A passionate journey on the train

As I stepped onto the door of the sleeper bus, a gentle female voice came from behind me. "Sir, could you help me?" I slowly turned around.

Standing at the door was a very pretty woman. What struck me most about her oval face was her well-defined mouth, which appeared rather wide with slightly

upturned . Her rosy lips looked quite full. My first thought was, what would it feel like to insert my thing into her? A well-tailored white

dress hugged her curvaceous figure, radiating sunshine and vitality. She carried two large bags, and her bright, clear eyes looked at

me with a questioning gaze. What was most alarming was the cane tucked under her arm—she was disabled! "Beauty is often envied by heaven," was the phrase that came to mind at that moment.

I agreed and turned back to take her two bags, helping her onto the train. Her skin was fair and delicate, smooth to the touch, like silk.

I helped her put her luggage away and then helped her find a berth. By sheer coincidence, we were both on the communal berths at the very back of the carriage, and hers was right next to mine.

"We're really destined to meet!" I said with a smile as I leaned down.

"Destined to meet doesn't necessarily mean destined to be together!" she replied with a sly smile.

"Oh? Can destiny be understood in parts?" "Isn't it?" She tilted her head, her big eyes fixed on mine.

"Those destined to meet may not be destined to be together, and those destined to be together may not be destined to be together." "Hmm! That makes sense!" Thinking of my lewd thoughts when I first saw her,

I avoided her innocent gaze.

"Giggle..." she suddenly covered her mouth and chuckled softly.

I looked at her curiously: "What are you laughing at?" "Oh, sorry, I just remembered something a friend once said," she said, suppressing a laugh, "

If someone doesn't dare to look others in the eye when talking, unless they're very insecure, they must have something to hide. You don't seem like an insecure person,

so you must have something to hide." "Really? That's amazing, you even know I have something to hide?" I tried my best to hide my embarrassment.

"No, no, I just wanted to laugh when my friend said that, I definitely didn't mean you have something to hide." "Looks like I'll have to keep staring at you,

otherwise I deliberately widened my eyes and stared intently into hers.

She didn't back down either, slightly tilting her head and deliberately widening her eyes to meet mine. Her gaze was clear and bright, her black eyes like

bright stars in the night, making it almost impossible to look directly at her. But at this moment, I could only grit my teeth and endure it with her. For a long time, we remained in this

position , and out of the corner of my eye, I could see curious onlookers. Suddenly she leaned close to my face, and I could almost smell her sweet breath.

"Ugh!" she exclaimed, making a disgusted face.

"How come you have eye boogers?" "No way?!" I was startled. I had just showered that morning, how could this be?

I instinctively touched my eyes—nothing there! I'd been tricked! Turning back, I saw her already covering her mouth, laughing hysterically. Looking at her sunny and happy

face, I seemed to be infected by it too. I could hardly believe that she was disabled. In my mind, disabled people are generally more

self-conscious because of their disabilities, and are more or less different from able-bodied people. Although some disabled people appear very confident, it's just

a kind of arrogance to hide their inferiority complex, unlike this girl in front of me, who was completely natural and without any affectation. Her happiness and confidence seemed to come from

within, and even infected those around her. But did she really not care at all?

"I admire you," I said seriously.

"What do you admire about me?" "Your strength." "..." Silence fell between us. Had my words embarrassed her or reminded her of painful memories?

I began to regret choosing this topic.

"I'm not as strong as you think," she finally spoke after a long silence.

"Actually, for a long time, I was quite depressed. Especially when I saw people looking at me with strange eyes, I even thought about dying."

She took a deep breath as she said this.

"If possible, I would give anything to get my lost leg back." I was speechless. Because I was normal, I couldn't understand her

pain. For those with courage, empty and meaningless words of comfort would seem superficial, but I believe that getting through that time required immense

courage . Especially for a beautiful woman. Beneath her confident and happy exterior, she was also vulnerable.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" After a while, she asked softly.

"I'm sorry." This time, I deliberately avoided her gaze.

"It's alright, it's all in the past. Since we can't choose our fate, at least we can choose our lives, right?" "Yes,

if I could, I would really give you my leg." I meant it sincerely when I said that, at least for that moment.

"Thank you." Her eyes were a little surprised, a little grateful.

