On a business trip last summer, I took an overnight train from Copenhagen to Madrid. I was booked in a second class cabin. I was sharing the cabin with an attractive young couple. When I arrived outside the cabin, I could hear them inside arguing about something. When I opened the door they stopped, but the tension was still there.
As the train got going, we started to chat. They both seemed happier to talk to me than to each other. I learned he was from Norway, she was from Spain. They had been in Oslo visiting his family, then in Copenhagen visiting friends, and were now going back to Spain where they lived.
His name was Christof, tall, fit, standard Scandinavian, seemed like an OK guy.
Her name was Isabelle. She had a hard little body, like a gymnast. She was wearing a sun dress so small that it barely covered the tops of her thighs. She had olive skin and long dark hair and big brown eyes, high cheekbones and full lips that made me think of a feather pillow. She was obviously not wearing bra and her small, perky breasts stood up firm against the thin fabric of the dress, nipples protruding just a little. When she spoke she rolled her “r’s” and stretched her vowels in that sexy Spanish way.
The cabin had four bunks, two on top two on bottom. The bottom bunks doubled as seats and had a table between. Each compartment had a door and was completely enclosed from the outer corridor. Isabelle and I were sitting across the table from each other, both of us next to the window. Christof was sitting to her left, closer to the door of the cabin.
From the moment I sat down, I had a feeling, the kind you can’t really explain why you have, that she was attracted to me and would have jumped at the chance to try me out.
Christof felt the sparks as well. As we talked, I could see he was getting a little tense. He was touching her too much, the way guys do when they are feeling insecure about their girl.
Eventually Isabelle suggested we play cards. I pulled a bottle of whiskey from my bag to share and we settled into a game.
Over the course of about an hour we played several hands and drank the whiskey. Christof and I were drinking two glasses to her one, but Isabelle was half our size, so I was not surprised to see her starting to get drunk. As she did, her eyes lingered on me a little too long, and her foot occasionally brushed my leg under the table.
It did not take long for the tension between them to resurface. It became obvious when she made the cryptic remark, “You know Christof, this whisky tastes like red wine.”
He snapped back, “Drop it. Please.”
“And you know this chocolate, it tastes like red wine too. How could that be, do you think?” she said.
“Please drop it. It was your fucking imagination,” he said, a little too sharply I thought.
She smirked at him in response and turned her attention back to me. From then on, she made occasional off hand comments about red wine. It obviously made Christof uncomfortable but I was left in the dark.
Around 11PM we finished the bottle and Christof wanted to call it a night. But Isabelle, now clearly drunk, was having none of it. She demanded that he go to the dining car and buy another bottle. With some prodding, he eventually went. She followed him out.
She got back first and had what appeared to be a little ball of black lace in her hand. She flipped her sandals off, stepped up onto the seat across from me, and reached for her bag which was stowed above the bunks. The way she was standing, up on the seat, leaning forward and stretching her arms up to the bag, her dress pulled up, exposing her ass. I could see that she was not wearing panties. I immediately went stiff. She was just climbing down as Christof came back in with the second bottle of whisky.
When his back was turned and gave me a long, lingering look, full of mischief. Clearly, she had intended for me to see.
We cracked the second bottle and Isabelle announced that she wanted to change the game. She wanted to play hi-low, with the Beylikdüzü Escort lowest card of each hand doing a shot. Christof said that was a stupid idea. She raised an eyebrow and gave him a stern look. Finally he backed down and agreed to play.
She declared herself the dealer, filled all our glasses half full, and we started to play. Christof lost three hands to each one I lost. Curiously, she never lost. After a while Christof was complaining about his luck. He was too drunk to realize that she was dealing him low cards off the bottom of the deck.
As the game progressed, she was more and more brazen with her flirtation, at one point under the table briefly burying her foot in my crotch and stroking my cock with her toes. I was enjoying the attention but did not dare to reciprocate with her boyfriend sitting right beside her.
It took us a little less than an hour to finish the bottle. By the end, Christof was swimming. In contrast, Isabelle seemed almost sober now, which made me wonder if she had ever been quite as drunk as she seemed. She declared that she was ready for sleep, and sauntered out to the bathroom. Christof, swaying, prepared the bottom bunk for their bed.
I went out to use the bathroom. I was waiting at the door when she came out. I have to admit that there were other open bathrooms and I was waiting at that particular door not without some bad intentions. The door opened, she did not seem surprised to find me standing there. She cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, almost like a challenge.
