夜のコンパートメント

My wife thought I was sleeping, her breathing a soft metronome against my shoulder. But my eyes were open, watching the corridor light spill under our compartment door, and I was thinking about Lena from apartment 14. The one who always smiled too long when we passed in the stairwell. The one who was, right now, three compartments down, probably in nothing but a silk slip, and I couldn't stop my cock from thickening just at the thought.

The train rattled through the dark Polish countryside, a lullaby of steel and rhythm. I’d slipped out to get water from the dining car and seen her door ajar, a wedge of warm light, and her voice, low and amused: “Can’t sleep either?” She was sitting on the bunk, knees drawn up, a paperback in her lap. She wasn’t wearing a slip. She was wearing a thin t-shirt, no bra, and the hard points of her nipples were impossible to miss.

“Mark,” I said, my voice a little hoarse.

“I know who you are, Mark.” Lena’s eyes traveled down my body, slow, deliberate. “Your wife’s out cold. I heard her snoring through the wall.”

I stepped inside, the door sliding shut with a soft hiss. The air was thick with her perfume, something floral and warm. “What are you doing, Lena?”

“Being honest.” She set the book aside and stood up, the t-shirt riding up to show a strip of flat, tanned stomach. “I’ve been thinking about this since the summer barbecue. When you were grilling and your shirt stuck to your back.” She walked to me, stopping an inch away. “I thought about your hands on me. Your mouth.”

My brain was screaming no, but my dick was screaming louder. I reached out, my fingers finding the hem of her shirt, and the moment I touched her skin she let out a sharp breath. “Fuck, Mark. Do it.”

I pulled the shirt over her head, and her tits bounced free, heavy and full, her nipples already tight. I took one in my mouth, and she moaned, a low, guttural sound she immediately stifled with her own hand. “Shh,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “We have to be quiet.”

Quiet. The word became a game. The train’s rhythmic clatter was our cover, and every sound we made was a secret. I pushed her back onto the narrow bunk, my hands finding the waistband of her shorts. She lifted her hips, helping me slide them off, and there she was, completely naked, her pussy glistening, her thighs already trembling.

I knelt between her legs and looked up at her. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

“Show me,” she breathed.

I leaned down, my tongue finding her clit, and she bucked against my mouth, biting her own fist to stay silent. I licked her, slow and deep, tasting her, feeling her get wetter, her hips starting to grind against my face. She was so fucking responsive, her skin flushing, her breath hitching.

“Stop,” she gasped, pushing my head away. “I want you inside me. Now.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I stood, shoving my own sweatpants down, my cock springing free, hard and aching. She grabbed it, stroking me once, twice, her eyes locked on mine. “God, Mark. You’re big.” Then she guided me to her entrance.

I pushed inside her in one slow, slick stroke, and we both froze. She was so tight, so hot, and the way her eyes rolled back, her mouth forming a perfect, silent 'O'... it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I started to move, a slow, deep rhythm that had her gripping the thin train mattress, her legs wrapping around my waist.

“Harder,” she whispered, her voice a ragged plea. “Please.”

I gave it to her, pounding into her, the bunk creaking in protest. Her tits bounced with each thrust, and she bit her lip so hard I thought she’d draw blood. I could feel the pressure building, the heat in my balls, and I knew I wasn’t going to last.

“I’m gonna cum,” I grunted.

“Inside me,” she begged, her eyes rolling back again, her face a mask of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. “Cum inside me, Mark.”

That sent me over the edge. I buried myself to the hilt and came, a hot, pulsing flood that made her gasp and clench around me, her own orgasm ripping through her, her body shuddering violently. We stayed like that for a long moment, tangled together, breathing hard, the only sound the endless rhythm of the tracks.

I pulled out, collapsing beside her, my heart hammering. She turned her head, her lips brushing my ear. “Your wife will never know.”

I looked at her, her face flushed, a lazy, satisfied smile on her lips. The guilt was there, a faint, distant echo. But it was drowned out by the feel of her skin against mine, the scent of sex and her perfume, the secret we now shared in the swaying darkness of the night train. I knew I’d do it again.

CATEGORIES: [Ahegao, Just the Two of Us, On the Train, Cheating, Neighbor]