Eighteen-year-old Roman’s plan was simple but bold. He traveled alone by train. He thought that his street music with the guitar would be enough to feed him and provide him with a place to sleep. After the confines of his hometown, the boring classmates and the parents who would rather see him in a prestigious course of study, the world had never seemed so big and alive to him as it did now that he was exploring it on his own.
He was currently sitting in a small train compartment on the night train to Madrid. There was supposed to be room for six people here, but that required a good deal of optimism. At least it was cheaper and he saved the hostel for one day.
At first he was wonderfully alone in his little kingdom of worn upholstery and faded curtains. The smell of cold smoke hadn’t bothered him. Then this middle-aged, black-haired guy had heaved himself into the compartment and punished the whole world, and in Roman in particular, with his disapproving look. The boy with the leather jacket and messy hair seemed to fit perfectly into his general image of the enemy. He grumbled something in Spanish, causing the bench to shake as he sat down on it.
Roman forced a smile and pulled his guitar a little closer to him. Not that the fat man crushed his good piece with one careless movement. For knowing that his instrument was safe, he was happy to accept another grim look.
Shortly afterwards, his unshakable optimism and his trust in balance and justice were rewarded. In walked – no, rather floated – a beautiful young woman. She was medium height and a few years older than him. Black, curly hair framed her racy face with dark eyes and full lips. She wore tight jeans and an airy, light-colored blouse that went perfectly with her light brown skin and offered a sizable cleavage.
Roman’s gaze was magically drawn to it, so that he only realized she had spoken to him the second time.
“Are you sleeping?” she asked with a knowing smile that only made her more charming.
Caught, his cheeks glowed. He hurried to sit up and nod eagerly. “Yes. Yes, of course, please sit down.”
“Thank you,” she said. Her smile widened, revealing her white, even teeth. A whole swarm of butterflies were immediately stirred up in Roman’s stomach. He smiled shyly back.
The fat man had contributed nothing to the situation except for his wheezing. He stared unabashedly at the woman’s firm butt as she squeezed between the narrow seats and sat down opposite Roman. An anger at the chubby man boiled up in him, but disappeared immediately when the woman straightened her legs and accidentally touched him with her knee.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s very tight here. By the way, I’m Matilda.”
She held out her slender hand. Apparently she had decided that the big belly didn’t exist. But that should be fine with him. He hesitantly took the offered hand and was surprised by its firm grip. She held him for too long in this small moment, looking deeply into his eyes.
“Roman…” he answered, cursing himself for his uncertainty and the glow that crept into his cheeks again.
“I’m glad, Roman.” She sat back and relaxed and didn’t necessarily make his situation any easier. With her arms on the backrest, her considerable breasts literally jumped out at him. “You’re not from Spain, are you?”
“I come from Germany.” Matilda looked at him, smiling expectantly. “Are you from Barcelona?” he asked. Her presence seemed to significantly impair his conversational skills.
“No. I’m studying in Madrid and was visiting friends there over the weekend.”
“Wow,” he said. Damn, Roman, what’s wrong with you? You speak four languages and all you can think of is “Wow”?
Matilda didn’t seem to mind. She just giggled and moved her leg so that her knee brushed the inside of his thigh. Certainly pure coincidence, correct? Or did her eyes sparkle with amusement?
“What brings you from Germany to Spain? With a guitar too? Are you also studying? Or are you a musician?”
She finally gave Roman the right keyword. His enthusiasm for traveling and his music was powerful enough to overcome his shyness. He went into raptures and talked about how his adventure through half of Europe had brought him here. How he sat and played on the Seine within sight of the Eiffel Tower. Matilda was delighted by his story, beamed at him and thoughtfully wrapped a strand of her black hair around her finger.
They rocked each other up. She asked questions and reported when she had visited a place that Roman talked about. The narrowness of the compartment was forgotten; they spoke loudly and leaned forward.
In the rush of his reports, Roman barely noticed that Matilda was leaning on his knee and gently stroking him with gentle fingers.
Whatever it ultimately was, something about the young people’s dialogue became too much for the fat man. He cleared his throat loudly, crossed his arms and gave the two of them the darkest look he could manage. And boy was he dark. Even Matilda stopped mid-sentence and widened her eyes.
She quickly recovered herself and looked apologetically at the fat man. Then she winked conspiratorially at Roman and sat demurely and upright in her seat. “Later,” her look was supposed to say. But when was that?
Leaning his head against the musty curtain, his guitar in his arms, he had been sitting there for what felt like hours, trying to doze.
Neither the monotonous clatter of the tracks nor the fat man’s grunting snores helped him fall asleep.
He must have succeeded at some point, because from one moment to the next the train came to a standstill and the bright light of a train station flooded the compartment. Regardless of the losses, the fat man heaved his suitcase off the luggage rack and let it land with a crash on the floor. He muttered something that could have been both an insult and a farewell, pushed the compartment door open with a bang, and stalked away.
Matilda blinked sleepily, looking even more gorgeous. She stretched awkwardly and slid over her bench to the door to lock the compartment again. She even added a small latch that Roman hadn’t discovered before. He thought nothing of it and was relieved to be rid of the unfriendly fat guy.
