He removed his other hand from my vagina and held me by my stomach. Perhaps a minute later I felt his erect penis nudging my butt cheeks. He rubbed the tip of his penis on my anus. Not even my husband had seen or touched my anus. We never had such dirty sex sessions. Next I felt his penis tip kiss my perineum. It soon traveled to my vaginal lips.

I closed my eyes and locked my jaws. I knew I would soon be engulfed in a pleasure bath whose wetness would remain with me even if the man doesn't meet me ever again. But I was trying my best to ignore the pleasure. His penis was inside my vagina now. I don't know about his size or if he was longer or shorter than my husband. He was definitely thicker than him. He stretched me unlike my husband. He inserted his penis in me slowly and my mouth kept opening up wide. When his manhood was well placed in me, my mouth closed. My eyes were still closed though. He started his thrusts which were slow and deep. I could sense his overall strength with those thrusts of his. It was shaking me from my head to toe.

His one hand held me by my waist and the other suddenly landed on my breasts. He started squeezing it over my top. Seconds later he brought his hand over my face and felt it. For the first time I looked into the mirror to see his whole palm feeling my face. He forced his middle finger in my mouth and I reflexively started sucking it. As he fucked me, I kept sucking his thick middle finger. As our eyes linked through the mirror I bit his finger. I have never done that before. My husband would have been surprised if he had seen me then. On second thoughts he would have been shocked to death if he would have seen me with this man.

In the otherwise silence that was prevalent in the loo I could hear the thrust-sounds now. I could guess his pelvis was hitting my upper thighs in a rhythm now. We maintained our eye contact via the mirror. What did he think about me? He doesn't know I am married. Or has he noticed the small red vermilion tick on my forehead. Its a tiny one but may be he has noticed it and knew he was fucking someone else's wife who came to him ridiculously easy. I hoped he didn't label me in his mind as a slut. I smiled at myself and wondered as if I cared if he did so.

My mind was too clogged to know how long it had been since we two were in the loo. I understood sometime must have passed when I realized it wasn't he but me who was milking his penis. His hip was still while I was moving my hip to and fro with my vaginal walls gripping his penis rather tightly.

He held my hips. I stopped. He pulled out and turned me. I surprised myself by placing my hands around his neck. My mouth was thirsty for a smooch. Our heads tilted and we smooched. The hunger with which I sucked his tongue was scary. I didn't know I could be that aggressive. I had never been so aggressive with my husband. The man sucked my tongue too. I don't really remember how he tasted but I remember he rolled his tongue all through my upper and lower gums and licked my teeth with his tongue tip. He certainly was doing what my husband never did. We smooched till my mouth literally started aching.

As the smooch broke we looked at each other for an instant. I don't know about him but I was definitely in a spell. I was confident the moment the spell broke I would realize, to my comfort, that every bit of it was a dream.

The man made me sit on the edge of the wash basin next and entered me again. This time I could sense his desperation as my one hand held him by his neck and the other was caressing his sweaty back. He was fucking faster this time. I had my eyes closed. I placed my other hand on his hips for better support and leaned towards his shoulder to rest my head as the fucking got intense. I could feel an orgasm building in me. My eyes were shut tight. When I couldn't take it anymore I bit his flesh around his shoulder. The faster he fucked me, the deeper I bit him. Finally he groaned and came in me. I came too. His body went still while my teeth released his flesh. Neither of us moved for sometime. I was trying to get my breath back. Probably the same was true for him too.

He released me. He pants were not really down. He stretched the elastic of his shorts and took in his penis. He wore his t-shirt and went out unlocking the loo in a way as if I never existed. I too climbed down the basin and tugged up my leggings. I flushed the torn panty down the toilet sink and washing my face, came out of the loo.

I saw the man smoking by the train's door. I didn't look at him. I moved in, climbed up to my berth and stretched myself. I could feel my hips aching. I don't know when I slept. It was 5 am in the morning when my eyes opened. I looked around but the man was not there. I looked down and his luggage was gone too. Probably he got down in between. I climbed down, careful not to wake up the rest, unzipped my bag and took out the plastic bag where I had kept all my undergarments. I went to the loo, wore a fresh panty and looked myself in the mirror. Whoever I saw there had to vanish because in two hours I was supposed to meet my husband at the station and carry on as if nothing had happened a night before in the dingy smelly loo of the train.