed to notice and pulled her collar up slightly. Embarrassed, I looked out the window. A while later, I peeked again, this time moving the camera down to show her vulva. Through her lace panties, I could clearly see the shape of her genitals—small, like a bun, with thick labia. I typed to her, "Your labia are so plump." She replied with a tongue-out emoji. That's how we met. From then on, I went to her chat room every day just to see her. When I got home at night, I would copy and paste from the local escort website she159.com, which offers private chat and in-home services. I watched his performance, and gradually we started talking more and more. Sometimes we'd chat on QQ while at work; at home, we'd experience alternative sex—it was all about the feeling, I loved the atmosphere! She glanced at me, surprised to find that the neckline she'd pulled up earlier wasn't pulled up, but rather lowered even further, revealing a pair of full breasts barely concealed by a black bra, swaying slightly with the train's movement. I looked at this alluring beauty with a puzzled expression, and inadvertently looked up, meeting her gaze. She smiled slightly at me, leaning forward, making her white breasts even clearer. Her breasts weren't large, but they were full and perky; the black bra only covered half, leaving the other half completely exposed before my eyes.

At that moment, I felt a rush of blood to my head, and I froze completely. Then she gently touched my ankle with her calf, snapping me out of my reverie of her beautiful breasts. I looked at her with a mixture of confusion and bliss, saying, "It's so hot!" She smiled slightly, "Yeah, it's unbearably hot. Are you traveling alone?" "Yes, I like being with strangers. I always learn things I've never heard of before, and sometimes I even encounter unexpected good things!" I said, squeezing her calf, which was still rubbing against my ankle, between my own legs, feeling its smooth, tingling texture. She didn't move her calf away, but instead placed her other calf between my feet, swaying it from side to side and rubbing it against mine.

I felt a surge of secret joy: "It seems the story I've been longing for is finally happening to me!" I adjusted my posture, stretching my legs forward a bit, and while saying I was hot, I pulled up my trouser legs, so my calves were completely pressed against hers.

She cooperated by stretching her legs forward slightly and gently spreading them apart, pressing her four legs even closer together!

The train continued its tireless journey, swaying its long body incessantly. Our legs rubbed against each other, grinding and pressing against each other in rhythm with the train's swaying, occasionally squeezing together to enjoy the pleasure of our skin touching.

It was very hot, and everyone kept drinking water along the way, with someone going to the toilet every now and then. Her bottle of queulio was quickly empty.

"This damn hot weather! I have to keep drinking water and keep going to the toilet. Ugh, it's so annoying!" she complained as she stood up to go to the toilet.

I stood up to let her pass, and as she turned, her soft, elastic buttocks pressed against my penis.

The rubbing of their legs had already aroused me to the point of madness, my crotch was bulging, and her buttocks pushing against me only fueled the fire. My penis instantly hardened again, pressing stiffly against her buttocks. She felt the impact of my hard penis against her, but instead of immediately heading to the toilet, she deliberately stopped and wiggled her buttocks a few times, complaining that her husband wouldn't move aside. My

penis, already throbbing with desire, was instantly tingled by her wiggling, and the tingling sensation spread from my glans throughout my body. I couldn't help but let out a soft "humph," and unconsciously thrust forward, my penis slamming into her buttocks. My desire was so intense that I forgot about my surroundings and the other people around me. The thrust was so forceful that it knocked her forward. Luckily, her husband was sitting in front of her and caught her in time, preventing her from hitting anything.

Her husband, supporting her, said, "Be careful, what's the rush?" "Oh dear, the train is shaking so much," she replied, walking towards the restroom. At the corner of the carriage, she turned back and smiled at me before entering.

Only then did I notice her husband. I'd been so focused on my interaction with his wife that I'd forgotten everyone around me. Remembering what had just happened, I couldn't help but laugh. Her husband, thinking I was greeting him, smiled back. He was a typical scholar, a university graduate who stayed on to work at the university. His wife was his student, and out of "academic admiration," she developed feelings for him. They fell in love, got married, and had a child.

"Your life is perfect! A great job, such a wonderful wife (I didn't say she was beautiful, probably because I was hiding something and didn't want to give myself away, hehe), and a lovely daughter. Little sister, how old are you?" I chatted casually with him, constantly glancing down the corridor near the restroom, wondering why she hadn't returned yet.