“Alone at last,” she said with a grin and sat down again.
Roman nodded, yawned heartily and frantically covered his mouth with a hand. Half asleep, his manners left something to be desired, but Matilda just giggled. “Yes, finally,” he agreed and rubbed his eyes.
“Look. I got us something while you were sleeping,” she said, digging out four bottles of Spanish beer that she had hidden under her bench. She winked at him conspiratorially. “It awakens your spirits and makes you a little more relaxed, don’t you think?”
Roman shrugged, but happily accepted the offered bottle. He was thirsty and his throat was completely dry. And he was not averse to beers from different cultures, even if France had disappointed him in that regard.
They clinked glasses and he greedily drank almost the entire first bottle. From the corner of his eye he noticed Matilda watching him, smiling. She just took a small, deliberate sip.
“So, Roman…” – Oh man, every time she rolled the “R” in his name like that, a shiver ran down his spine. – “Now tell me why you are traveling all alone. Was there no one who wanted to accompany you? No little friend who is now sitting at home and waiting longingly for you?”
He shook his head. He certainly wouldn’t let his mood be spoiled by talking about Betty or even thinking about her. The chapter of his life was over. Thanks again, ex-best friend.
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend. I get to know the world and so many wonderful people. The baggage from my homeland is just holding me back.”
“Oh,” she said and took another sip from the beer bottle. There was something sensual about the way she put the bottle to her full lips, threw herself into profile and even closed her eyes. You could film them and cut them straight into an ad for the beer brand, people would buy it. And he would definitely be one of them. All that was missing was a drop of water that found its way down her neck between her magnificent breasts…
Matilda opened her eyes and smiled cheekily when she noticed where Roman was staring. He quickly picked up his own bottle and drank it in two long sips to cover his embarrassment.
“And aren’t you missing anything without a girlfriend?” she asked, ignoring his gaze. “Isn’t sometimes the best part of a trip, returning to the arms of loved ones? Knowing that someone is thinking of you? Consumed with thoughts of you?”
“The best thing about my trip is the great people I meet,” he answered with conviction.
Matilda grinned broadly at him. “So. Great people then. And don’t you sometimes miss the affection of a woman?”
He shrugged. “I’m young and away from home for the first time. The world is so big, I’m in no hurry. The right woman will come across me one day.”
She giggled and raised her eyebrows. “The right woman, yes? What is the right woman for you?”
“Well, the right one. You know, happily ever after, growing old together.”
“Oh. Oh, poor Roman.” That “R” again! Has it been this warm in the compartment the whole time? Or was it because of the alcohol? “How long do you want to wait for this woman? And what will happen to you until you find her?”
“What’s going to happen to me?” he asked after cooling himself down with another sip of beer from the second bottle. “I have my guitar and the whole world.”
Matilda put her bottle aside and leaned forward. She took his hands in hers, gently pulling him towards her so that the tips of their noses almost touched and he looked into her dark eyes. His heart beat faster as her scent of roses and spice filled his nose and her soft fingers stroked the backs of his hands.
“Some things the world can’t give you,” she whispered. Her voice sounded hoarse. “Just another person. What happens to your needs, your body’s desires, if you want to wait for the right one?”
Roman blinked. Did this really just happen here? Or was he asleep and would be woken up at any moment by a grunting fat man? What else could it be? Why would a beautiful young woman like Matilda want something from a guy like him?
“I…” he said, but Matilda interrupted him by placing a finger on his lips.
“Shh. I can see that you’re thinking. Don’t think so much. Just live.”
A thousand questions swirled through his head, a thousand thoughts, a thousand possible answers. But Matilda swept them all away. She placed her hand on his cheek and covered the last few centimeters. Closed her eyes and kissed him, right on his mouth.
His heart skipped a beat and his eyes opened wide in shock. Then he gave up, surrendered, and the whole world was the softest, most delicious lips he had ever felt.
A little awkwardly, he took her face in his hands, stroked her cheeks, and returned her kiss. She didn’t need to be asked for long, got up and climbed onto his lap without taking her lips from his. Her body radiated enormous heat, especially where she rested her thighs on his. Sitting firmly in the saddle, she opened her mouth and her tongue demanded entry, which he gladly granted her.
It tasted wild and exciting, like beer, like adventure. Her tongue, her whole body was demanding. She explored his mouth and pressed herself against him. Her breasts nestled against his torso and her privates rubbed against his cock.
It was only through the heat of her touch that Roman realized that he already had a huge erection in his jeans. He was startled, but any attempt to hide his excitement from her was futile. No matter how he twisted, she always landed on it. She must have felt it long ago, but she still rubbed against him, especially pressing the hot spot between her legs.
After an eternity – Roman fought against the growing excitement, otherwise her hip swings would have caused a misfortune in his pants long ago – she broke the kiss and grinned wildly at him. She put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him into his seat.
“You’re a naughty boy, Roman. Why didn’t you tell me you have a huge cock?”
