Signal failure. Two hours stuck between stations. The train was miserable—except for the girl in the next seat.
Scarlett was slim, pretty, with headphones in and a book she wasn't reading. We'd been exchanging glances for the past hour.
"This is bollocks," she finally said, pulling out her earbuds.
"Absolute bollocks."
"I'm going to miss my connection. My sister's wedding starts at four."
"That's rough."
"It's beyond rough." She looked at me. "I need a distraction. A proper one."
"What did you have in mind?"
She nodded toward the toilet. "Ever wanted to try something stupid on a train?"
The toilet was tiny—barely room for one, let alone two. But we made it work.
"Can't believe I'm doing this," she breathed, kissing me. "But if I'm going to be stuck, might as well be memorable."
She was slim, almost delicate, but with an urgency that made up for her size. Her dress came up easily, revealing legs that went on forever.
"Like what you see?"
"Love it."
I lifted her onto the tiny sink, dropped to my knees. She was wet already—adrenaline and boredom combining.
"Fuck—yes—"
She came fast, hand over her mouth, legs shaking in that cramped space.
"Inside me—quick—before someone notices—"
I freed myself, slid in. She was tight, hot, and wrapped her legs around me.
"Harder—don't care about the noise—"
We fucked in that train toilet, the announcements about delays mixing with her moans. She came twice more.
"Close—inside—"
I came deep, holding her against the mirror.
Someone knocked.
"Just a minute!" she shouted, already fixing her dress.
We emerged to suspicious looks from the queue. Neither of us cared.
"That was..." she started.
"Yeah."
"Give me your number. In case I need another distraction sometime."
The train started moving five minutes later. She made her wedding with minutes to spare.
Texted me from the reception.
Best signal failure of my life.