A Very Fast Train

Many many thanks to Danielle for her edits

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The very fast train cut through the flat French countryside. The afternoon light was grey and the fields outside looked cold and wet. Distant villages whizzed through, as the train rushed past them, rushing to the channel. I poured some more blondish beer into my plastic cup and gazed outside. I like the fast train, the way it shakes, the humming of the massive engines, the slick design. Two hours fifteen from Paris to London, if only D'Artagnan had it, not to mention Hitler. In trains you can just think, look at the countryside sweeping past you and thank god you don't live in one of those villages. I could even remember making this journey before they dug the tunnel, four hours to the coast, three on the ferry and another two hours to reach, tired and wet, a grizzly London. Look at us now - I looked at my window reflection standing in the café car.

The bar was filled with the usual crowd: business people heading back for the Monday meetings; American and Chinese tourists marveling at the most boring scenery possible; failed hipsters, like me, still unsure after several years whether they prefer the buzz of Hackney to the beauty of the Canal Saint Martin.

An English woman walked, somewhat unsteadily, until she reached the window and sighed with relief as she grabbed the counter. She was clearly English, it was just obvious. I don't know how I could I tell it. I just could. The sandy hair, the good quality buy boring business dress and jacket, the way she struggled uncorking the small wine bottle she bought from the counter.

"Here, let me help you with that." I presented my palm.

"Thanks," she said, looking surprised.

"These shoes," I said, gesturing to her stilettos and handing her the open bottle, "must not be very comfortable."

"Yeah, I didn't know the train moved so much. Thanks."

She poured some red wine into her own plastic cup and looked outside, I sipped my beer. We were both looking outside, but observing the other in the reflection. Mid-thirties, I thought, but dressed like a grown-up. Pretty, in an English way.

"First time?"

"I'm sorry?" she looked at me.

"To Paris."

"No, but the first time I'm taking the train back. I came with Easyjet."

I smiled, "the train is classier, so you have never taken the tunnel?"

"Yes, definitely classier; and no, never taken the tunnel either. The thought is slightly scary actually."

We went back to looking outside at the plains of Normandy, or Brittany or whatever it was. I leaned with my elbow on the counter and turned to her. She had a pleasant face, tasteful makeup, terrible golden jewelry. Her fingers constantly caressed her wedding ring. Something was troubling her. There was something glowing about her, but also anxious.

"It doesn't actually go on the seabed , you know" I said, "it is a tunnel under the sea."

"Oh, I know. Still, it's an odd thought." Her mind seemed miles away.

"Business trip?" I asked.

"What?" she blushed and touched her ring, "yes, yes...a meeting, I mean a conference."

I nodded. She did not go on a business trip to Paris, not on the weekend. She drank some more, gulping the wine a bit too hastily.

"Well I hope you enjoyed the city, at least the weather was nice." I set a trap.

"Yes...lovely." She said, not looking at me.

This woman spent the entire weekend in the hotel room; the weather in Paris was dreadful, a grey and chilly November. I looked at her with curious eyes. She was, as the Brits say, fit.

"He took the plane?" I asked frankly.

"Yes...What? What do you mean?" she looked at me surprised and slightly angry.

I tried to sneer while drinking, my eyes fixed on her, but it quite didn't come off as suave as I intended it.

"Oh..." she sighed, "he thought it would be safer. Is it that obvious?"

"You learn to notice these things," I said with compassion, "there is nothing wrong about it."

"Isn't there? I'm not so sure. I've never done it before." She looked at me somewhat pleading, "I'm afraid."

"Don't worry," I smiled at her. "He won't notice. Was it good?"

She looked back outside and blushed, her face became radiant, "yes, it was great. Made me feel..." her words faded away.

"Well," I also looked out, "you are a very pretty woman; you should enjoy yourself."

She moved restless, as if the compliment somewhat jarred her. But finally she let it go and replied.

"Thanks, I'm just not sure I'm that type of a woman."

"Don't be so hard on yourself; there is nothing wrong with it. It doesn't mean anything if you don't want it to. You had fun; I can see that, you're radiant. Will you see him again?"

She sniggered, "Yes, tomorrow, in the office."

"Ahh..." I said, "that makes things slightly more complicated."

I threw the can and cup in the bin and turned around, resting my back to the window. The woman drank quietly as I watched the same landscape from the window across the car. Two elder American women were pointing at the distant church spire.

"We will be in the tunnel soon." I said looking at my watch.

She turned to me and brushed some hair from her face.

"Did you just say I looked radiant?"

"Yes, I did. You seem somewhat..." I shrugged, "glowing."

We stared into each other's eyes for several seconds. I could feel something rising in me, an excitement.

"Thanks..." she finally whispered. "I'm..."

I put a finger softly on her lips.

"Shush...I don't want to know."

