I boarded the train in the late afternoon. My ticket was for a reserved seat, but the conductor upgraded me to a free compartment for a small fee—I had an all-night journey ahead of me, and there just happened to be a rowdy group in the reserved seat. The compartment turned out to be for two, with lower berths. I threw my bag upstairs, stripped down to my T-shirt, and sat by the window. It was already getting dark outside, and the occasional lights of the station flickered. The woman entered just as the train was starting to move. At first, I didn't realize who it was. The face was familiar, yet alien—like when you remember someone as a young person and see them years later. She put down her suitcase, took off her coat, and only then looked at me carefully. “You?” she asked. I nodded. Her name was Lena. It was a dacha community, the late nineties. We lived two properties away. She was still in school then, wearing short shorts and tank tops without a bra, and I was already quite grown up and looked at her the way you look at the neighborhood girls who will soon be women. Nothing happened. Just glances and a few conversations by the fence, while she watered the garden beds and I smoked on the porch. She was now approaching forty. Her hair was shorter than it had been then, her figure was plumper, but still good—wide hips, breasts that noticeably strained her blouse. Wrinkles had appeared around her eyes, but her gaze remained the same—direct and slightly mocking. “I haven’t seen you for a long time,” she said, sitting down opposite. “Are you still there?” - Almost. Where are you going? — To my sister's. For three days. My husband is at home with the kids. We were silent for a moment. The conductor brought tea. Lena sipped, holding the glass in both hands and looking out the window. Then she turned to me. "You really embarrassed me back then," she said suddenly. "I remember that. I even told my husband about it after we were married." He laughed. - What did she tell you? "That the neighbor, who was much older than me, looked at me like he wanted to. And that I sometimes went out on purpose when you were smoking." I chuckled. She did too. The conversation eased. We reminisced about the village, where everyone was now, who had sold their plots, who had stayed. Lena spoke calmly, without coquetry, but also without excessive restraint. When the train swayed on a switch, her knee touched mine and didn't immediately move away. "Will there be anyone else in the compartment?" she asked. — The conductor said it was free. Lena nodded, finished her tea, and set the glass on the table. Then she stood up, latched the door, and pulled the curtain down. She left only the dim overhead light on. “I’ll go downstairs,” she said. “If you don’t mind.” I didn't object. She got out a sheet, spread it out, and lay down on her side, facing me. I sat opposite her and watched her get comfortable. Her shirt had ridden up a little, revealing a strip of her stomach. Lena caught my gaze and didn't look away. "It's too early to sleep," she said. "Tell me how you're living now. Just don't give me the official version." I told her. Without unnecessary details, but also without embellishment: work, divorced six years ago, apartment in the same city, occasional trips. Lena listened, resting her head on her hand. When I fell silent, she moved her leg and touched my knee again. This time she didn't remove it. "Were there many women after?" she asked. — It was enough. And you? — My husband. And another one, about three years ago. Not for long. My husband knows, I told him. That's just the way he is—he feels more at ease when I don't lie. She said it evenly, without challenge or justification. Then she sat down, swung her legs over the shelf, and leaned toward me. The distance between us became very small. I could smell her skin—warm, slightly sweet. “May I?” she asked, and without waiting for an answer, she placed her hand on my thigh. I nodded. Lena moved her hand higher, felt my already erect penis through the fabric, and squeezed. Not hard, but firmly. Then she unbuttoned my jeans and pulled it free. She examined it, ran her fingers along the shaft, and ran her thumb over the head. "Big dick," she said simply. "I was wondering what yours was like back then." She knelt between my legs. The compartment was narrow, and she had to press herself against my hips. She immediately locked lips, deep, without any preliminary kissing. Her tongue worked underneath, her lips sliding tightly. I placed my hand on the back of her head, not pressing, just holding. Lena sucked evenly and calmly, occasionally looking up. When I began to thrust forward, she removed her hand from the base and took me deeper, all the way to her throat. I came in her mouth. She didn't pull away, swallowed the cum, then ran her tongue over the head twice more, collecting the rest. She straightened up, wiped her lips with the back of her hand, and sat back down on her berth. "Now you," she said, lying on her back and spreading her legs. She had already lifted her skirt. Her panties were simple, cotton. I pulled them down, moved between her thighs, and pressed my mouth to her vagina. She was wildly wet. I licked slowly, from the entrance up to her clitoris, occasionally moving lower, to her anus, and back again. Lena breathed deeply, holding onto the edge of the shelf with one hand and stroking my hair with the other. When I took her clitoris in my lips and began sucking, she moaned softly and pressed me harder. She came quickly, squeezing my head with her thighs, then relaxed and let go. We lay in silence for several minutes. The train rattled on the joints. Lena rolled onto her side, facing me. “Do you want more?” she asked. - Yes. - Then close the door tighter. And you can turn off the light. I stood up, checked the latch, and turned off the overhead light. The only light left in the compartment was a dim nightlight above the door. Lena had already pulled off her top and bra and was lying naked on her back, one leg bent at the knee. Her breasts were heavy, her nipples dark and already hard. I undressed completely and lay down next to her. She turned to me, ran her hand over my chest and stomach, and took my penis in her hand again. It hadn't yet completely subsided. Lena moved closer, rubbed her wet vagina against my thigh, and quietly said: - Fuck me. I rolled her over onto her back, spread her legs, and entered her immediately. She was hot and very wet. Lena exhaled and wrapped her legs around my waist. I moved slowly, deeply, sometimes pulling out almost completely and then pushing in again. She didn't moan loudly—she just breathed faster and occasionally squeezed my cock inside. She stroked her back and buttocks with her hands, sometimes squeezing. As I sped up, Lena began to spurt me on. I felt her tense up and slowed down. She opened her eyes. - Don't stop. I want to finish like this. I continued in the same rhythm. Lena came after a couple of minutes—quietly, with a long exhale, squeezing me hard inside her several times. I stopped, let her catch her breath, but didn't pull out. “More?” she asked. - Yes. But I want it in the ass. She paused, then nodded. — No lube. Just saliva. And be careful. It's been a while. I pulled out of her, and she rolled over onto her stomach and knelt, resting her elbows on the pillow. Her buttocks were full, her anus small and dark. I spat on my fingers, lubricated the entrance and head, then carefully inserted my penis and began to press. Lena breathed deeply and evenly. At first, she resisted, then relaxed. The head entered. She let out a soft yelp but didn't pull away. “Wait,” she said. “Let him get used to it.” I stood motionless. After half a minute, she pulled back slightly. I went in deeper, halfway. Her anus was tight and hot. Lena exhaled and said: — Now you can. Just not too abruptly. I began to move in short thrusts. She adjusted, sometimes clenching, sometimes relaxing. When I was almost all the way in, she lowered her head onto the pillow and whispered: - Okay. Go on. I fucked her anus slowly and deeply. With one hand I held her hip, the other occasionally stroking her clitoris. Lena's breathing became more and more rapid. When I felt like I was about to cum, I told her so. "Cum inside," she replied. "I want to feel it." I sped up my final thrusts and came deep inside her ass. Lena moaned softly and clenched. I milked the last drops of cum and slowly pulled out. She remained lying on her stomach, her legs slightly spread, her anus slightly open and wet. We were silent for a few minutes. The train rattled steadily. Lena turned her head and looked at me. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s been a long time since this happened.” I lay down next to her. She moved her back to me, and I hugged her. It was completely dark outside. There were still a few hours left until morning.