He smiled and said, "I'm quite satisfied with my life, but I wouldn't say my job is satisfactory." "Oh? Your job is pretty good, a university teacher, high income, stable. With such fierce competition these days, your job is practically a dream. Aren't you satisfied?" "I'm satisfied with everything you've said, but the students these days, sigh..." "Do they dissatisfy you?" "The students these days are terrible. They don't study at all. I don't know what they're doing all day. They only get busy when exams come around. Some students even come to me begging for a passing grade. When I encounter such students, I outwardly agree, but in reality, I will never let them pass!" "Actually, everyone has their difficulties. They may have their reasons for not studying. Universities these days are basically profit-making institutions, not places for teaching and nurturing. Everyone just comes to pay money for a diploma. Even if they study hard, what can they learn? The textbooks are all outdated stuff." "What's the use of learning these things? Why make things difficult for them?" "Make things difficult for them? Why should I?" I saw her move the camera down, pointing her vulva at the camera, and through her see-through panties, I could clearly see the shape of her vulva, like a small steamed bun, with thick labia. I typed to her: "Your labia are so fat." She replied with a tongue-out emoji. That's how we met. From then on, I went to her chat room every day just to see her. At night, I would go to the local escort website she159.com to watch her performance. Gradually, we talked more and more. Sometimes we would chat on QQ at work; at home, we would experience alternative sex, just for that feeling, I liked the atmosphere there! "The diplomas we worked so hard to get, are they just going to get them so easily now?" Looking at the strange expression on his face, I suddenly realized that it was impossible to communicate with him. He didn't let his students pass just to satisfy his own psychological balance; he was a psychopath! His words reminded me of my disastrous academic performance, and I felt a pang of sadness. I stared blankly out the window

for a while before she returned, sitting opposite me again. Her husband asked, "Why did you take so long?" "The restroom was crowded, so I waited a bit." Seeing my sullen expression, she smiled and asked, "What's wrong? Something on your mind?" I smiled back and said, "Nothing. I thought you'd been tricked and run away since you hadn't come back for so long. I was thinking about how to rescue you, otherwise how would I get by?" "You…" She glanced at her husband, saw him playing with their daughter, breathed a sigh of relief, kicked me lightly, and whispered, "Watch your mouth." Then she raised her leg higher, and I followed the push to look inside her skirt. The sight before me almost made my nose bleed. She wasn't wearing underwear!

With an expression of utter disbelief, I quietly asked her, "Did you take your clothes off in the bathroom?" She gave a shy, soft moan, raising her legs higher and spreading them apart as she lay back against the wall, her eyes glazed over as she looked at me.

The view from under her skirt was simply breathtaking! Following her rounded calves upwards, the beautiful, soft curves outlined a pair of alluring thighs, full yet without an ounce of excess fat, the skin smooth and delicate. The curves led to a captivating cleavage at the base of her thighs. A pink slit nestled between her beautiful legs, with a small, prominent protrusion at the top, surrounded by a few sparse hairs and glistening drops of fluid. Such a beautiful vulva was displayed before my eyes, and my penis was already hard to resist, my tent pitched high again. But this beautiful vulva, though beautiful, was like the moon in the sky—visible but untouchable, leaving me frantic and helpless. She giggled at my impatient expression.

"Haste makes waste!" she said mischievously with a smile.

"I'll find a way to get it!" I glanced back at her husband, who was holding our sleeping child and looking out the window. I picked up a rather thick pen from the table, squatted down, and thrust it into her vulva. Her vagina was slippery, and the pen was easily swallowed. She didn't realize what I was doing until she felt a sharp thrust inside her and gasped. I quickly pulled my hand out from under her skirt, pretending to look for something on the floor.

Her husband turned around at the sound and asked, "What's wrong?" "I was looking for my pen; I don't know where it fell. A cockroach just crawled out from under the bed, and she got scared," I replied, forcing a response.

She hadn't recovered from the shock, only nodding and mumbling, "Um, um, um..." Her husband, carrying the child, came over and sat down next to me, saying, "I saw a black pen on the table earlier, wasn't it a rather thick ballpoint pen?" I said, "That's it, probably fell under the bed. It's a pretty thick pen for signing, but if you use it for anything else, some people might even think it's too thin!" Her husband put the child on the bed and bent down to look for the pen.

"What else is a pen good for besides writing?" he asked.

I smiled at her and asked, "Do you know what else a pen can be used for?" She was both ashamed and annoyed; the pen still inside her made her legs fidget, her hands flailing wildly in the air, unsure of where to put it. Seeing her flustered state, I whispered, "Did I get it?" "You're so naughty." While her husband was looking down to find a pen, she kicked at my penis. I grabbed her foot and whispered,

"Don't kick it, what will I feed you tonight if you break it?" I then pinched her plump little foot.

