I looked out the broken window of the train. It was nice seeing snow, even if I had never really fancied it. I couldn't shake the regret of not having enjoyed the simpler things in the past. The new world was forcibly ordered under mass surveillance. Drones, robots, and cameras everywhere. No matter where you looked, humanity was held captive.

I hated myself for not having the principle to stand up against it at the time and laughing off those who did. Humanity had been hijacked but questions remained. When had our words stopped counting, or had they ever? And how far back did it all go? The puzzle of Hegelian dialectics was confusing, but it had worked to get the collective to open the door to the technological Trojan Horse. Some thought it would usher in a utopia, unprecedented capabilities, and take us to the peak of humanity. We were wrong. Oh, so wrong, and there was no turning back without first realizing our own faults.

The mandatory watch on my wrist was permanently lit red. Everyone on the train was the same. We were outcasts, like the outlaws in those old western movies. These fuckers gave us a dating app that works. If it's red, it's bed, I thought, repeating the joke that never failed to put a smile on my face.

One thing the train was known for was sex. The outcasts had basically turned it into a traveling, anonymous orgy. Find someone, anyone, don't exchange identifiable information and have sex with them. It was a way for us to remember our humanity, to share an intimate moment, even if we were mostly strangers.

We were lucky if we ate everyday. Most decided to stay on the train with an excuse not to get off in the next city, which meant skipping a meal on the outskirts upon arrival. Beyond the drones and robots, the way the subservient people looked at us was worse. Just comply. Do what you're told. Stop making your life difficult, they said, recalling the propaganda, and they were right to an extent, up to the point of standing for freedom.

I looked around, hoping to find a pair of eyes looking back. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry from one section to the next. The ones with the broken windows were the least visited due to the harsh cold. Nobody wanted to be in them after showering, but they had a unique charm, a more personal and intimate setting in a way.

I spotted a young woman, a few years younger than me, sitting by the corner window. She appeared to be expressing her view of the landscape on a napkin, which those from the cities never got to see. She looked healthier than the rest; her body was full, curvy in the right places under her winter jacket. Her dark brown hair blossomed past her shoulders, and her lips were smooth. All good indications she had just fled a city.

I approached her hesitantly, trying to pick up more clues about her. "H-hey, sorry to interrupt your drawing, er, you seem new around here," I said, coming into her peripheral vision.

She hid her fingernails from my view, but not before I noticed the traces of nail polish on them. "Yeah, I just, um, I just left my city," she said, gesturing to the seat in front of her.

With the backdrop of the world being a cold, dystopian hell, there was no time for shyness or holding back any type of sentiment. "So, you came looking for trouble?" I asked, leaving it a bit open-ended for her to decide.

Her lips parted to reveal her bright smile, another contrasting trait, and something uncommon for any longtime outcast. "I came for two things. One, rebellion. And, two, sex," she said, giving me a look that reminded me of flirting at a bar.

I raised my eyebrows and returned a smile. "Hmm, best I can do is rebellious sex," I said, digging beyond my sufferings to find the little bit of game I still had left.

I grabbed her hand and took her to the back of the section, past the broken windows, and to the corner behind the seats for added privacy. Out in the wild like we called it, it wasn't much about looks or standards. It was about warmth and sharing a moment like others had shared since before recorded history.

My starving hands roamed her body, inviting her to mount me on the floor, while salivating with every palm and squeeze. "I'm gonna make you mine, then you're gonna tell me why you're so rebellious," I said, fumbling with the zipper of her pants as she got on top of me.

She reached inside her jacket, and pulled out a lip balm stick. "Not with those dry lips you aren't," she said, combing my beard with her fingers before applying the balm on my lips with a soft touch of empathy that I missed dearly.

We undressed each other through our kissing embrace, leaving our clothes to cushion the otherwise hard floor. Every layer of clothing further contrasted our time spent on the outside. Her clothing was clean, neat, and downright sexy. Her underwear was a bold shade of green I hadn't seen up close in years, aside from maybe looking at the vast green forests that we passed occasionally.

I filled my hands with the weight of her breasts, stopping her from unclasping the hook. "Leave it on. It's really sexy," I said, pulling the thin fabric down just enough to expose her nipples for my tongue.