"I mean it." "I believe you." At dusk, a light rain began to fall outside the car window, as if a white veil had been draped over the world,

obscuring the distant mountains in a hazy mist. The car was still speeding along, and most of the people inside were drowsy. The in-car entertainment system was playing a South Korean romantic

tragedy . She was captivated by the plot, sighing and lamenting along with the ups and downs of the love between the male and female protagonists. At the end, she finally couldn't hold back

her tears, which streamed down her face. I handed her a tissue.

"Why bother? The story is all made up." "Go away, I believe it's true." As she said this, she wiped away her tears, and I couldn't help but smile and shake my head.

"Wasn't I right just now?" She sniffed.

"What did I say?" "Those who are destined to be together may not be destined to be together, and those who are destined to be together may not be destined to be together!" "How so? I feel like what you said has a bit of

a fatalistic

destined to be together but not destined to be together' mean? In today's society, as long as you have courage and two people truly love each other, nothing can stop you. Look at Yang Zhenning and Weng Fan's marriage. They were not only destined to be together, but who could stop them from being together? The man in the movie seemed to love that woman very much,

but if he really loved her, would he be trapped by family and societal pressure? Especially in today's open society, even homosexuality is

accepted, let alone normal heterosexual relationships. The only explanation is that the man wasn't resolute enough, which means he wasn't sincere enough, lacking the determination

to go all in. His fear of loss is the real reason for the tragedy of their love, not your vague and ethereal fatalistic notion of 'destined to be together but not destined to be together.'" After listening

to me, she fell into deep thought. I didn't disturb her and took out a book to read. I quickly entered the world of the book, and I don't know

how much time passed. I felt her staring at me. When I turned my head, she quickly turned her head to stare straight ahead. When I turned my head back to read, she was staring at me again.

I turned to look at her, and she quickly stared ahead, her eyes darting around. I was both amused and annoyed. I closed my book and simply stared at her; her

profile was beautiful.

"Did you see the flower?" Her face wasn't turned towards me, but her eyes were glancing at me sideways.

"Yeah, I saw a huge foxtail grass flower," I replied, pretending to be serious.

She burst out laughing: "You're the foxtail grass flower! I wonder who has such big eye boogers!!!" "You still dare to say that?! If you say it again, I'll tickle you

!" I said, putting my hand to my mouth and breathing on it.

I knew she had feelings for me, but I wasn't sure. I thought she understood what I meant. If she let me tickle her, it meant there was potential for us

to develop a relationship. If she thought I wasn't right for her, she could simply change the subject. This kind of half-hearted, half-joking probing wouldn't hurt

the friendship we had already built.

"I'll say it anyway, what a big eye booger..." Before she could finish, my hand was already on her waist. Even through the blanket, I could

feel the elasticity of her skin. I breathed on her a few times, and she giggled and begged for mercy. Perhaps our voices were too loud, attracting

the attention of the passengers next to us. We stopped joking around. We felt closer to each other.

The night grew deeper, but the rain outside the window grew heavier. Most of the people on the train were already asleep. Perhaps to save electricity,

the bed lights were off. I lay on my dark berth, surrounded by various snoring sounds, but I couldn't fall asleep. I turned to face her.

She was already asleep, her back to me, probably dreaming right now.

Her back was beautiful, her long hair cascading over the pillow, her rounded shoulders, slender waist, and rounded hips all evoking fantasies. Looking at her beautiful back,

I really wanted to hug her, but I never had the courage. If she woke up, it would be a disaster. Having such a beautiful woman beside me, yet unable to touch her,

was truly a regrettable thing. My heart felt like it was being scratched by a kitten, and my lower body was throbbing with a painful urge. I slowly moved my head closer to her, pressing it against

her long hair, inhaling its fragrance, and listening carefully to her breathing. Her breathing was even; she must be asleep.

I reached out and gently placed my hand on her arm, which was exposed outside the blanket. Her skin was smooth and incredibly delicate. I felt my breathing become

deep, and my mind went blank for a moment. I dared not move, trying to suppress my breathing, secretly planning that if she did wake up

, I would pretend I was asleep and that I had accidentally placed my hand on her arm.

She didn't react at all. I gently moved my hand from her arm to her shoulder, gently massaging it. After a long while, seeing that she still didn't react,

I slowly reached my hand towards her front. Through her clothes, my fingertips touched her bra, feeling the elastic flesh beneath. I felt my

mouth go dry, swallowed hard, and my palms were sweaty.

