Fingers clasped the hem of her summer dress. A longing sigh traveled past the book she held in front of her.

Lit up like a moving tunnel through the late summer evening, the train carried us as I sat across the aisle from her.

My lips felt dry as I devoured her bare thighs through the reflection of the window. My eyes feasted as more of the dark strip of pubic hair peeked out from under her dress.

Brakes were applied as she rearranged her dress into place. Lowering her book, her eyes caught mine.
“Is this your stop too?”