"What should I do?" she asked, blushing, pointing down below.

"Just leave it there, I don't need it now." She reached out to pinch me, but I smiled and dodged. At that moment, her husband straightened up. "I can't find it." "Don't look for it, we're not in a hurry." We looked at each other, understanding each other perfectly, and continued talking about the pen.

With her husband sitting next to me, she dared not show me her private parts anymore. She lowered her legs, placing her hands on them, afraid that if her skirt were lifted, her husband would discover her secret. The pen still inside her vagina caused her body to writhe incessantly with the rhythm of the train. She felt waves of numbness and itching inside, her legs involuntarily twisting, her hands rubbing back and forth, her face flushing.

Her husband, thinking she was sick, asked with concern, "What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" "Nothing, just a little itchy." "I read online, it's a kind of train allergy, it only flares up on trains, it'll be fine in a while," I said with a mischievous grin.

"These days, illnesses are really strange, even train allergies," her husband muttered, puzzled.

Just then, the child woke up, and her husband turned to take care of the child.

"Take it out quickly, I'm itching to death!" "How can I take it out now? How can I tell your husband where I found it? Besides, the pen must be wet now, how can you take it out and show it to people?" We spoke softly, and her husband didn't notice anything.

The child needed to use the toilet, and her husband took her there. As soon as her husband and child left, she eagerly grabbed my hand and shoved it inside her skirt.

"Feel it," she pleaded.

I reached inside and touched it; it was slippery and overflowing. I found the pen, now so smooth it was hard to grip, and used my fingers to twist and thrust it in and out, while using one finger to tease her already hard clitoris. Her body convulsed, her buttocks arching upwards, chasing after my hand and the pen.

Suddenly, her vaginal muscles tightened, as if something was pulling the pen inside. I knew she was about to climax, so I increased the force and speed of my thrusts. More fluid came in, and my fingers made a squelching sound with her juices. She jerked her body upwards, moving the camera down to face her vulva. Through her see-through panties, I could clearly see the shape of her vulva—a small, round bun with thick labia. I typed to her, "Your labia are so plump." She replied with a tongue-out emoji. That's how we met. From then on, I went to her chat room every day just to see her. At night, I'd go to the local escort website she159.com to watch her performance. Gradually, we started talking more and more. Sometimes we'd chat on QQ at work; at home, we'd experience alternative sex—it was all about the feeling, I loved the atmosphere! Nu, gripping the sheets tightly with both hands, tilted her head back, moaning "Aww, aww..." as a gush of warm, lustful fluid spurted out, covering my hands. She slowly relaxed, slumping onto the bed, still panting, her eyes slightly open, looking at me with a hazy gaze, gradually revealing a blissful smile.

"Help me up," she said softly, reaching out her hand to me.

I pulled her up, helping her sit up, tidying her disheveled hair, and touching her warm face: "How does it feel? Comfortable?" "You're so bad!" she punched me with her small, delicate fists, but I grabbed her hands and pulled her into my arms.

"You're so good at this! You've been with a lot of women, haven't you?" "You're my first woman, believe it or not?" "You little liar, you're absolutely wicked!" She reached out to pinch me, but I held her down, rubbing my lips against her face, searching for her lips.

"Oh no, get up now!" she shoved me away and jumped up.

"What's wrong?" "Oh...look where I was sitting just now..." she said, taking out a few tissues from her bag.

I looked at where she had just sat and immediately laughed. A pool of glistening vaginal fluid was stuck there, with a curly hair on it. She frantically wiped it with the tissues, her plump buttocks swaying in front of me. I stood up, pressed my penis against her buttocks, and reached behind to hug her breasts, rubbing them as I thrust.

"Don't rush to wipe, let your husband see our spoils." "Go to hell." She pushed me away, stood up, and straightened her clothes. "Does my hair look messy?" "No, not at all, a lady's hair!" My hand was still on her breasts. "Stop it

, they'll be back soon, it'll be dark soon, you can do whatever you want tonight, can't you wait a few hours?" She gently took my hand away.

"I need to go to the bathroom." She tidied her hair and turned to leave.

I gave her a hard slap on the butt: "Come back here right now!" Only then did I realize I was exhausted. I lay on the bed, reflecting on what had just happened…

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