I had just turned 21 and spent a week with my cousins. They had driven me the 300 miles to their house, but when it was time to go home, I decided to book a ride on the train.

I had ridden the train a few times with my family as a kid, and I was looking forward to having time to read and rest and gaze out the window with a pensive look.

I ended up doing less of those things than I anticipated.

I boarded as the sun was setting and proceeded through the cars to my seat. I passed a few reading or napping passengers, but most of the seats were empty. There was no one really interesting to look at, until I passed row 317.

He was tall, even in the seat, and his striking blue eyes looked out through wireframed glasses, the kind that writers in the 1800s would call “spectacles.” His lips were full and plump and pink, poking out from the thick coverage of his black and brown beard. I could tell the hair was hiding sharp, handsome cheekbones, which I suddenly dreamed about running my fingertips along.

The train began moving, and I was thrown off-balance. The movement must have caught his eye, because he looked up at me. We met eyes, and my stomach dropped as I realized he was in the seat directly in front of mine. I held my breath as I slid into the row, the coconut scent of his hair permeating the area. There was no one in the rows ahead or behind. No one across the aisle. The car was mostly empty. Except for the smell of him, which was suddenly taking over everything.

Trying not to draw too much attention, I settled my purse under the seat next to me and my small backpack under the seat at my feet. I heard the seat ahead of me creak, and when I sat back to straighten myself, he was there. My breath caught in my throat and my heartbeat started to throb in my pussy.

He had slid into the aisle seat, blocking me from escaping his overpowering scent. Like a summer breeze. I tried not to look up, but when I did, I became hypnotized by his eyes. Like a bird caught in a snake’s gaze. Just what I was afraid of.

“Hi. Can I sit with you? This ride has been so long and boring.” He smiled wide, and I felt the last of my control give way and my panties soak through.

“Of course.” I smiled back and tilted my head so my hair draped over my ear and cascaded down my shoulder. “I'd love some company.” My voice sounded husky in my ears.  

“My name is –" he started, but I raised my hand to cut him off. 

“Why don't we skip the names? Give a fake one. It’ll be our little secret.”

His eyes sparkled, and he finished, "Thor."

I burst out laughing, and he joined me.

“I’ve always wanted to meet a god with a mighty hammer.” I winked. “So pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“And you are?” He took my hand from where it lay on the arm rest and raised it to his lips. His touch was warm and soft, and I breathed deep as my nipples tightened.

“Hera.” He kissed my hand and laughed against the skin.

“Yes, of course. The queen of the gods.” His facial hair tickled my hand, and I imagined what it would feel like as he kissed down my chest to those tight nipples.

“So, how did you end up on this train, your majesty?” His eyes lit up when he spoke, and I found words tumbling from my lips, like I’d been struck by a truth spell.

I told him about how I'd been visiting cousins, although I changed the city I was in and their names. I told him about a theme park I visited, which was true, and about skinny dipping at the beach, which I may have exaggerated. But I was glad I did when I noticed his pants visibly twitch as I detailed the cold water against my naked skin. By the time I was done, he had to visibly adjust his bulge under his pants.

I licked my lips.

“Well, what about you -- O God of thunder and lightning -- how did you end up next to me, listening to this boring tale?”

He gulped and cleared his throat, deciding his next move.

“Do you smoke?” His tone was dark and thick. “Could I tell you over a cigarette?”

“Sure.” I smiled.

He rose and stepped into the aisle, standing to the side, waiting. I rose and squeezed out, then stepped in front of him into the aisle. I heard lip smacking and an "mm-mm-mm" when he lowered his eyes to my ass.

Three "mmms."? Hmm. Not bad.

I led us to the smoking car, which was two cars past the dining room. When I turned to look at him again, he was smiling wide. He had pulled two slender cigarettes from his jacket pocket and stood with them spread between his fingers.

The car tasted like an ashtray smelled. Overpowering the second you entered but faded within a few minutes. The train was moving steadily, and the motion was pleasant.

“Have you ever had a Gauloises?” I didn’t know the French-sounding word, but I assumed it was the brand name for the cigarette. I tried to look as cool as I suddenly felt and shrugged.

“I'll try anything once.”

“Atta girl.” He laughed, and I blushed.

Did I really say that?

“Well, your majesty. You asked what I'm doing here, and I owe you a story.” He walked past me, lit his cigarette dramatically, and paused. I leaned forward so he could light mine. Then, I stepped left to take the closest seat. We were the only ones in the car.

The heavy-flow air vents meant to keep the smell to a minimum pumped at full volume in the foreground. I found my chest heaving, as I stared at his chiseled face and looked his body up and down in anticipation. I licked my lips once and had to stop myself from doing it a second time.

I looked down at the cigarette, then took a full drag with my eyes closed, before finding the courage to look at his face again

He saw my greedy look.

“Well,” he began, “it's embarrassing but…” he ashed his cigarette and took a drag, looking pained. “I went home early from work, today. Saw my wife in bed with another man. Neither of them saw me. They were very, uh, focused. " He said the word like it took him a moment to remember it, like it tasted bad.

My face softened, and I took another drag, hanging on his every word.

“Since they didn't see me, I left.” He shrugged. “I live about a mile from the train station. Took me half an hour to walk there. Maybe. I –" he looked in the eyes with deadly seriousness – “I didn't go straight there. Sort of wandered. I didn't mean to run, but when I saw the train station, I thought, why not hop the next one and go?”

“Wow,” I said finally, to fill the silence that followed. We both dragged on our French cigarettes; they were harsh and had an aftertaste I couldn't identify.

Stale, maybe. Leftovers from a trip to Paris a few weeks ago or something.

