Accident in the train

It was a warm morning in June, when Peter Morris entered the train. He got an invitation to the birthday of his cousin whom he hadn’t seen since he started to study architecture two years ago. He had present and the note with the direction in his backpack, a book under his arm and a ride of about three hours ahead of him. The ticked was already booked. He had a seat in a train compartment with two double seats facing each other. Nobody else was there, despite the train being pretty full.

Slowly the train started to move and Peter began reading. He barely noticed the train arrived at the next station. He even got a little shock when the door to the compartment suddenly opened. A woman entered. A woman with black hair that had pink and green strands in it. She wore black boots, black lip-gloss and a black, demolished jeans. Her tank top was also black but with a pink skull printed on. Whoever this punk-woman was, she seemed to be not very happy to see Peter. She gave him a skeptical look and checked her ticked to be sure she is in the right place. Peter decided to break the ice and offer his help with her luggage.

“Hi, I’m Peter,” Peter introduced himself and offered the woman his hand.

However, the woman stared at him and his hands as if she would try to cause physical pain to him just with her looks. The moment of silence was long and uncomfy.

“Carol,” the woman answered finally but as uninterested and degrading as possible.

“Nice to meet you,” Peter tired again even if he was a little bit intimidated, “I would like to offer my help with …,”

“Stop talking!” Carol interrupted Peter, “listen, I am sure you are probably a nice guy an all of this bullshit, but I have remarkably less interest in talking to you. So shut up and let me listen to my music, as long as you don’t urgently need anything. Disturb me and I hit you. Annoy me and I hit you in a place where it really hurts guys like you. Understood?”

Peter nodded shy. He was usually good in talking with woman, but this punk-like sort of woman scared him. He would froze in front of them or make a fool of himself. So he just decided to keep quiet and focus on his book while Carol sat down across to him, put some earplugs in her ears and started to listen to some music.

This situation was constant for about an hour. Carol even seemed to fall asleep on the bench. Peter thought about waking her when the train arrives at the next station, in case it was her stop. But this decision was taken from him, when the door to the compartment suddenly opened again. This time a young woman in the uniform of the train company entered. She pulled a small carriage with things to eat and drink.

“Greetings,” the saleswoman said happy and showed Peter her inventory, “sweets, drinks or maybe something warm to eat?”

“Hi, I would like a soda, please,” Peter said friendly and handed the woman a few bucks.

“And for your cute girlfriend?” asked the saleswoman and grinned a little, “something sweet and colorful for later?”

Peter wanted to correct the young woman, but Carol seemed to be in fact awake and instead of an answer, she showed the employee her middle finger.

“Oh … I … my mistake, miss,” the employee mumbled embarrassed and hurried to get away.

Peter staid calm and opened the soda can while Carol closeed her eyes again. The soda eas fresh out of the fridge and very cold. Peter tried to hold it at the border, even if it was less secure. And this proved to be a huge mistake, because about five minutes later, the train suddenly made a heavy break. The soda can flew out of his hand and collided with Carol. The whole, cold soda splashed over her upper body. She squeaked in shock. Peter was also shocked and tried to raise his hands calming, but it was too late. The very angry punk jumped at him, grabbed him by the neck with one hand and with one between the legs. She immediately balled her fist around Peter's private parts and he had to suppress a scream of pain.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Carol asked angry and tightens the grip around Peter’s balls, “is this supposed to be some kind of fucking payback? You are dead, asshole. You will not leave this train alive.”

“No, please, I am sorry,” Peter begged in pain and tried to loosen Carol’s grip, “It was just an accident, the train suddenly stopped and … please let go of my balls!”

“No, and don’t give me fucking orders,” Carol shouted back, “my shirt is full of your cold, sticky coke. That’s disgusting.”

“Actually it is a soda ...” Peter tried to explain carefully, but this was a huge mistake.

“Don’t dare to correct me,” Carol hissed dangerously and her grip got more tight and painful with every word, “now listen, idiot. I have nothing to change. And I am not going to sit here in front of you with my tits exposed. Move your ass to the restroom! You will help me get this stuff off me!”

“Yes, sure,” Peter agreed close to tears, “I will do whatever you say.”

“Wait a moment,” Carol suddenly said and sounded confused before pulling her hand away from Peter's crotch, “are you seriously getting hard when I squeeze your nuts? You pig.”

“I … it is just …,” Peter began embarrassed but was immediately silenced by a slap across the cheeks.

“Move, before I forget my reason to spare your pathetic live!” Carol yelled and points to the door.

Peter hurried to get out of the compartment. It seemed some other passengers have been surprised by the sudden stop too. There were several people rubbing sore spots or picking up fallen luggage. Carol lead Peter straight to a restroom nearby. It was unoccupied. Carol closed the door and locked it as soon as both were inside. Peter was just about to ask how he can help, but Carol already threw her tank top in his face.