The cabin beside the bathroom was unoccupied. I took her by the hand, led her inside, and pulled the door shut behind us.
Without a word, she slithered down my front on to her knees and pulled my cock out. She licked and kissed and caressed it. I didn’t think she would actually fuck me with her boyfriend a few yards away. All I expected was a little harmless fun. But the longer she sucked and licked, the more determined I became to make it happen.
I decided to tease her a bit and see just how far she was willing to go. I stood her up and spun her around so her back was to me and she was facing the edge of the table. I put her in a reverse half-Flashman, with my left hand gripping her right breast and my right hand reaching down between her legs. I could see her reflection in the glass of the train window and watched her reaction as my hand slid up under her dress and rounded her hip. She closed her eyes and leaned back into me, turning her head back to nuzzle my neck.
Obviously, I knew she was going to be turned on, but what I found down there was shocking. She was soaked, and because she was not wearing panties, she was wet all over her inner thighs. Her clit was swollen and bulging out of her lips. As my fingers slid up into her, she moaned, grabbed my hand and pushed my fingers deeper inside her. She went up on her tip toes, trying to get her ass closer to my vertical cock.
After a few strokes of my fingers up and down her clit, she slowly turned to face me. “Hmmm…” she was biting her lip as she considered me. She put her arms around my neck and pulled herself up into a sitting position on the table. She wrapped her legs around me, drawing me to her. My cock lined up on her wet slit.
Just as I was about to slide into her, she stopped me. “You can have me, but not here. Back in our cabin,” she said.
“That is the last place we want to be,” I said, thinking of the boyfriend. “We are fine right where we are.”
She reached up and pulled my ear down to her mouth and whispered, “I want you to fuck me while he sleeps right beside us.” Her voice was low and silky.
From the look in her eyes, I realized that this was more than just simple attraction and that I was a pawn in some wicked revenge scheme. “Something to do with red wine?” I asked her.
“Last night in Copenhagen we were out with some friends, mostly Danish girls. They were young and sexy and single. Christof was flirting all night with one of the girls, Beylikdüzü Escort Bayan which was not a big deal. But then they both disappeared at the same time and did not come back for 10 minutes. When we got home I sucked his dick and it tasted like red wine. The girl he disappeared with had been drinking red wine all night.”
Generally, I don’t have a moral issue with helping someone get revenge; it’s all the ensuing, inevitable drama that I don’t like. And I found it unlikely that he would sleep through us having sex in the same room. I told her so. “He’ll never know. Why do you think I got him so drunk? He’ll be sound asleep til morning,” she said, “and it will be super sexy – it has been a fantasy of mine for a long time.”
Clearly it was a risky idea, but the combination of the whiskey and the sexy tart teasing my head against her smooth wet lips brought me around to the idea. And I must admit I did find the thought of fucking this little sex pot while her boyfriend slept a few feet away to be pretty damn exciting.
When we got back, as promised, Christof was snoring away on the bottom bunk. I climbed up on the top bunk on the other side of the cabin. She prodded him a few times to check that he was sound asleep; he did not stir. Then she quietly climbed up with me.
Within a few seconds I had her naked and spread out on her back. Her body felt even better than it looked. Firm in all the right places, skin soft and smooth, her smell a mix of flowers and sex. And that pillow mouth was exactly as soft and succulent as I had imagined it would be.
I kissed and licked my way down her firm little chest to her flat belly, and down between her legs. She was waxed smooth. I sucked her juicy clit into my mouth and she gasped and bucked her hips against my face. Almost before I got started, she was coming hard and not being quiet about it. I tried to cover her mouth with my hand but the little imp bit me. I thought, ‘To hell with it, if she wakes him up, he’s too drunk to be dangerous anyway.’
And, as it went, she did wake him up. Just as she was coming back to earth, he stopped snoring and shifted on the bed. We both went absolutely still, holding our breath. Her clit was still in my mouth and I did not dare to release it for fear it would make a sucking sound coming out. Then he whispered into the pitch black cabin “Isabelle? Isabelle?” I realized holding my breath was not the best strategy and started deep heavy breathing so he would think I was asleep. After a minute, he got up, and left the cabin.
“Fuck, now what?” I whispered to her. She casually pulled her dress on, slipped down from the bunk, and out of the cabin. I was left lying there, cock throbbing, heart in my throat, and nothing to do but wait to see how it turned out.