She nodded, our eyes still fixed. She swallowed her saliva and looked at the car's exit.

The English woman, still somewhat wobbly in her inconvenient heels, walked to the electronic door, supporting herself on the various bars and panels. The door swished in a pleasing sound as it opened and we started crossing the train. At every car passage, she looked behind her, to confirm that I was still following.

"Stop" I said; grabbing her hand as we crossed another wagon.

I opened the small toilet cabin and looked inside, it was clean enough.

"In here."

The woman looked around quickly, and ensuring that no one saw her, slid past me into the cabin. I came in glued to her and locked the door.

The cabin was very small. It was all plastic and pastels. It smelled, surprisingly, of nothing. We had to squeeze around each other, navigating between the basin and toilet. I dropped the lid and angled my lean body to fill all the space. This place wasn't designed for more than one person. The panel lights struggled with the occupation, making the cabin dark but not obscure. Our faces were only a few inches apart, no other room available. My eyes looking straight into her blue eyes; I saw excitement, fear, arousal...

"You have pretty eyes." She said.

"Thanks." I replied, smiling.

Our mouths drew together, hesitantly, until they met timidly. I felt the cheap wine on her lips, her quivering, and then we pulled each other in passionately. We kissed hard, banging our heads against the plastic walls. Glued at the lips, I pulled her body to me and squeezed her.

"Oh..."she gasped, as my lips left hers and started kissing down her cheek and neck.

"This is so dirty..." she whispered as her fingers muddled by hair

My hands started unbuttoning her jacket, reaching underneath to caress her beige blouse. With some awkward elbow jerks, she took off the jacket and I hung it on the door's hook as our mouths joined again. She managed to kick off her ridiculous shoes as her hand went around my waist and caressed my back. I pulled her blouse out from her skirt and started, with fiddling fingers, to unbutton it, finally touching her belly. Her hands started unbuttoning me as well. I could feel her long nails sliding under my shirt and over my chest.

The train around us shook as I knew we entered the tunnel.

Removing the last of her buttons, I spread her blouse open and looked at her round breasts in the white lace bra.

"This is her special bra", I couldn't help thinking, as I cupped each breast with a hand, feeling her nipples getting harder through the fabric.

She reached behind her, under her blouse, and undid her bra strap with surprising ease, letting it drop just enough for the nipples to emerge and me to dive into her cleavage.

"Oh...yes," she murmured as I started licking the smooth skin of her breasts. I slid a hand between the loose bra and the flesh, feeling the softness. The woman put her hand on the back of my head and pulled me lower into her breast as I started nibbling on her nipple. I took as much of her tit in my mouth, pinching the other one with my hand, feeling the goose bumps on her aureole.

My other hand, in the meantime, started exploring beneath her skirt, pulling it up as far as possible and stroking her thigh. Slowly, working on one side at a time, I pulled her skirt until I could feel her underwear.

"Yes...touch me....." I heard her whisper as my fingers brushed against her pelvis, feeling her getting wet.

Rising, I looked at her wildly and grabbed her beneath her waist. I lifted her slightly until she could rest on the small washbasin. Her foot, in stockings, pushed against the door frame as we kissed again and I stroked both her nipple and moist underwear. She reached down and unbuckled me, letting my trousers fall to the linoleum floor.

Holding her underwear with one hand, I pulled them to the side and was able to caress her. She shuddered as my finger contoured her lips and brushed her clitoris. Her own hand, , found its way into my underwear and was stroking my penis. Our mouths glued again as we explored each other's hidden areas.

Finding a way into her, I slowly inserted a finger as my thumb was pressing her clit. She started moaning softly as she pulled me closer. The more I stroked her, the harder she held me; panting. Slowly, I bent lower and lower, kissing her neck, throat, chest, breasts, stomach until I reached her belly-button

Pushing her skirt, which was already mostly gathered around her waist, up, and pulling the underwear aside, I started licking her pussy. The English woman grabbed the handle fixed to the wall as my tongue explored her labial lips. I pushed further, sticking my mouth to her upper vulvae until I could feel her round clit, licking it with small and fast laps.

"Oh, your stubble..." I heard her murmur as she tried to maintain her balance on the tiny sink. "Don't stop..."

Managing to push through a finger, I continued to lick her pussy and finger her until I could feel her shudder and whimper. Her leg rested on my shoulder as she passed her fingers in my hair, muttering in-comprehensively.

Slowly rising, I helped her down from the sink. She hugged me strongly, squeezing my lean body. I looked at her and kissed her, letting her taste herself. Breaking apart, she smiled at me wildly and pushed me back on the covered stool. I dropped back, banging my head on the wall as she jerked me to erection and slowly lowered herself on to my hard cock.

"Ah..." I moaned softly as the head of my penis touched her pussy. She pulled her skirt further up with one hand whilst guiding the head inside her. Now it was my turn to pant.

