The freight train rumbled out of the sunrise, bringing a smile to Libby's face at the open window. Closing her eyes, she let the vibrations penetrate her naked body while the cool Colorado morning breeze caressed her light brown skin, and she imagined herself riding the rails again. Just a few more hours, and she would be hidden in a boxcar heading in the opposite direction, roaming free again.

Sitting back in the wooden chair, she tugged absently at the ends of her hair—cut with a razor in an uneven short bob on the way to Denver a week earlier by another sister of the road—and looked over at the room’s other occupant. His snores inaudible over the train, Everett lay anchored in slumber by last night’s whiskey. Her gaze traveled from the white hairs on his chest to where the sheet had slipped off his cock, and she sniggered. So much for the “private dick” of this formerly proud employee of the Baldwin-Felts Detective Agency. All he had to show for his crimes was illegal liquor, this cheap hotel room, and flashing his morning wood at a homeless Mexican girl less than half his age. Pathetic.

And yet that curious mixture of hatred and lust started welling up inside her again, stirring up memories of his tenderness when they’d stepped through the door followed by the ferocious fucking when he understood her desires.

Prompted by those thoughts, her hand began tracing the map of the previous night, from bite marks ringing each nipple, over finger-imprints on both arms, to the grazes on her wrists from the handcuffs. Those last made her sneer and glance back at the sleeping form. After begging him to use them on her, only the threat of peeing on the bed had roused him from his post-orgasmic stupor enough to release her. Unconscious on her return, he hadn’t stirred when she’d secured him to the frame in her place. She should have done the deed then, but something stopped her.

Libby’s hand fell to her thigh as she turned away. More bite marks peppered her skin there. Remembering her squeals of pain whilst praying he wouldn’t stop, she parted her legs. Her fingers brushed through curls matted with dried come and explored the edges of her entrance already slick with arousal from those few moments of recollection.

She gripped her breast with her other hand, digging her fingers into her bruises hard enough to draw a gasp. Opening her legs wider and bracing one foot against the windowsill, she pushed two digits inside and curled them up for the slow withdrawal. Though still tender everywhere, she couldn’t resist squeezing her clit between wet fingers when they emerged, pressing down with her palm as she thrust them back inside.

As the noise of the train faded away, the wet slap of her hand on her flesh and accompanying moans became the only sounds in the room, until the clink of steel on brass caught her attention. Everett was awake, watching her. Meeting his eyes, she continued to fuck herself a while longer, licking her parted lips and tasting the mark his teeth had left even there.

"Good morning," he rasped, his voice even more gravelly than last night.

Maintaining eye contact, she brought her sticky fingers to her mouth and then stood, snatched up the handcuff keys, and closed the distance between them, swinging her hips. His stare consumed her young body with undisguised lust.

"I must say, this is the best hangover I ever woke up to, er, Lizzy."

Libby laughed and straddled his chest. "You don't even remember my name."

“Hey now, you gotta cut an old man some slack—I only met you last night, and I’d had a bit to drink.”

“Not true."

“What’s not?”

“That we only met last night. We met fourteen years ago.”

“Huh? You’d have been, what, four? Five?”

“Ten.” A glimpse of something dark broke through her sweet demeanor as she said that, and she sensed uncertainty in him. If he only knew—it should be fear.

"Well, now you're surely the prettiest whore I've set eyes on in a long time."

"I'm not really a whore." Amusement returned to her smile which encouraged him.

"Sure you are. You’re a tramp—the cheapest, filthiest kind of whore because you do it for free."

"Mmm." She planted a long kiss on his lips, inhaling the scent of stale alcohol. "You do know how to get me wet. It's almost like you mean it."

"Maybe I do."

"Maybe." She dangled the keys above his nose. "Though maybe you should bite your tongue when you're the one in handcuffs." His eyes followed the keys as they passed his head. With a look of mock surprise, she dropped them to the floor and giggled. "What a clumsy whore I am!"

She sat up again, and dug her nails into his pecs, making him hiss. When she dragged her wetness over his stomach, the tip of his dick poked her ass, and she could see from his poorly hidden smile that he was enjoying this switch in roles. No doubt he thought they would switch back later, poor fool.

"If I apologize, will you release me?" He squirmed as her nails dug in deeper. "No?" His voice went up an octave when she pinched both his nipples. "How- how about if I use my tongue another way?"

"Sí," she said, twisting his nipples with a grin and then releasing them. "Show me you're sorry."

Scooting forward, she planted a knee on either side of his head, ran her fingers through his thinning white hair, and then balled them into a fist as she lowered herself onto his face. Whiskers tickled her swollen lips, eliciting a sigh even before his tongue pushed through them. He lapped at her, and she grabbed the bedframe with her free hand, grinding her clit over his mouth from his chin to his nose and back. The handcuffs clinked below her when he reached for her butt, making her laugh at his frustration.