Just as I was hesitating whether to take further action, she suddenly mumbled something, as if talking in her sleep. I was so startled that I quickly withdrew my hand. She

rolled over , lying on her back, her hands raised above her head, placed on either side of the pillow. Because she had rolled over, the blanket covering her upper body had been thrown off, and her clothes were half-open.

In the dim light from the car window, I saw her snow-white breasts, half-covered by a delicate bra, the upper part of her breasts exposed, and I could

vaguely .

Like being struck by lightning, my mind went blank for a moment, and my whole body became inexplicably hot. At that moment, all reason was thrown to the back of my mind;

I only wanted the woman beside me. Taking advantage of the opportunity to cover her with a blanket, I wrapped myself in her blanket as well. Our bodies pressed together, I could clearly feel her

burning heat. Adjusting my somewhat heavy breathing, I gently slipped my hand under the hem of her shirt, my palm resting on her smooth, soft abdomen,

stroking it the side, my nose filled with her unique scent, I slowly pressed my body against hers, my full lower body against her thigh. My hand

moved slightly upwards, little by little, slowly approaching her breasts.

Finally, my palm slipped under her bra, touching her firm, soft, warm breasts. At that moment, I felt a little dizzy,

a sense of unreality. Now, I was holding the breast of a woman I had only recently met; I didn't even know her name. Her breasts weren't

large, just large enough for my palm to hold. I gently kneaded them; her breasts were elastic. My fingers lightly pinched her nipples, rubbing them with slight pressure. Slowly,

her nipples hardened, and her breathing seemed to quicken.

I felt a throbbing, unbearable swelling in my lower body, as if it were about to burst. I flipped her bra over her breasts, exposing them completely. She

remained motionless. I lowered my head and teased her nipples with my tongue, occasionally sucking on them, while my hand moved down to her genitals. I loosened her

belt, unbuttoned her trousers, unzipped her crotch, and parted her pants. My hand lingered on her lower abdomen for a moment before I loosened the elastic of her shorts and slipped my hand

inside.

She had fine, sparse pubic hair, and her labia were tightly closed. My fingers slid up and down between her labia, and at first, a little bit of vaginal fluid seeped out, but as my fingers

continued to play with her, more and more fluid appeared. I kept smearing the fluid on her vulva, moving my middle finger from side to side between

her labia, slowly squeezing it in. Her labia tightly gripped my middle finger, and I pressed my entire palm against it, my fingers on her vulva, my palm against her

pubic hair, especially my middle finger, which was placed entirely between the slits of her vulva. I trembled my entire palm slightly, and her breathing became heavier. I increased

the intensity of my licking and sucking above, and I increased the intensity below as well.

Her vaginal fluid flowed out from between her slits like a fountain, soaking my fingers. My fingers, coated with her vaginal fluid,

moved . Her genitals were soaked with her own vaginal fluid, becoming even smoother. I caressed her wantonly, and the blanket was filled with the scent of her vaginal fluid. I used my ring

and index fingers to part her labia, and my middle finger gently circled at the entrance of her vagina. Suddenly, I thrust my middle finger into her vagina. She probably didn't expect me

to insert it so suddenly; she let out a soft "ah," and her body trembled. I absolutely refused to believe she was still asleep. Her feigned sleep was just a woman's

unique modesty, so she wouldn't face the awkwardness of being naked together.

Her vagina was narrow; when my finger went in, it felt like entering a soft, tight tube. It felt like I could tear it apart if I pushed too hard.

There wasn't as much vaginal fluid as I had imagined. I rotated my middle finger, occasionally bending it to probe the inner walls of her vagina. Perhaps because it was too stimulating,

she breathed rapidly, her chest heaving violently, and her legs tightly gripped my hand.

I couldn't bear it any longer. I pulled my middle finger out of her vagina and turned her body towards me. She obediently followed the command of my hand.

My lips met hers, my tongue teasing hers on her lips. Soon, her tongue slipped into my mouth, our soft tongues intertwining. We

kissed passionately, knowing that tonight would be the last time. I didn't separate from her until I felt like I was suffocating.