Her moans and whimpers drowned out the sound of the train, and more importantly, silenced the despair of the world we travelled. A mutual interaction between two humans, emanating from the depths of their soul. That's how romantic we'd become about sex, and perhaps, how it should've always been.

My hands helped my lips with her breasts, matching their eagerness and applying the same treatment. I could feel her purring heat through my boxers. I craved it, I would have it, but not at the expense of rushing the appreciation of her flawless skin. I was tired of rushing. I wanted this moment to last forever.

I lost myself in her scent, buried my face between her breasts, and palmed her ass cheeks to my liking. Our arousal increased each time our lips smacked together. If anyone saw us, they wouldn't imagine we had just met by the way we were feeling each other. The chemistry was present, the exquisite sexual dynamic that only a natural bond could ignite.

In that moment, we were briefly interrupted by the sound of a scanning drone. She looked up, scanning back with her eyes, and suddenly started laughing. "It just crashed against a tree," she said, returning her eyes to me, filling my heart with the joy of her smile.

The poetic, nature vs machine narrative gave way to another segment, a more romantic but equally symbolic one. In a world devoid of boundaries, where trespasses were normalized, I sought access to pleasures concealed by a thin string. I pulled her panties aside, past the crescent of her plumpness that would hold them in place.

She planted kisses around my face, turning my flesh tender as if asking for permission she already had to fulfill our pairing. "I've been waiting for someone like you," I confessed, urging her to envelope me in her sultriness.

She returned her tongue between my lips, distracting me momentarily while she unleashed my throbbing member from its restraints. "Well, your wait is over. You're in for a ride," she said, aiming my cock directly at her entrance.

She dropped her weight on me, giving each of my inches the same snug welcome until the bottom of her ass cheeks nestled against my thighs. I groaned as she gave me a second to familiarize myself with her intimately. This could not be replicated, nor taken away by machines.

Her hips worked their magic on me, captivating me in their spell. Even if only for a late afternoon, I relished blurring the world behind us. Our eye contact said what our moans left out. The imprint of our existence was marked by making love. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth. No matter how gritty I'd become, the unique sensations of the female anatomy rendered me vulnerable. I traced her body with my palms, squeezing her fleshiest areas, resorting to tactile communication to ask her for more.

When I opened my eyes, I saw her head tilted upward, with her tongue savoring the lust on her lips. For a moment, her warmth froze me. My hands reluctantly released the softness of her ass cheeks, allowing her a solo performance on my body. A million thoughts rushed through my mind, but none worthy of interrupting her. I don't know who you are, I told her in my mind. But you're one of a kind.

Her breasts bounced every time she took me to the hilt. Her soft pink nipples and darker areolas complemented the green shade of her bra. My admiration for her sex almost stopped me from helping her over the edge. One thing I had not forgotten was the thrill of making a woman orgasm, and I accompanied her by spanking her ass and making it jiggle.

Her juices left a trail of natural lubrication down my shaft, only for her lips to smear it every time they passed by. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come," she warned, opening her eyes to return from the expressions of her mind.

She switched to a back and forth rhythm, grinding herself towards the finish line by rubbing her stuffed pussy and clit against me. I brought her closer to me. Her skin was hot enough to melt the snow outside, but it melted my lips instead. Every stroke of my tongue was met with the pounding of her heart against it.

She kissed my forehead and held me tightly between her breasts. "Ohhm, fuckk yesss," she moaned, remaining still except for her pussy spasms begging me to reciprocate.

While her body floated in sexual ecstasy, my slow, deep kisses ushered her back down and served as gentle reminders of my pending climax. I spread her ass cheeks and let them fall back in my place into my palms.

She ran her fingers through my hair and kissed me on the forehead again. "You wanna hit it from the back, huh?" she asked, flashing me the cutest smile.

"Hey, if you want that"—I played along, stopping for a moment to entertain her lips—"just say that."

