The train conductor offered VIP services that included her pussy

The train compartment felt like a sauna, not from the steam, but from the heat emanating from her body. She walked in, her uniform pressed, blouse open just enough to glimpse the swell of her tits, skirt riding high on her thighs. Her eyes locked onto mine, and I knew she wasn’t here to check my ticket. She leaned in, her breath hot on my ear, “I heard you wanted a VIP service. I’m the conductor, and my pussy is the express lane.” Her fingers trailed down her blouse, popping open another button, revealing her hard nipples. She straddled me, her wet cunt grinding against my cock. She moaned, her head thrown back, “Feel that? That’s how wet I get for the passengers who know what they want.” She reached down, pulling out my cock, stroking it hard. She slid down, taking me into her mouth, her tongue swirling around my shaft. She looked up at me, her eyes watering, but she didn’t stop. She gagged, but she took me deeper, her throat constricting around my cock. She pulled back, gasping for air, a string of saliva connecting her mouth to my cock. She wiped her mouth, a smirk on her face, “Ready for the main event?” She flipped her skirt up, revealing her shaved pussy, glistening with her juices. She lowered herself onto my cock, her pussy swallowing me whole. She rode me, her tits bouncing, her moans filling the compartment. She leaned down, her tits pressing against my chest, her lips on my ear, “Fuck me harder,” she whispered. I grabbed her hips, slamming into her, her pussy gripping my cock like a vice. She screamed, her nails digging into my chest, her body convulsing as she came. She collapsed on top of me, her body slick with sweat, her breath ragged. She looked into my eyes, a satisfied smile on her face, “Welcome to the VIP service.”