My Night of Infidelity with the Train Woman

The seven-twenty train pulled out of the terminal with a long, tired whistle, just like me.

My name is Eduardo, though hardly anyone calls me that anymore. At fifty-seven, I carry a belly that hangs over my belt, a polished bald head that gleams under any light, and a face that once, long ago, had a certain charm. Age stole my firm jaw and confident gaze, but it never quite managed to put out that ember that still lights up inside me when a woman worth looking at passes close by.

I tucked my suitcase into the luggage rack and sank down by the window with a heavy sigh. Carmen, my wife, had stayed home, as always. She gave me a dry kiss on the cheek before I left, reminded me whether I had my pills, and told me, “Take care, Edu.” Nothing more. Thirty-two years of marriage reduced to a tepid affection and comfortable silences.

I took the laptop out of my bag without any real intention of opening it. And then she appeared.

She stopped in the aisle for a second, checking the seat number. Tall, with broad, shameless curves, and a body that seemed to have refused to age properly. She must have been in her fifties, but she wore them with an almost animal confidence. The dress showed everything: lightweight, fitted fabric, with a black-and-gold leopard print that clung to her hips, her still-defined waist, and a pair of large, heavy breasts rising and falling with each breath. The neckline wasn’t vulgar, but it didn’t hide a thing either. The hem ended a few inches above her knee, showing firm, shapely legs.

I swallowed.

And for some reason, a line Carmen had said years earlier while watching a movie on the sofa came to mind: “Women who dress in animal print are beasts in bed, Edu. Get to know one and your vacation’s over.”

The stranger sat right next to me. Her perfume hit me at once: sweet, warm, with a spicy note that mingled with the natural heat of her skin. The carriage seemed to shrink in half. I tried to focus on the landscape rolling past the window, but it was impossible not to feel her three fingers away from me.

The first twenty minutes passed in silence. Only the train’s purr and the occasional brush of our arms when the carriage swayed on a curve. Then she turned her head and smiled at me with deliberate slowness, dark red lips curving somewhere between elegance and danger.

“Long trip, huh?” she said in a deep, slightly hoarse voice, as if she’d spent her life laughing under her breath.

I nodded. My mouth was dry.

“Yeah. I’m heading north for work. Three days away from home.”

She settled in more comfortably, crossing her legs naturally. The dress rode up a couple more inches, exposing more firm, brown skin.

“I’m traveling for work too,” she replied, never taking her eyes off mine. “Though I hate trains. I always end up talking to strangers. Or doing much more interesting things.”

From there, the conversation flowed with a ease that disarmed me. We talked about the sticky heat in the carriage, how uncomfortable the seats were, the cities we were leaving behind. But beneath every word ran an electric current. Every glance lasted a second too long. Every smile of hers seemed to hold a promise. I, who for months hadn’t felt anything like this below the belt, noticed something slow and heavy beginning to wake up.

When the train entered my destination station, we got off onto the platform walking shoulder to shoulder. Neither of us mentioned names or hotels. We only knew we didn’t want to be alone that night. We crossed the street to a modest but clean hotel, one of those you see as soon as you step out of the station. We asked for a double room, left our bags, and went back outside.

“Come to dinner with me,” she said, hooking her arm through mine. “I’m hungry.”

We walked through the center like an old couple reunited after months apart. The night was warm, the streetlamps casting soft shadows over her leopard dress and that perfume of hers seemed to cover everything. We ended up in a discreet Italian place with candles on the tables and soft music. We ordered a bottle of red that was gone before the second course.

The conversation turned more intimate, more loaded. She leaned in when she spoke, and her large breasts pressed against the dress’s neckline. I couldn’t stop looking at them, and she made no effort to hide that she knew it.

“You know what I like most about men your age?” she said, toying with the stem of her glass between her fingers. “They’re no longer in a hurry to prove anything.”

Before I could answer, she leaned across the table, took my face in both hands, and kissed me. It wasn’t a tentative kiss. It was deep, wet, shameless. Her tongue slid in without asking permission and tangled with mine with a hunger that had been waiting for months. When she pulled away, her lips were swollen and her eyes were shining.

“I’ve wanted this since the moment I sat next to you,” she whispered.

We paid for dinner almost without waiting for the change. As soon as we turned the first dark corner, she gently pushed me against the wall of a narrow alley. Without a word, she knelt in front of me, opened my pants with expert fingers, and pulled down my underwear.