Slowly, she inserted it into her hole, licking her lips as I entered. My hands went to her breasts and I started massaging them as she continued to lower herself on to me. Her slit swallowed by penis as her thighs held her up, increasing the pressure on my member. I looked at her face as she arched backwards and let her sandy hair loose...Christ, what a sex machine. I could help wonder who this fool of a husband was that mistook this tigress for a domesticated kitten.

"Fuck me..." she moaned as her hips pushed her up and down my long cock.

Her hand went down and she started stroking herself as she was rattling with the movement of the train. I swallowed my abundant spit and as she buried her wet cunt all the way onto my penis, resting there for a moment, my cock plunged deep inside her. Looking at me wildly, she put her hand on my shoulder as I started to rock her up and down. We smiled at each other like naughty rascals.

"Yes...like this," she whispered, "fuck me hard..."

Rocking her as hard as I could, I could feel the pressure being amassed in my scrota, hoping for quick release. I squeezed her nipples hard, seeing she enjoyed it, as her hand rubbed her clit furiously. Soon, she jerked again and collapsed on top of me as I pushed hard into her, feeling her orgasm subside.

Panting in my ear, she slowly retrieved her breath as my penis continued to jerk inside her. Leaning backwards, she looked at me again as I pushed her up, uncorking my shafts from her, and stood, somewhat unstable. She took a tiny step back in the crammed cabin until her back was against the basin and mirror again. I put my hand around her waist and turned her around. Understanding my intention, the woman arched her back, pulled her skirt back up and rubbed her pale ass on my pelvis.

"Yes," she said leaning against the mirror, "take me like that."

Gulping as I saw the reflection of my sweaty face in the mirror, I pulled the string of her panties away and slid my cock between her thighs to her wet, hot hole. Grabbing her hips, I pushed forward and buried the full length of my dick in her.

"Ahhh..." we both moaned simultaneously as her buttocks squeezed against my waist. I leaned forward and started licking her ear as she grabbed the door handle and pushed into my cock.

I started penetrating her vagina in slow and strong and deep strokes, feeling my cock gliding between her thighs every time. Her hand went down as she stroked herself and my shaft. I grunted and increased the speed.

"Yes...like that..." she whispered as my palms squeezed her ass-cheeks and my prick entered her harder and faster. "Fuck me hard..."

Obliging to her needs, I flattened her against the mirror and penetrated her with strong, deep thrusts. My hand slid again to her belly and breast, clutching her tit as I felt the orgasm building in me.

"Merde..." I grunted again as I fucked her faster, feeling the spunk driving through my shaft. She came again and started a series of loud shrieks. My hand went to her mouth to muff the sound and she bit me.

Pumping in and out of her lovely pussy, I was fully taken by the fucking. My cock, feeling its role was nearly done, pushed as far as it could inside her before pistonning out again. My tip felt charged as the cum was pushing to explode out. I started three final thrusts before the sudden release of ejaculation took me. I moaned as I fucked her as fast as I could, draining my spunk to the max. I could feel her twitching underneath me, gyrating her bum on my pelvis as I clutched to fill her to the max. I felt weaker and weaker, slowly dropping on her back, as my hips continued to drive slower and slower thrusts into the woman. Finally, I was almost breathless, struggling to find balance as I straightened up and supported myself on one of the numerous cabin handles. I gulped, trying to restore my balance, and absently wiped my cock on her ass.

We were both silent for a while. The woman started cleaning herself with paper towels and I did the same. Slowly, she turned around, looking at me. Her hair was a mess around her face, but her eyes were shining, bright blue. I sighed with relief in post-orgasmic calmness. I started saying something; but she softly put her finger on my lips and nodded. I nodded back.

Pulling up my trousers and closing my belt, we managed to move around in the cabin until I was near the door. I opened it slowly, checking if there was anyone outside, before looking at her again. She looked at me and smiled. I smiled back, very briefly, and jumped out of our cabin to the toilet cabin on the opposite side of the train corridor.

Once inside, I sat on the stool and retrieved by breath...I looked at my watch, we must have already passed the tunnel and would be in London very soon. I washed my face and cock, tried to comb my hair and look respectable. Then relieved myself and tried to regain my calm.

When I finally left the cabin, I could already see the outskirts of London through the window. The other cabin was empty, no trace of us remaining. Still a bit unhinged, I walked back to my seat and sank in it, watching as the fields gave way to suburbs, buildings, other trains. We whizzed by suburban stations, watching as the people waited for their local connection.

An elegant woman in a dark business suit and beige blouse brushed past me as she walked down the aisle, dragging an overnight suitcase. I looked up as she continued to the doors; she was rubbing her wedding ring with her finger. For a second, I thought she looked back at me, just as I heard the train manager announce that we are approaching St Pancras, where this train will end.