On the Train: A Cougar's Public Sex Story

Lots of us love the idea of risky sex, which is one reason the UK dogging and voyeur scene is so strong. But on a train?

Fucking a stranger on a train is a common fantasy, and what makes this story more fun is the mature woman at the centre of it, who clearly enjoys the kinkier side of life.

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It was the morning commute, we were all packed in, and once again there was standing room only. I was next to the only woman in the carriage: brunette hair tied up very professionally, an expensive-looking suit, and a skirt that hugged the curves of her round arse perfectly.

Then the train lurched hard to the left, I lost my balance and fell against her, and she stumbled. She turned round with an embarrassed smile, and I apologised. We got chatting about how packed the trains always were and how much we hated standing, when she said she knew a secret place to get a seat. Intrigued, I let her lead me through the crowd, her soft hand lightly holding mine.

She stopped outside the big accessible toilet, pressed the button, and as the door slid open, she pulled me in, pulled down the baby-changing table, locked the door and sat down on the toilet. "Genius," I said. "Two hundred managers on this train and none of them thought of the seats in here."

She blushed and said she actually needed the toilet, but I could stay if I wanted. I laughed and turned my back, and heard zips, fabric, then the trickle of her pee. "Everyone probably thinks we're having sex," she laughed. "Yeah," I said, trying to sound casual, as I felt my cock twitch.

"OK, you can turn round now," she giggled. "You've seen it all before, haven't you?" I turned to find her squatting over the toilet, knickers and skirt round her ankles, her smooth pussy on show. "Oh, for God's sake, there's no toilet paper," she said. I watched, transfixed, as she stepped out of her knickers, wiped herself with them, dropped them in the bin and pulled her skirt back up.

"Those were nice knickers, too," she said. "I don't mind, really. I like going commando." She walked over until she was inches from me. "It makes me feel so horny. Are you horny?" I stammered something, and she wrapped her hand round my stiff cock. "Then what's this?"

"Come on, I didn't invite you in just to sit down. Get your kit off: we've got fifteen minutes before my station." I didn't need telling twice. My trousers hit my ankles, and she turned round, pulled her skirt above her waist and bent over, bracing herself against the wall, dripping wet.

I wasted no time, fucking her hard and fast while she moaned, "Harder!" Then I turned her round, lifted her with a hand under each thigh and lowered her onto my cock, the rocking of the train adding to every thrust as I pinned her against the wall.

She came with a howl she tried to smother in my shoulder, her pussy gripping my cock so hard I thought it might snap, and soaking my legs. When we finally unlocked the door and stepped out, a couple of passengers gave us very knowing looks, and one grinned.

I never saw her again, but a few weeks later a colleague told me a story about two people having sex in the train toilet on his commute, and I knew it had to be her.

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