My cock, already half hard, sprang free. She looked at it like she’d been waiting for it for years.

“What a pretty one you’ve got… and those balls, so heavy,” she murmured in that hoarse voice.

She took it all into her mouth in one movement. Her tongue circled the head, went down to my testicles, and sucked them one by one with devotion, taking them all the way in. It was a sloppy blowjob, loud, deep. Strings of saliva dripped from her chin. No one had ever sucked me like that in my entire life.

I groaned, bracing one hand against the wall. My legs trembled like a kid’s.

When she decided I was hard enough and wet enough, she stood up, gave me another deep kiss tasting of myself, and whispered in my ear:

“Let’s go upstairs. I want you to fuck me all night like you’ve never fucked anyone before.”

***

We got into the room almost running. The leopard dress fell to the floor with a soft whisper as soon as she closed the door. Underneath, she wore only a black lace thong that barely covered anything. Her large breasts were free, swaying with every movement, the dark nipples already hardening.

I couldn’t hold back. I lowered my head and took one nipple into my mouth, sucking hard while I squeezed the other breast with my open palm. The hot, abundant flesh overflowed between my fingers. She arched her back and let out a long moan.

“Harder… I love feeling your mouth there,” she begged, burying her fingers in my bald head.

I devoured her with the hunger of many years of quiet bedtimes. I nibbled, tugged her nipples with my lips, squeezed until my fingers sank into that generous flesh. She moaned louder and louder and pushed my head where she wanted it.

She laid me on my back on the bed and yanked my pants off in one pull. She knelt between my legs and went back to my cock with the same devotion as in the alley, but slower this time. She bobbed her head up and down with a patient rhythm, sucking hard on the way up while one hand massaged my balls, soaked with saliva.

“Now I want you to put it in me,” she said, pulling back with glistening lips.

She climbed onto the bed on all fours and offered me her ass and a completely shaved cunt, already swollen and shining. I positioned myself behind her, rubbed the tip against her hot lips, and pushed until I sank all the way in. She was tight, burning, and slick. I started thrusting with a slow but steady rhythm, listening to the wet slap of each entry.

“Fuck, that feels so good…” I growled, gripping her hips.

She pushed back with the same intensity.

“Harder. Put it in all the way.”

I sped up. Her large breasts swayed heavily beneath her, knocking against each other. I leaned forward, grabbed them with both hands, and squeezed while I kept driving into her. The headboard started banging against the wall.

Without warning, she lifted herself a little and looked back over her shoulder.

“Try the other side.”

I spat generously and pushed in slowly. Centimeter by centimeter, her anus gave way until I was all the way inside. She let out a long, guttural moan, a delicious mix of pleasure and complaint.

“Like that. Slow at first. And then however you want.”

I obeyed. I began to thrust deeper and deeper, hearing my balls slap against her wet sex. The first orgasm caught me by surprise. With a hoarse grunt I came inside her, emptying myself in hot spurts. When I pulled out, a white thread appeared at once, sliding downward.

But she gave me no respite. She turned around, pushed me onto the mattress, and sat on my face, planting her sex in my mouth.

“Eat. Eat your own from me,” she ordered.

I obeyed without thinking. I stuck out my tongue and licked eagerly, swallowing my own cum mixed with her thick juices. I worked from bottom to top, going as deep as I could, while she ground herself against my face and trembled. She came like that, over me, with a muffled cry, flooding my chin. I swallowed what I could. The rest soaked my face.

***

The night went on without pause. I fucked her again from the front, then from behind, then from the front again. I put her on her side, face to face, on all fours, seated on top of me riding me with her breasts bouncing in front of my face. I came in her mouth and she swallowed, looking me in the eyes. I came over her chest and she smeared the cum herself over her nipples so I could lick it off with my tongue.

At some point, while she was giving me another deep blowjob, I grabbed her head and fucked her mouth hard until I came again, filling her throat. She swallowed, coughing a little, with a white thread escaping from the corner of her mouth.

We held each other for a while, sweaty and sticky, trying to catch our breath. But desire never quite died down. She turned over again, offered me her ass, and we started once more, slower now, savoring the feeling of her cunt filled with my previous cum.

The room smelled like concentrated sex: sweat, cum, juices, saliva. The sheets were wrinkled and stained. My rough groans and hers, growing sharper and sharper, mixed with the obscene sound of flesh slapping together.

