The woman that slipped in the first class compartment on the fast train to London, was typical of the type of well-heeled commuter the seven fifteen carried every morning. She was dressed in a crisp white blouse, black fitted jacket, and a straight black skirt that ended just above her stocking clad knees.

The eight-seater compartment already held two men sitting opposite each other in the window seats. Both industriously bent over their company laptops, and apart from a cursory look at her, returned to their tasks.

Had they taken the trouble to look at her more closely, they would have seen a woman in her thirties, quite slim with light makeup, and a generous cleavage that was showing through the gap in her blouse that had, maybe one button too many undone. Her belly was flat, and her legs, what could be seen of them, well-shaped.

All in all, there was something about her that seemed sexually exciting but elusive. After a brief nod to her two travelling companions, she settled herself in the forward facing seat nearest the door, took out her tablet and started to read. Although this train was the fast one, it would still be half an hour to the next stop, and reading, or working, was the norm in the first class compartment.

The train was just about to move off, went the compartment door slid open, and a man in his late thirties entered and sat in the seat opposite the women. She glanced up for a second to see he was in a well-cut suit, white shirt and red tie. The typical garb of someone working in the City, and not someone you would notice in a crowd apart from his rugged face and salt and pepper hair. He sat back and took out his phone and started to text out a message.

The woman felt the vibration in her pocket as her phone signalled an incoming text, taking it out she glanced at the screen. “Usual one now,” was all it said. Without glancing at any of the other people in the compartment, she got up and made her way along the corridor to the toilet, opened the door, let herself in and locked it.

Two minutes later there were three gentle knocks on the toilet door, followed by a pause and three more. Silently she slid open the lock. The suited man with the red tie let himself in and locked it behind him.

Without a word she turned her back to him and raised her skirt to the waist. Her long legs now fully exposed, she was wearing a garter belt that held up her sheer stockings, but the gap between her legs showed she was not clad in panties. The puffy, aroused lips of her cunt were clearly visible.

Without a word, the man unzipped his fly and pulled out a substantial length hard cock, which he stroked to full glory. He stood behind the woman and pressed it between her legs.

She leant forward on the washbasin and gripped the edges of it and waited. Her whole body shook as the hard flesh pushed further between her legs and buried itself deep inside her body.

For five frantic minutes, his cock slammed into her wet cunt as she enthusiastically rubbed her clit. Their climaxes came together. She felt the hot spunk shoot into her, and he felt her cunt muscles grip and milk his throbbing cock.

Without a word, he pulled his cock from her used cunt, pushed it back inside his trousers, zipped up and left the toilet.

When she returned to her seat a few minutes later, he was sitting where he had been before she left, studying his phone. He didn't glance up.

Five minutes later, the train slowed to a halt and the occupants of the compartment spilt out onto the platform. As the man and the just fucked woman left the station she took his arm, leaned towards him and whispered in his ear. “See you at home tonight. Your turn to cook.”