“Get a drying towel from over there, make it wet and start cleaning my top!” Carol commanded at least a little calmer than before, “I take care of my chest. Turn around one time and your bloodline ends with you.”

Peter nodded and started to clean the tank top. Honestly, the threats still scared him a little, but not as much as before. The soda had not dried and it went quiet well. Within ten minutes, the tank top was wet but clean. Peter turned around to give it back to Carol. However, when he turned around, he watched Carol cleaning herself with one hand, but the other hand was between her legs, slowly massaging her private parts. Carol had not noticed him yet and immediately shrieked in shock when she does.

“Hey, are you deaf?” Carol asked angry, “how dare you are looking at me while I am basically naked from the belt upwards? Do you want to get castrated? Is this some sick fetish of you?”

“No, no, I am sorry,” Peter replied quickly, and hold the top in front of Carol, “I … I just wanted to give you back your top. I had no idea you are … busy.”

“I don’t fucking care, it is wet like a lake,” Carol replied but blushed so heavy that Peter couldn’t take her anger serious anymore, “how do you think I should wear this? In a swimming pool?”

“I … I guess I better leave you alone now,” Peter offered and reached for the doorknob, “sorry Carol. I didn’t meant to embarrass you.”

“Wait … don’t leave, I … I think there is … there is something else I want you to do for me,” Carol mumbled and turned her blushing face to the ground, “I mean … if it is alright for you.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked unsure, “what do you want me to do for you?”

“Really?” Carol asked confused, “do I have to spell it? Alright, then I tell it in a way even you should understand. Either you come over here and lick me immediately, or I come over to you and beat you up.”

Peter was a little overwhelmed by Carols boldness. He had girlfriends in the past and a few of them were dominant too, but none of them ever told a stranger that directly that he should lick her. But on the other hand, Peter had a thing for woman like Carol and was not against getting closer to her. Even if it his way of building relationships was normally much slower.

Peter came closer and went to his knees. Carol gave him a sign to take off his shirt and did the same with her pants and panties. Peter got a first view on the smooth, shaven pussy of the punk woman. There even was a tattoo that looked like a rose. At first Peter wanted to star slowly and gently like he normally did with his girlfriends during oral sex. Carol however was neither patient nor interested in giving a guy any chance to take lead during sex. She just took his head with both hands and **** his face as deep in her pussy as possible.

Peter fought a moment against the both sweet and musky scent, but soon he obediently started to drive his tongue deep in Carols clit. And according to Carol's moaning and purring she seems pleased with his service. Carol kept holding him with one hand and reached with the other hand to his groin. For a moment Peter thought she would squeeze his balls again to get more horney. But instead, she very skillfully unbuttoned his pants and began to massage his cock. She jerked him, he licked her and both were moaning. None of them cared about any other passenger might hear them.

Peter couldn't see it, but Carol was quickly fighting to reach climax. Her last relationship ended some time ago and her ex-boyfriends all considered it a sign of weakness to come quickly. So she bit her lips and used all her mental strength to avoid reaching climax as long as possible. But it was fruitless. After a few minutes of fighting, Carol had to suppress a little scream when she covered Peter's face in her hot juices.

But to her luck, her fighting was enough to get Peter close to orgasm as well. He was already heavy breathing and started to shiver suddenly. Carol noticed this and pulled him by the cock closer to the toilet, so he was able to shoot his load in there. Peter sat down at the floor an breathed exhausting. Carol handed him some wet paper towels, but despite her acting, she was exhausted too.

“That was something,” Peter mumbled out of breath and wiped his face with a paper towel, “I am glad I met you. And I hope I could please you as well.”

“It was nice, I admit that,” said Carol and showed a small, pleased smile, “but don't think too much into it. This means not that I am now your girlfriend or such shit. We will ...”

Suddenly there was an announcement. The train driver informed the passengers that they had arrived at the next station. And Carol suddenly got nervous.

“That's my stop,” she said in hurry and took some pieces of clothing from the ground, “shit I … I need to go. Now.”

Peter was still to overwhelmed to react and just tried to not stand in her way when she ran half dresses out of the restroom. Quickly he got dressed too and tried to follow her, but he noticed that Carol accidentally took his shirt and left her tank top on the ground. Peter headed back to the seats to give it back to her. But when he arrived, Carol and her luggage were gone and the train started moving again.

Peter sighed. It seemed he missed Carol. This was sad, because he really enjoyed her tough and bossy attitude for some reason. A sudden buzz from his phone pulled him out of his thoughts. At first he assumed a message from his cousin, but it turned out he got a picture from an unknown number. And to Peter’s surprise, the picture was from Carol. She must have copied his number somehow while he was distracted. She wore the t-shirt of Peter and pointed at it. A second message right below said: >My trophy. Hope you enjoy yours too.<