A few minutes later they returned together. He was obviously still drunk and bumped around the cabin getting into the bunk. I continued my deep breathing routine.
They got in bed together, and I could hear rustling as he started to go for her.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
He whispered back, “I just had the sexiest dream that you were coming over and over again. I’ve got to.” He was completely drunk, and slurring.
“Why don’t you go down there and see if you can taste whisky?” I heard her whisper.
‘Oh shit’ I thought. This was not the path I wanted the evening to take – fighting with some enormous drunk Viking over his tart of a girlfriend – and not even having fucked her.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Don’t like the idea too much do you? Well neither did I.”
“What are you saying?”
“Nothing my dear, but it would serve you right if I had.”
There was more rustling, it seemed he was trying to kiss her and she was trying to fend him off. And then he said,”My God, you are soaked. And where are your fucking panties?”
There was a long pause, in which I forgot to do my deep breathing but they were not paying any attention to me. Finally she answered, “You know how you found Esenyurt Escort me in the hall, well I had been in the bathroom… taking care of myself.”
“And what had you so turned on that you would do that in a train bathroom?”
“Well… I was thinking about how sexy it would be to fuck some handsome stranger on a train while you laid there snoring. You were passed out and could not take care of me, so I went out and took care of myself.”
I heard him make some strange Nordic growling sounds. And in short order, he was driving into her with no thought at all for the poor guy sharing a cabin with them. They fucked hard for about ten minutes. All I could do was lay there, hand on my cock, dripping pre-cum onto my stomach. Finally they came together and collapsed, heaving breath. I few minutes later he was snoring again and she extricated herself and slipped out of the cabin.
When she got back, she went straight for my bunk. “Are you crazy? That was not a close enough call for you?” I whispered.
“We’re not finished,” was all she said.
For a moment I felt some hesitation about the risk. But I was still extremely turned on, listening to them fuck had not improved my condition. I also did not like the idea of sloppy seconds, but a quick grope confirmed she had cleaned herself up while she was out. By the time she slid down my front and ran her tongue up the length of my cock, all hesitation was gone.
After sucking my cock for a few minutes she straddled me and guided my cock into her tight tight ass, slowly settling down on me with a satisfied moan. Then she leaned down and whispered in my ear, “He might be able to forgive me for fucking you, but this he would never forgive. He thinks he’s the only one to have ever done this.” It was too much for me and after a few plunges I came hard inside her.
We fucked with enthusiasm for about half the night – I just could not get enough of her. Doggy style was her favorite and she wanted it done hard. While I rammed into her from behind she used her hand to rub her pussy like she was trying to start a fire. She had several orgasms back to back doing it like that.
For reverse cowgirl, she wanted fingers up her ass while she bucked on my cock. I was happy to oblige. A few times, after particularly intense orgasms, she tried to fall asleep on me. I would bring her back to life by sucking on her clit until she was wide awake and grappling with me to get my cock back inside her.
For missionary, she grabbed her ankles with her hands and pulled her legs up behind my back, angling her hips up for deepest penetration. I used the side wall of the train cabin for leverage so I could pound harder into her.
Occasionally, when she was coming hard, we would hear his breathing rhythm change and we would freeze, my cock buried to the hilt in her. We would hold the position, not daring to move, until he was breathing regularly again.
I came in her three more times, twice in her pussy, once in her mouth. I lost count of how many times she came, it was more than ten. The last one, we came together and I just had the strength left to roll off her.
For the rest of the night, she lay there in my arms, caressing my chest, nibbling on me occasionally. Neither of us slept. We went at it more gently and with less urgency twice more before dawn.
As the sun started to come up their station was approaching. She dressed and slipped back down to Christof, who was still snoring away. She shook him awake and punched and prodded him until he had gotten himself together. As he was getting their bags down, the train was just pulling in. I was staying on until the next stop so I stayed in bed, pretending to be asleep. He left to carry their bags out to the carriage door.
As soon as he was out the door, she jumped up on the bunk and gave me a long deep kiss. Then she shoved something into my hand, “Something to remember me by,” she said.
“Are you going to tell him?” I asked her.
She considered it, “Maybe, depends on how he behaves from now. If he ever comes home with a dick tasting like red wine again, he is going to hear all about it – every last sticky sweaty panting grinding detail.”
She gave me another kiss and was gone. In my hand I found the little ball of black lace, the panties she had taken off the night before.