Chapter 85: Thick Asian MILF on Train

Wow. Her husband was a stupid piece of shit—wife this hot, and he thought anything without her was better? Even the home kitchen would be the most interesting place on earth with her in it.

I started fucking her harder now—deep, steady thrusts, making her boobs shake wild under me, nipples hard and begging.

Her face twisted in the satisfaction she’d been craving for days—eyes rolling back, mouth open in constant moans, body finally getting what it needed.

She rubbed her clit faster—pussy clenching tighter around me with every slam.

"Yes... Alex... harder... fuck me..." she begged.

I kept fucking her harder—seeing her lust face twist, eyes rolling back, mouth open in constant moans, body finally getting what it needed after days of craving. The sight made me lose control—thrusts turning savage, hips slamming deep.

Soon she came—trembling hard, all that pent-up stimulation and missing my dick making her weak. She shattered—"Aaahhh... Alex... ahh!"—going limp, crying out in pleasure, pussy gushing around me as she collapsed against the cushions.

I wasn’t done yet—kept pushing harder, chasing my own edge—but then a knock came sharp on our roomette door.

"Dinner, sir."

We both froze—me balls-deep inside Lily, her pussy still spasming in orgasm.

"Oh—it’s the dinner we booked with the tickets," she gasped, voice shaky, my cock twitching inside her.

"I’ll be there in a sec," I called out, rough.

I pulled out slow—my dick still throbbing hard, denied climax, slick with Lily’s juices and my precum. The interruption hit like a brick.

I threw on my shirt quick, just peeking upper body out the door to grab the dinner tray from the attendant. "Thanks," I muttered.

The guy nodded and moved on, delivering next.

Damn—we were interrupted hard. I almost thought it was Tiffany or Autumn sneaking over for fun.

The moment was gone. Lily lay there satisfied—legs limp, pussy leaking my load down her thighs, face glowing with that post-orgasm bliss—but my dick ached with pent-up lust, balls heavy and frustrated.

"Let’s continue after dinner," I said low, looking at her flushed body.

She nodded breathy, smiling weak. We both put clothes back on—quick, casual—to eat.

But then nature called bad.

"I’ll be back soon, Lily," I said. "Start dinner without me."

I slipped out, heading down the corridor—past roomettes with dim lights, some muffled voices, to the normal seating compartment and the nearest toilet.

It was in use. I leaned against the wall, waiting.

After a few minutes, the door opened.

Lan—the thick Asian wife—stepped out.

She froze, blushing deep as she saw me. Her tight gray dress hugged her curves wild—boobs straining, hips flared, ass plump and round. Even in the dim train light, she looked breedable.

Her eyes dropped fast—to my cargo pants. My dick was bulging hard, obvious from not getting relief after the interruption. The outline thick, straining, head flaring.

She stared—lips parting, trying to make out the size in the shadows. I’m pretty sure she’d never seen anything like it—not from her skinny husband anyway.

I adjusted my pants casual—but it only made the bulge bigger, dick shifting free inside, tenting more.

Shit, I thought.

But Lan was impressed—nipples hardening instant through the thin dress, poking sharp, thighs pressing together as she glanced down again.

Damn, her curves were wild—tits full, waist dipping in, ass begging to be grabbed right there.

I thought about it—pinning her quick, feeling that thickness—but then—

"Hey, Alex—what are you doing?" Brittany called from down the corridor, heading our way for the toilet too.

Lan snapped straight—adjusted her dress fast, blushing harder—and hurried back to her roomette, glancing back once at my bulge like she couldn’t get the full view out of her head.

Brittany reached me—eyes dropping straight to the obvious bulge in my cargo pants, that naughty grin spreading slow.

"I was waiting for the toilet to get empty," I said casual, leaning against the wall.

She laughed soft—teasing, knowing. "Wow... you really need to relieve yourself, Alex," she whispered, biting her lip as she eyed the thick outline.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, smirking. "I’ll be quick."

She glanced around—corridor quiet but people could pass any second—so she didn’t push to join, just brushed my arm deliberate as I slipped inside.

Door clicked shut.

While I was pissing—slow because I was still half-hard—that thick Asian wife, Lan, flooded my mind. Damn, her curves were juicy—short but stacked, tits straining that dress, ass thick and round, thighs rubbing together when she walked. The way she did innocent things—blushing, glancing shy—made her even hotter, like she had no idea how bad she turned heads.

Or maybe she did.

I finished slow, but my dick wouldn’t soften—thoughts of breeding her deep, stretching that tight body, making her moan in broken English—had me stroking absent, leaning against the wall.

Lost in it—imagining her on all fours, dress hiked up, taking me while her clueless husband slept nearby.

Then—knock knock.

"Hey—I need the toilet too," Brittany called soft but urgent.

I hurried—tucked away, zipped up—and stepped out.

She slipped past quick, but grabbed my wrist. "Wait here till I come out? I have to tell you something."

I leaned against the wall outside. "Sure."

Why not wait a little?

The train rocked gentle—corridor dim, distant voices.

Brittany wouldn’t take long.

And whatever she had to say?

Probably filthy.

I was ready.

Then soon she came out—drying her hands on a handkerchief, glancing down at my bulge that still needed relief, eyes lingering a second too long with that naughty smile.

"Come with me, Alex," she said low, voice teasing, grabbing my hand.

I followed her—no questions, pulse kicking up.

We reached her roomette quick—she opened the door soft, we slipped inside, and she clicked it shut behind us, locking it careful so no one in the corridor caught us.

Inside—damn.

Gloria was there, lounging on the lower bunk in tiny nightwear that made my cock throb harder instantly.

That smoky Colombian body—thick in all the right places—was barely covered: a thin-strapped little top, smooth and clingy, ending high to show her tight lower stomach, hint of possible abs under golden skin.

And below—just a smooth, high-cut panty hugging her breedable hips and tight ass, fabric thin enough to outline everything.