The woman sitting next to me might easily have been a model: mid twenties, blond hair bobbed short, narrow hips, slender figure and the dress she was wearing must have easily cost seven hundred quid.

It was obvious something was wrong. Every few minutes she took an iPhone out of her Louis Vuitton handbag and looked at it with a fixed angry glare. Then she pulled out her purse, extracted a piece of paper, a photograph from it and methodically tore it into pieces.

"Is something wrong?", I asked.

"Yes, these bloody windows don't open," she replied, hitting the window with her fist.

She was on the verge of tears, I moved across the aisle and put an arm round her. She buried her head in my chest and pounded the table with her fist.

"Oww," the last blow had missed the table and hit my leg.

"Oh, I am so very sorry," she replied, "don't mind me, I am just being silly."

"No problem."

"I could burn them but this is a non-smoking carriage," she started to laugh, hugging me closer.

"Fifty quid fine either way," I pointed out.

"Know what I would like to do right now?"

This seemed most likely to involve sharp objects and stabbing but I didn't want to break the mood so I just shook my head.

"Fuck."

I had no doubt she was serious, she had looked me straight in the eye and pronounced the word slowly and distinctly. My mind was racing but I forced myself to think about logistics. I had the condom I always carry, we were at most twenty minutes from my destination but there was a local stop five minutes earlier.

The carriage was almost empty but too full to risk fucking there. I nodded in the direction of the lavatory, "Right now?"

The cubicle was barely big enough for the two of us and had the stink of institutional disinfectant. She sat on the loo, unzipped my fly and began giving me a blow job.

I was already stiff but would need her to be wet. She sucked my cock with quick hurried strokes as I slid a hand inside her dress to touch her nipples.

As soon as both nipples were hard, she tore open the packet with the rubber and rolled it onto me. I was stiff; she was ready.

Penetration posed a difficulty. The carriage shook and swayed as the train took a curve making standing up unaided impossible. The door was too thin and flimsy to lean against and the side walls too narrow to use them. Lying on the floor was obviously out of the question. This left the back wall, I placed her hands mid way up and raised her skirt.

I gently stroked her pussy through the material of the pink panties protecting them. I could feel she was plenty wet enough. Then I brushed the gusset to one side to touch her naked flesh and she moaned softly as I pressed my thumb deep into her.

She moaned louder when my prick into her flesh. She was tight, very tight and it took several thrusts to loosen her up. The position was not quite right either. I made her stand with one foot on the floor and the other on the loo which let me slide in and out more comfortably and forced her into a sort of half turn letting me see her face.

Barely ten minutes ago we had not exchanged a single word. Now she was shutting her eyes tight with each thrust of my cock inside her.

I came quickly and replaced my cock with my thumb, frigging her clit with my forefinger. We didn't have much time and I really wanted to make her come. There was a sudden squealing of brakes and the carriage shook as we crossed the points then came to a sudden stop. This was enough to set her off with a loud scream.

She hugged me close, adjusted her dress and left. I washed my hands, re-zipped my fly and returned to my seat: She was gone.

I looked round but she was nowhere in the carriage, then as the train started moving again, caught sight of her waving to me from the platform. I waved back and she blew me a kiss.

And I didn't even know her name.