"Who's the whore now, Everett?" she asked, getting a rush from his look of submission peering up at her. She was totally in control, his tongue only able to glide through her slit while she used him, and she loved it. Looking over her shoulder, she caught sight of his throbbing cock, jerking up with every stroke of her cunt over his face, a thread of precum joining the tip to his stomach—too delicious to resist.

Everett's head lifted with her, straining to stay on her pussy as she moved back. A needy moan escaped his lips when she licked up her juices that glazed them.

"Feeling sorry now?" she purred, nibbling his ear.

"Very. Do you accept my apology?"

"I could," she replied, walking her fingers down his chest, dipping them in the sticky pool below his navel, and then circling his piss-slit. "Or maybe I could give you release before I release you. What do you think?"

His twitching erection answered before his nod. With a smirk, she cupped his balls and kissed her way down to his nipples, sucking on each in turn. Then she continued, moving around so that by the time her mouth reached the base of his cock, her pussy-lips glistened tantalizingly in the morning light above him.

Lowering her whole body, she smothered his moan as she took him into her mouth. Mixed with the fresh precum, she could taste the dried remnants of their combined fluids, both revolted and turned on by the texture. She drooled it out over her fingers at the base and licked his length clean. Behind her, he lapped eagerly at her hole and circled her clit whenever it was within reach. Once she had worked the head of his cock to the back of her throat, however, he abandoned all attempts at finesse, sucking and licking at anything that presented itself to him.

In turn, Libby sucked harder, shoving her crotch into his face. His unshaven chin grazed her at one end of her forward thrusts while his nose poked her star with every backward push, her buttocks enveloping his nostrils and forcing him to match his breathing to the rhythm of her increasingly enthusiastic humping. In vain, he tried to fuck her throat as he had done hours earlier, but she was having none of it, instead stroking his shaft while her tongue swirled around the head. Each time she brought him to the brink, she pulled away, absorbing his groans of frustration with her cunt.

As she neared her climax, she redoubled her efforts, pumping his shaft and sucking on the head. Sensing the change, he responded by sucking on her engorged clit. Her thighs began to tremble just as his balls tightened, so he fastened his teeth onto her flesh. His pulsing cock transformed her cry into a wet gurgle, and their bodies convulsed in unison.

Libby's haze faded but her lips remained sealed tight around his softening shaft. She withdrew slowly, bringing her fist with her to keep the load in her mouth from escaping. Beneath her, Everett gulped in a lungful of air as she dismounted. He grinned smugly when her face came into view above him, barely noticing her pursed lips.

"That was—" A mouthful of spit and his own spunk splattering onto his upper lips cut off his compliment, and it was her turn to grin.

"Fun?" she suggested, wiping the mess into his shocked mouth. Bringing her lips to his, she gave him one final, deep kiss before rolling off him. They both lay there, staring at the cracks in the ceiling.

"Wow, Lizzy," Everett finally broke the silence. "You should really become a whore. You'd make a killing."

She snorted at the irony of that and turned to him.

"Still don't remember?" Something in her expression filled him with dread. In the blink of an eye, she knelt up, brandishing his belt.

"Hey, I'm not ready to play again yet," he said as she wrapped it around his neck.

She ignored him and pulled it tighter, leather biting into his flesh. The fire in her eyes was the same she'd had when he found her in the street last night. He'd taken it for hatred and a challenge, which he'd been drunk enough to accept. In his bed, though, begging to be held down, he'd taken it for the reputation of insatiable desire drifter girls like her had. Too late, he knew should have trusted his gut.

“I was ten,” she said through gritted teeth, “when you and your pals pulled my mother and father from our tent in front of me and dragged them into the night. Do you remember their names?”

The belt was too tight for anything more than an incoherent croak to pass his lips.

“No? Did you even know? Did the mining company just tell you to ‘get the reds’? Well, let me tell you my name again.” Her breath tickled his ear. “Libby. Short for Libertad. It means liberty. My parents dreamed of building a world where everyone is free. Well, I decided to live that freedom now, not wait for tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. But when I find snakes like you are still alive... it poisons it. So I draw the poison out."

With a final yank, she cut off anything he had to say in reply, pushed the prong of the buckle through the extra hole she’d made while he slept, and rolled away to escape his kicks. Turning her back on him, she pulled on the overalls and boots she preferred for catching trains and rolled the tattered dress of yesterday in her blanket. His thrashing stopped as she walked around the bed.

Dropping her bundle out of the window, she followed it without a backward glance and headed towards the rail tracks with a spring in her step.