Remembering my initial desire for oral sex when we first met, I instinctively pressed her head down, pulling her towards my hips. She obediently

bent over I thrust my hard, throbbing penis towards her mouth. She seemed to realize something then, her neck stiffening as she tried to pull away. I

pressed her head down firmly, pleading softly in her ear, "Please, I'm in pain." She hesitated, then stopped trying to pull away. I

rubbed my penis against her lips, and because of the stimulation, it became huge. She carefully extended her wet, soft tongue and gently

licked the head of my penis. I could feel the stimulation her tongue gave me. She flicked the tip of her tongue at the head of my penis, and fluid kept flowing from my urethra. She didn't seem to mind at all

and continued licking diligently. A tingling sensation I had never experienced before came from the head of my penis. I held her face with one hand and held her

head still with the other. I lifted my penis and my penis naturally entered her mouth. The warmth of her mouth enveloped my penis. She opened her mouth wide and

let my penis move freely in and out of her mouth. Her saliva moistened my penis.

The darkness prevented me from seeing her expression, and lust clouded my judgment. In that moment, I used her as a tool for my release. My thrusts grew increasingly

violent , stirring the saliva in her mouth with lewd smacking sounds. These sounds, in turn, further stimulated my senses. My penis penetrated deeper,

and a muffled whimper escaped her throat. She twisted her head in discomfort, seemingly trying to escape my deeper penetration. At this moment, I was in the pre-ejaculation excitement phase,

my hands firmly holding her head. A large amount of saliva flowed from the corners of her mouth, soaking her face and

wetting the hair hanging on her cheeks.

My penis continued to slowly push deeper into her throat. She gagged intermittently, each gag causing a slight spasm in her body. Her

hands pressed desperately against my pelvis, resisting my further penetration. I could clearly feel my penis pressing against the junction of her throat and esophagus, unable to

go any further—that would be the narrow esophagus. Her mouth was slightly squeezing my glans, and my penis suddenly thickened considerably. A surge of heat erupted at the

back of her throat like a volcanic eruption, like a cannon firing, gushing out streams of semen. At that moment, she gave up all resistance. I heard her helpless swallowing

sounds; in that position, she couldn't vomit, she had no choice but to swallow.

After the passion subsided, her tense nerves relaxed, and I released her. Like a startled deer, she spat out my penis, wiping

the saliva from her mouth with the back of her hand, quickly returning to her original position, this time with her back to me. Reason gradually returned, and the heat in my body cooled down from the ejaculation.

Thinking about how violently I had thrust into her mouth, I felt incredibly guilty. I whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry." Deathly silence. I tenderly

embraced her; her arms were crossed over her chest, protecting her breasts. I kissed her, but her lips were tightly closed. She curled up like a

wounded animal, protecting herself. I suddenly felt a pang of regret. If I had been gentler, perhaps she wouldn't be so sensitive now. But what's done is done,

the mistake has been made, how can I make amends?

The rain outside the car window had stopped sometime ago, and everyone in the car was asleep except for her and me. In the darkness, I gently stroked her smooth, soft hair.

She didn't resist. I didn't know how to explain it. Although she had been willing just now, it was undeniable that the final, frenzied outburst was not what she wanted.

Speechless. Sometimes, when explanations are unclear, silence is perhaps the best choice. Under the blanket, I put my head under her crotch. Her legs were tightly clamped together.

She hadn't fastened her belt, which I had just loosened, and I took the opportunity to pull it down. She struggled as much as she could, but perhaps afraid of waking the passengers next to her, her struggles

weren't fierce. I didn't care whether she wanted it or not, and forcefully pulled off her pants.

Her lower body was completely exposed; in the darkness of the blanket, all I could see was a patch of white flesh. Then I forcefully parted her thighs,

exposing her genitals to me. I cupped her smooth buttocks with my hands, lifting them slightly. Unfortunately, I couldn't see her position clearly in the darkness. I brought my mouth close to her

lower body, gently licking and kissing the base of her thighs with my tongue.

I could clearly feel the rise and fall of her body; her breathing gradually became heavier. My tongue moved around her vulva, gently combing her sparse pubic hair,

pinching it between my lips and gently tugging. My tongue explored her slit, from which flowed streams of tasteless fluid. I mingled this fluid with my tongue

, moving it around her vulva. Her lower body was soaking wet; even the fluid had dripped onto my hands that were supporting her buttocks.

