The Night Coach

The train rattled through the dark countryside, its rhythm a steady heartbeat beneath us. I'd picked this compartment because it was empty, hoping for sleep, but then she'd slid open the door, duffel bag over one shoulder, and asked if the seat was taken.

"No, go ahead," I said, and she'd smiled, and that was it. I was fucked.

Her name was Lena. She was thirty-four, a client at the gym where I worked as a personal trainer. I'd spent three months watching her squat, watching her press, watching the way sweat beaded on her upper lip when she was exhausted. She had a husband at home, a good guy who picked her up sometimes. I knew all this. I didn't care.

"You're up late," she said, settling into the seat across from me. The compartment was small, dim, the overhead light a pale yellow. Outside, nothing but black fields and the occasional distant light.

"Couldn't sleep. You?"

"Same." She stretched her arms above her head, and her shirt lifted, showing a strip of taut stomach. "Long trip ahead."

"Where you headed?"

"Just visiting my sister. She's had a rough month." She paused. "You?"

"Going to see my brother. He just had a kid."

We sat in silence for a moment. The train swayed. Her knee was close to mine, inches away.

"Remember that last session?" she said quietly. "When you spotted me on the bench press?"

I remembered. Her hands trembling, my voice in her ear counting reps. The way she'd arched up at the last one, gasping.

"Yeah," I said. "I remember."

"You were so close." She laughed, a low sound. "I could feel your breath on my neck."

"Lena..."

"I know," she said. "I know I'm married. I know this is crazy." She looked at me, her eyes dark in the dim light. "But I don't care right now. Do you?"

I didn't answer. I reached across the gap between us and took her hand. Her fingers were warm, trembling slightly.

—Ven aquí —dije.

She slid out of her seat and onto my lap, straddling me, her thighs tight against my hips. The train rocked, and she steadied herself with a hand on the window frame. Her face was inches from mine.

"I've thought about this," she whispered. "Every time you touched me at the gym. Every time you corrected my form."

—Yo también.

I kissed her. Her lips were soft, hungry. Her tongue found mine, and she moaned, a sound that was almost swallowed by the train's noise. My hands slid under her shirt, up her back, feeling the smooth, warm skin. She was fit, every muscle defined from months of training. I could feel her heart hammering.

"Fuck," she breathed against my mouth. "I want you to fuck me right here."

I pulled her shirt over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts were full, her nipples already hard. I bent my head and took one in my mouth, and she gasped, her fingers tangling in my hair.

"Yes," she hissed. "Just like that."

The train lurched around a bend, and she steadied herself, laughing. "This is so crazy."

"You want to stop?"

"God, no."

I slid my hand down her stomach, past the waistband of her leggings. She was wet, soaking wet. She gasped when I touched her, her hips pressing forward.

"Por favor," susurró. "Te necesito dentro de mí."

I lifted her, and she helped me push down my jeans. Her leggings came off in a tangle of fabric. She was bare underneath, completely bare. She reached down, guided me to her, and then she sank onto me, slow, her eyes locked on mine.

The feeling was electric. She was tight, hot, and she took me all the way, her breath catching.

"Fuck," she whispered. "You feel so good."

I held her hips, letting her set the rhythm. She rocked against me, slow at first, then faster, her head thrown back, her mouth open. The train's motion matched ours, a steady, rocking beat.

"Harder," she said. "Please."

I gripped her ass and thrust up into her, deep, harder. She cried out, a sharp sound, and clapped her hand over her mouth.

"Quiet," I said, grinning.

"I can't." Her voice was a whisper. "You're going to make me come."

"Then come."

She did, her body shuddering, her nails digging into my shoulders. I followed, emptying myself into her, my face buried in her neck, her scent filling my lungs.

Afterward, we sat tangled together, the train still rocking, her head on my shoulder.

"Eso fue..." empezó ella.

"Unexpected," I said.

"Yeah." She laughed softly. "But I don't regret it."

"Me neither."

She kissed my cheek, then slowly disentangled herself, pulling her clothes back on. She sat across from me again, her hair mussed, her eyes bright.

"So," she said. "When we get back, you still my trainer?"

I laughed. "If you want."

"I want." She smiled. "But maybe we keep the sessions private from now on."

"Deal."

The train rattled on through the night, and we talked until dawn, easy and quiet, the tension gone. When she finally fell asleep, her head against the window, I watched her, and I knew this wasn't over. It was just the beginning.

CATEGORIES: [Train, Fitness, Cheating, Night Sex, Stranger]