I’d never fucked like that. Not even when I was young. That woman was exactly what Carmen had described years earlier: an insatiable beast, shameless, devoted, and demanding all at once.

***

The early hours of the morning were well advanced when she sat up for what felt like the hundredth time. Her body was shining, her breasts heavy, her nipples still swollen. She positioned herself over me in reverse and lowered herself until her ass rested over my face.

“I want something nobody’s probably ever asked you for,” she whispered. “Kiss me there. Slowly.”

I felt a shiver. Curiosity won over hesitation. I stuck out my tongue and gently ran it over her. She let out a long moan and pressed herself down a little more.

“Like that. A little deeper.”

I obeyed. I licked in circles, explored that area for the first time in my life, hearing her moan softly into the pillow. Then she turned and sat on my face the other way around, offering me her sex again, still full of my own cum.

“Eat it. I want to see you swallow.”

I licked slowly, sucking her swollen lips, sliding my tongue in as far as I could. The taste was intense and salty and sweet at the same time. She ground herself against my mouth with her hands on the headboard, moaning louder and louder, until she came again over my face with a long cry that must have woken half the hotel.

When she came down from that orgasm, she slid lower and sat on me, taking my cock into her still-sensitive sex. She started riding me slowly, her breasts swaying in front of my face. I took one in each hand and brought a nipple to my mouth, sucking while she rose and fell.

I fucked her several more times before dawn, alternating between both holes, by then with more controlled thrusts. I came inside her one last time, and then ate her again afterward, just as she had taught me.

***

When we finally lay still, exhausted and wrapped around each other, the first sunlight was beginning to slip through the curtain. She took my hand and dragged me to the bathroom without saying a word. The mirror over the sink reflected two bodies marked by the night: me with my prominent belly and shiny bald head, her with reddened breasts and a swollen sex.

We turned on the shower. Hot water fell like a blessing. We held each other under the spray while it washed away some of the sweat and sticky residue. I kissed her slowly, with tenderness mixed with fatigue. My hands returned once more to those heavy breasts, squeezing them gently while the water slipped between my fingers.

She turned around, placed her palms on the tiles, and stuck her ass out.

“One last time,” she asked over her shoulder.

I moved in behind her and entered slowly. Water ran over our bodies. It wasn’t the wild sex of the night, but something slower, almost melancholic. My hands clung to her hips while I pushed all the way in, listening to the soft moans slipping from her lips.

“I want you to finish in my mouth,” she said, turning her head. “I want to swallow it all.”

I sped up a little. When I couldn’t hold back any longer, I pulled out, she knelt under the water, and took me all the way in. She sucked with her eyes fixed on mine. I came hard, filling her mouth, and she swallowed without looking away until nothing was left. Then she stood and kissed me again, slowly, sharing the taste of myself.

We stepped out of the shower, dried ourselves in silence, and began to dress. She put the leopard dress back on, now carrying all the invisible traces of the night. I slipped into the same wrinkled travel clothes. We barely spoke. Only long looks and tired smiles.

Before opening the door, she came close, cupped my face, and kissed me once more. A long, slow kiss that tasted like goodbye and like a secret.

“No need for us to tell each other our names,” she said. “Tonight was ours.”

We went down in the elevator together. Inside that small cubicle we kissed again, this time shorter but just as intense, as if wanting to hold onto the taste a little longer.

When the doors opened, we stepped out into the street. The city was beginning to wake up. She raised her hand and flagged down a taxi. Before getting in, she stroked my cheek.

“Have a good trip.”

“You too,” I answered, my voice rough.

The taxi drove off. I stood there for a moment watching it turn the corner, still feeling the delicious weight of the night in my body. Then I stopped another taxi and headed to my own hotel. There were two hours left before my first meeting and I needed to change into something decent.

By the window I closed my eyes. My body was sore, my cock sensitive, and I felt a deep, pleasurable exhaustion. I knew I was going back to my usual life: to Carmen, to routine, to being the quiet, somewhat boring husband I’d been for decades.

But I also knew that night would never be erased from me.

The woman in the leopard dress. Her heavy breasts. The way she knelt in that alley. The alley with no name. The first anal kiss of my life. The last load she swallowed under the hot water.

I smiled to myself, watching the city drift away through the window. I had fucked like I hadn’t fucked in a very long time. And even if I would never see her again, that night would stay carved inside me forever.