She grabbed my hair with both hands, her legs spread wide. My tongue circled and licked her vaginal opening, causing her to tremble slightly. She

responded enthusiastically. I grabbed her buttocks and pressed her vulva against my face, my tongue plunging deep inside her, swirling and churning. She

arched her back in excitement, her vulva clenching tightly around my tongue, the fluid gushing out like a burst dam, flowing onto my face pressed against her vulva. Her

gushing fluids aroused me, my penis hard as a rock. I thrust even more violently, her vulva making obscene sounds.

Her hands pulled me upwards, and I followed her movements, collapsing onto her body. Her skin was incredibly smooth and soft, so

comfortable . Finally, my glans entered her tender vagina. Although it had been thoroughly lubricated, I still felt the pressure of her vagina on my glans. I slowly

pushed, my penis gradually sliding into her body. She frowned, her bright eyes wide, her mouth slightly agape,

a look Perhaps she hadn't expected the penis entering her to be so thick.

As I penetrated deeper, her brow furrowed even more, and a look of pain appeared on her face. Her hands began to push against my waist, her hips trying to pull back,

but my penis remained firmly attached to her vagina like a magnet. She tried to squeeze her legs together, but my knees held her feet firmly in place.

Finally, my penis was fully inside her. She gasped, letting out a muffled gasp, which, though not loud, was

particularly . I stopped.

I whispered in her ear, "Want to continue?" She said, "It hurts. Don't move it inside, just leave it like that." I said, "I'll move it gently, very

gently." She said, "Okay, then you must be gentle." I slowly moved my penis in and out of her body. Her vagina was warm, especially since it

seemed to have a suction force, tightly enveloping my penis. Each time I thrust in, it felt like piercing her body with a sharp blade, and a fine fluid seeped from her skin.

Tiny beads of sweat glistened on her skin. With each thrust, she let out a soft moan in my ear. At the same time, her vagina released a torrent of fluid from the penetration.

I had never imagined a woman could produce so much fluid; it thoroughly lubricated both of our genitals, making them even smoother. I

increased the speed of my thrusts, and her vagina made a "gurgling" sound.

The air was thick with a lascivious atmosphere. My hands pressed against her firm yet soft breasts, kneading them with increasing force, but I dared not use too much force, afraid of hurting her.

My penis slithered in and out of her vagina like a snake. Her face flushed, her eyes closed, her brows furrowed, and her teeth gently biting

her lower lip. Seeing her delicate, untamed expression, I became even more aroused.

I propped myself up, threw off the blanket covering us, completely disregarding the possibility of the passengers nearby waking up, and pushed her legs towards her chest,

placing them on my arms. Her buttocks were raised, and in the flickering streetlights, she meticulously watched my penis move inside her vagina.

Each movement stirred the inner walls of her vagina; I could see her labia being pulled into her opening during my thrusts, and sometimes

stretched long by my penis.

She realized I was watching as I penetrated her, and she grabbed a corner of the blanket to cover her face. She was completely naked before me, her whole body

swaying with the rhythm of my thrusts. I knew I was about to reach my limit. I grabbed her breasts tightly, pinching her small nipples hard and pulling them

forcefully My penis felt like it was about to burst; every nerve in my body was focused on it. I roared softly, my penis growing thicker and larger. She sensed

my change, her legs clamping tightly around my waist. My penis began its final thrusts, the violent pumping no longer caring about her feelings, only knowing to desperately thrust deeper and

deeper.

Finally, I couldn't hold back any longer, thick white semen gushing from my glans. I pulled my penis out abruptly, a "pop" sound from her vagina, and

sprayed all my semen onto her stomach. Only then did I notice that the sheets beneath her were soaked.

We embraced, comforting each other with our hands. Although there were no words, we both understood that we loved each other. But when the car

stopped , everyone had to part ways and return to their own lives. Tonight's experience, for both of us, was unforgettable.

The car continued speeding along, and I wished this was a journey without end, but reality is cruel. No matter how much time we had left, the car would eventually stop

. I secretly slipped my business card into her pocket. If fate smiled upon us and we were destined to be together, I believed I would see her again. If

we were destined to be apart, then we wouldn't regret what happened today, because we were both truly invested.

Even if it was just a performance, it would be enough to etch it into our memories for a lifetime.

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A passionate journey on the train

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