“Well, I would say I'm sorry, but that's a lie.” I spoke as bravely as I could. “I think maybe someday, you'll look back and won't be sorry either.”

“Maybe.” His eyes drifted from me to the cold buzzing overhead lights, and he sat for a minute with his head back. I noticed how tight his shirt pulled across his upper body and wondered what those muscles felt like.

When he looked back at me, I finished the drag I was taking early and spoke with smoke curling between my lips. “Well. Want to get hammered?”

His posture loosened, and he said, “Yes. Very much so.”

We went back to the dining car and sat at the narrow bar. I proceeded to feed Thor shot after shot of whiskey, chased with a few Cokes here and there. To cushion the ache in his heart. We were some of the few people at the bar, and we laughed a lot. I drank too, although I did not keep up his pace and cut myself off after three. At least half of what I said to him was exaggerated or a lie, but I knew he wouldn't remember enough of the night to tell anyone about me tomorrow anyhow.

Thor broke down and told me his real name and all about his life, but I've got no memory for those details. None of the words he said at that bar counted in the real world. Except all the times he told me how sexy I was. I remember those.

When I peeled him from the bar, we stumbled back to the smoking car. It was late by then, and all the passengers we passed were asleep, some snoring. I had to keep Thor quiet while not laughing too hard at the awkward beauty of strangers sleeping with each other in public.

In the smoking car, the lights had timed out for the night. Although, I'm sure there was a switch somewhere, and we could have turned them back on. But we never made it that far.

As soon as the door slid shut behind us, he spun me and pressed his mouth to mine. He tasted like whiskey, and his hair scratched my chin. I pressed back into him to take what I'd been waiting on all night.

In moments, he stripped of his jacket and shirt, stepping back to undo his belt.

“Wait wait wait. Are you that impatient?”

“I've been wanting you for hours, queen. All my life.”

“Now, now. You just met me.”

“I never knew how much I needed you until I did.”

“You're just drunk.”

“And horny as fuck.” He laughed, and his abs rippled in the dim moonlight.

“I can fix that for you.”

“I bet you can.” He grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in for another wet kiss. His hand was under my shirt, on my breast, reaching around the outline of my bra to the skin below the thin fabric.

“I will. But you have to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“Don't remember me tomorrow.”

“Of course I'll remember you, queen of the gods.”

“No.” I dropped my voice to a seductive purr. “Remember this but not me.”

I stepped forward and undid the buckle on his belt as he stroked his hands along my back, kissing my neck. His lips were so juicy, and in any other circumstance, I would have begged him to let me sit on his face, to wrap those lips around my clit. But this poor guy had a rough day, and he deserved a little unexpected joie de vivre. 

Thor swayed slightly as I slid his pants down his thick legs. As I expected, they were as muscular as his upper body, begging me to run my nails along them. I slid his boxers and pants down at once, and his dick sprang forward with all the excitement of racehorses released from the starting line.

I wrapped my hand around his thickness. The train swayed as I lowered to my knees. His moans filled the air where there had only been the humming of the fan before.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he repeated as I pulled his dick toward my mouth, licking my lips in anticipation.

I pulled in half his shaft in the first swallow, coating as much of the underside of his cock with my tongue as I could. Then, I popped him out and swirled my tongue around the whole thing.Getting it soaked on all sides.

“Oh fuck,” he cried out as I pulled him into my mouth, working the head with my tongue and lips. “Oh, fuck, that's like heaven.” He grabbed the back of my head.

Now, I love sucking dick on my knees. It's the best position to work up and down the shaft. The best position to control the angle and speed. The best position to make him cum or stop him from cumming. If I have a cushion or my knees and shins can take it, I can turn any man into putty with the tricks I can do from my knees.

So, I worked that cock for a minute, playing my favorite game. The game I call, how much nasty shit can I get him to say before he cums?

And I won that game. He told me everything. All the things he wanted to do to me, the gifts he would give, the promises he would make. All the ways he would pay me back for gulping his dick like I would a milkshake. He would give me so much, if I only believed him.

After a few minutes, I pulled away, stroked his dick with my hand. He had leaned back and was clinging to a seat for dear life, so I gently pushed him back. He sank like the seat was the softest feather bed. As soon as his dick was at eye level again, I pounced on it.

About three minutes later, I was alternating between flicking the tip of his head with the tip of my tongue and swallowing him to the hilt. He grabbed the back of my head and violently shoved it down, pushing my throat open for his whole swollen cock.

He yelled out a woman's name, which I could only assume was his wife’s -- three, four times -- while he pumped his throbbing dick into my throat, cutting off my air. Then he yelled, “Take that, you bitch." His breath caught as the word drug into a scream, and he pumped hot cum down my throat. He throbbed against my tongue, and I pressed it against his dick to work out the last of his spasms.

When his muscles lost their tension, he let go of my hair, and I felt his dick soften. I slowly lowered my mouth off his cock and breathed in through my nose as soon as I could.

By the time I pulled his dick out and sat up to look at him, vaguely wiping my chin, he was passed out. Snoring. His head cocked to one side, like so many of the other passengers I’d seen before. I chucked at the sight of his adorable yet slightly sad face, which I could barely see in the late-night light.

I covered Thor with his shirt and jacket as best I could and pulled his pants up over his thighs. I couldn't lift him to put them on all the way, but I figured he wouldn't mind too much. He’d forgive me.

I went back to my seat, pussy throbbing and quietly giggling. I collected my things and discreetly moved to a car farther toward the front of the train. I quietly hummed to myself until the next stop. When the train slowed, I rose and grabbed my bags, glancing around at the dozen or so sleeping passengers on this train. No one saw me as I walked off and lowered myself to the platform. Smiling, I walked toward the payphones at the station office without a glance back as the sleepy train departed.