She moved her jacket under her knees for cushion and got in position. Face down, ass up. Doggystyle suited her well. It presented a sight I'd not yet seen since becoming an outcast. Besides her round portions of flesh that parted themselves in this position, enticing me with her sopping pink entrance, there was a small tattoo on her left ass cheek next to her thong. I couldn't make out exactly what it was, but it appeared to be some type of rebellious symbol, perhaps a membership to a particular resistance group.

I took a mental image of it, along with a few snaps of the way her back arched. I lifted my right leg at about a ninety degree angle to increase my range of motion and allow for longer thrusts. Just before I returned to my newfound addiction, I noticed the sky was getting darker, which meant we were approaching the next stop.

I lubricated the tip of my cock along the length of her slit and tapped it a couple of times against her rear entrance. My rigid length reintroduced itself inch by inch, this time with a more selfish objective. It was now my turn for a solo act, with my hips playing the leading role and the softness of her flesh clapping for me.

My sexual duality wrestled within me. One side wanted to delay my orgasm while the other urged me to grab her hips for better leverage. The combination of her womanly sensations made me weak. I admitted to myself that I wasn't going to last much longer and opted for the latter.

The neurodivergent part of me couldn't help but fixate on certain details. The way her ass rippled every time my thighs made contact with it. How her plump cushion reverted to its natural shape just in time for it to jiggle again. The puckering sphincter that teased me with a future I would actually enjoy for a change. And last but not least, the tattoo and its hidden meaning. She was serious about the sex. Maybe she's really serious about the rebellion part, too, I thought, enamored with the mysteries of my new partner.

Her moans guided me. She liked it hard and fast. The depth of penetration didn't seem to matter as much as stretching her tightness. "Mmmnn, you're pounding it so fucking good," she said, gripping the clothes underneath her and turning her knuckles white.

I stung her ass with the palm of my hand. "Fuck, you're gonna make me bust," I told her, adding another spank to blame her for my wantonness.

I slotted my length into her one final time, burying it deep to unleash my orgasm. The first rope pulsed out of my cock with strength and volume. The second matched it. The rest waned but added their own white coating to the natural painting in her walls.

We kissed and caressed our way down from the orgasmic highs. We were no longer strangers after momentarily ascending together into a realm that could not be corrupted. It felt therapeutic to share this bond, even if our path was uncertain. We made a makeshift bed out of torn-down propaganda posters and our jackets, hoping that nobody found us in our secluded section. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, I closed my eyes with a warmth that soothed me along with her embrace.

As if reality wasn't bad enough, my mind could not rest peacefully through the night. I awoke in the middle of the night, sweating cold from another nightmare about populations living in prisons disguised as shelters. There was always some fear manifesting itself through visions in my sleep.

The prison planet had been realized through deception, built by those who sought short-term gains in exchange for a future that would see those incentives and the world as they knew it vanish into thin air. Some had played their part willingly but most were victims of something they could not comprehend. The multi-layered machine turned against us, or perhaps, it worked as intended. More than anything, the root of the problem was how foolish we had been to think those at the top would relinquish their position. I broke down crying, or tried to at least, because my body could not produce enough tears to match my angst.

I put my closed fists on either side of my head and gently hit myself, not able to muster the force my anger demanded. Beyond the physical ailments, this one hit my atrophied soul, cracked it into pieces and surrendered the fight in me. "There's no future. There's no fucking hope," I cried.

She awoke next to me, and comforted me in her arms. "It's okay. It's human," she said, blanketing my soul with her empathy. "What they fear the most is equality, and they have made us equally devastated. We're gonna have an opportunity to stand for what we believe in, and soon, the rebellion will rise."

I had no words. Nothing would suffice. My state of shock and confusion forced silence upon me. I found solace in knowing that I was surrounded by people from all different backgrounds and occupations. Like she said, we were equals now, no longer under illusory pretenses of superiority to one another.

I joined her quietly on the floor. I was acquainted with silence having been introverted most of my life, but now all I wanted was to roar alongside humanity through the chambers of history. I held her tightly in my arms. Our bodies trembled. At this point, we no longer knew if it was because of malnourishment, cold or fear. My final thoughts before sleep were usually a fantasy that maybe someone or something from deep outer space would come to our rescue, but on this night my new lover's tattoo and words echoed with hope: the rebellion will rise.