Compartment Games

The train swayed gently through the darkness, rare lights flickering past the window. In the cramped compartment, me—Alex, a barista—and her, a redhead named Vicky who'd been coming into the café for weeks, had spent the last three hours unable to tear our eyes off each other. Her knee kept brushing mine under the thin blanket, and every time she leaned down to grab the wine bottle, the deep neckline of her blouse gave me a glimpse of the lace bra underneath. The tension hung thick in the air, as heavy as her perfume.

"Truth or dare?" she whispered, licking her lips. Her eyes sparkled with wine and mischief.

"Dare," I said, not looking away from her mouth.

Vicky smiled, reached into her bag, and pulled out a small makeup case.

"Then I'm dressing you up. In my clothes. All of it."

I laughed, but my heart was already pounding somewhere in my throat.

"You're serious? I'm like twice your size."

"That's exactly why it'll be hot," she said, winking. "Say yes, or I'll pick truth and make you confess how you pictured me naked every time you made my latte."

"Fine, fuck it. Dress me up."

She hopped up, slid the compartment door shut, and clicked the latch. She dimmed the lights, leaving only the faint glow of the night lamp. First, she pulled my t-shirt over my head. Her fingers trailed across my chest, her nails lightly scratching my nipples. I flinched.

"Hands up, handsome," she giggled.

She slipped her white blouse onto me. The buttons barely closed over my chest, the fabric straining, outlining every muscle. Then she made me drop my jeans. I stood there in just my boxers, my cock already tenting the fabric noticeably.

"Whoa," Vicky breathed, biting her lip and staring right at it. "Looks like you're enjoying this game."

She handed me her tight black leggings. I wrestled into them, the material clinging to my thighs and ass, and in front, there was no hiding the bulge. Vicky couldn't resist—she ran her palm over it.

"Mmm... very sexy," she whispered, her voice dropping, her breathing quickening.

"Your turn," I said hoarsely. "Symmetry."

Vicky didn't argue. Slowly, never breaking eye contact, she peeled off her blouse, then her skirt. She stood there in black lace. Her nipples were already poking through the thin fabric.

"Want to take the rest off?" she asked playfully.

"Yeah."

I stepped closer. The compartment filled with our heavy breathing and the rhythmic clatter of the wheels. I unclasped her bra, and her tits spilled out—heavy, warm. Her nipples were dark pink and rock hard. I leaned down and took one in my mouth, running my tongue over the sensitive bud. Vicky moaned, threading her fingers through my hair.

"Alex... harder..."

I moved to the other breast, while my hands slid her panties down. My fingers found her slick slit immediately. She was already soaked, her clit swollen and throbbing. I ran a finger over it, and Vicky arched her back.

"Oh... god... yes... right there..."

We collapsed onto the bottom bunk. Me in her blouse and leggings, her completely naked. Vicky yanked the leggings and boxers down in one motion. My cock sprang free—thick, with a glistening bead of precum on the head.

"Fuck, that's beautiful," she breathed, and took it in her mouth without hesitation.

Her lips wrapped around the head, her tongue swirling along the frenulum. I growled, grabbing a fistful of her red hair. Vicky sucked deep and sloppy, saliva running down the shaft. She'd take me almost to the base, then pull off and jerk me fast with her hand, staring up into my eyes.

"I want you inside me," she finally gasped, pulling away. "Right now."

I flipped her onto her back. Her legs spread on their own. I dragged the head through her slick folds and slammed in. She was hot, tight, drenched. Vicky let out a loud gasp, digging her nails into my shoulders.

"Fuck me... harder... don't stop..."

I started to move. The compartment filled with the slap of skin on skin, her moans, my ragged breathing. The blouse had come undone on me, and Vicky's tits bounced with every thrust. I grabbed her hips and drove deeper. Each time I buried myself to the hilt, she cried out and clenched around me.

"Turn over," I ordered.

Vicky got on all fours, bracing her hands against the compartment wall. I entered her from behind, one hand twisted in her hair, the other smacking her firm ass. She arched her back, pushing into me harder.

"Yes... just like that... deeper... I'm gonna come!"

I sped up. Her pussy started to pulse, gripping my cock. Vicky screamed, her body convulsing in orgasm. I couldn't hold back—hot streams of cum flooded into her, again and again. We froze, trembling, slick with sweat.

After a moment, she turned around, kissed me on the lips, and laughed.

"You know... those leggings looked fucking incredible on you. Think you could keep them on till morning?"

"Only if you wear my t-shirt. Nothing else."

"Deal," she whispered, pressing her hot, damp body against mine.

The train kept racing through the night, and we lay tangled in the rumpled sheets, grinning, already plotting our next game.