“I…” he stammered, trailing off. What should he say about that? His breathing was rapid and he was convinced his head must be burning, he was so hot.
“I want to take a closer look at him,” she said and slipped off his lap. She was crouched in front of him, the other bench behind her. She knocked over a beer bottle with a clatter. She rolled across the floor of the compartment, but neither of them noticed her. Matilda reached for his waistband and deftly unbuttoned it. She skillfully pushed the underwear aside so that his magnificent cock jumped joyfully at her. She looked deep into his eyes and licked her lips sensually.
Roman was paralyzed, looking down at the beautiful woman, whose light brown fingers wrapped deliciously around his pale cock. What was she planning to do? But she didn’t really want to…?
Oh yes, she wanted to. He would never forget the moment when the soft lips touched his glans. His cock twitched, she giggled. It was only with difficulty that he maintained control, barely avoiding spraying his entire load all too soon on her beautiful face. What would his bright sperm look like on her exotic face?
He chased the thought away because he was twitching again and panting desperately. Matilda smiled knowingly, cautious and cautious. She kissed the tip, stroked the shaft and balls. Allowed him little breaks in which she looked at him.
Then he took another step toward paradise when she took him into her mouth for the first time. He sucked in a sharp breath, clawing at the worn upholstery with his fingers until his knuckles cracked.
“You taste so good,” she said quietly, giving him another much-needed break. She leaned back a little and unzipped her own pants, slipping a hand into her bright red panties. She was not clean-shaven, but had left a small strip of black hair. “This makes me so horny.”
She took him into her mouth again, licking his shaft and stroking him with her hand. He didn’t see it, but the movements of her arm left no doubt that she was pleasuring herself with her other hand. Roman didn’t know where to look. His cock disappearing deeper and deeper into her mouth? Her perky tits straining against her blouse? Or would you rather use the ceiling of the compartment to give his lust-driven mind a break?
Soon it no longer mattered. The grace period was over and Matilda sucked his cock regardless of his desperate moans. Roman squirmed in his seat, panting and whimpering, supporting himself with one hand and wiping her black mane uncoordinated with the other.
She took him in deeper, literally pushing herself onto his erection until her nose disappeared into his frizzy pubic hair. Her warm breath caressed his crotch and she moaned softly and muffled.
Roman was brave and excited far beyond the level he ever thought possible. He pushed back the explosion that was already rising several times at the last moment, but the fight was hopeless. Tingling sensations gripped his loins, gripped his cock, and his juices boiled up mercilessly within him. That was it, the point of no return.
“Matilda, I… I’m coming!” he gasped between his deep breaths.
But she just kept going! She rubbed herself faster, jerking his cock with new zeal, sucking it harder. Hadn’t she heard him? Anyway, it was too late now.
With a deep, guttural scream he came. All consideration for listeners was forgotten in this moment of senseless passion. Hot cum shot out of him, straight into her mouth. White, burning pleasure spread from his cock throughout his body, reaching his fingertips and bringing with it a warm, pleasant tingling sensation. He twitched and shifted back and forth, thrusting his pelvis towards her.
Matilda gasped, gave a sharp scream, muffled by his member, and rubbed her privates frantically. She took him as deep into her mouth as she could and swallowed what he shot down her throat.
It didn’t seem to want to end. His cock pumped and pumped, even when he stopped coming. She continued sucking it, soaking up every little drop, until she let out a gasp and just sat there for a moment. The image of Matilda squatting, with her smeared mouth, shiny labia, and cute hairstyle adorning her pussy, was forever burned into Roman’s lust-addled mind.
Only a short time later the train reached its destination. Roman and Matilda quickly straightened themselves out, but thanks to their greedy lips there was no big mess to clean up.
They didn’t say a word as everyone gathered their things and prepared to get out.
Roman tossed around hundreds of things in his head that he wanted to say, from a cool saying to a declaration of love, but none of them seemed appropriate to the feelings that the wild Matilda had inspired in him. If there had been one, right moment, it passed unused.
So the first words he said to her after she had given him the best orgasm of his life so far were the embarrassed question of whether he should carry her suitcase for her.
Matilda accepted the offer with a mysterious smile. On the platform, bathed in the warm, orange light of the new day, he gave her the suitcase back. With the guitar on his back, his own bag at his side, the moment had come to say goodbye.
She smiled sheepishly, stood on her tiptoes and blew a kiss to his lips. “Farewell, Roman,” she said quietly.
Then it came over him. He grabbed her hips, pulled her tightly against him and kissed her as passionately as they had kissed before. He tasted his own cum, but it didn’t bother him for a second. “Farewell, Matilda,” he whispered as the kiss ended after an all-too-short eternity.
She took his hand and pressed a small piece of paper between his fingers. Her eyes shone. Then she turned around, picked up her suitcase and walked away. Roman watched her go up a flight of stairs and disappear from his sight. She didn’t even look around.
With shaking fingers he unfolded the piece of paper. There was an address written on it in curved script. His heart skipped a beat and his sadness turned into a swarm of butterflies. Only fate knows the answer to whether the two lovebirds ever saw each other again…
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