She stands, exposed to the cool air in the private compartment – a soft sexy giggle falls from her mouth as she watches him slowly move that familiar slim hand along the length of his hard penis. Her mother would have said he has the fingers of a piano player. She laughs to herself, imagining her mother’s horror seeing this man openly masturbating.

Through the train window, another beautiful red-roofed Alpine village cascades down a bronzed mountain towards a glacial lake. Normally she would be filming the scene beyond the glass, but not today.

“Come on, Harlot - do it,” he demands.

The heady aroma of the cinnamon sticks that hang from the crystal lamp – his cologne and her own reeking sex, makes her shiver in anticipation. Her eyes never leave his, as she slowly and carefully, rolls down the black stocking from her pale slender leg. The hungry twitch of his cock tells her she’s doing a good job.

Walking over to the bed, she slides the gossamer thread over the tightness of the bulging purple head, his desperate sighs filling the space between their naked bodies.

“Hurry up, you fucking whore!”

She wants to push a pointed nipple into his mouth, to silence his angry words. But it won’t be long now, and she will be the one making demands, the one in charge.

Her tongue circles the tip of his cock, and a small pearl of pre-cum appears, saluting her appetitive mouth. She sucks the liquid through the net, relishing the flavour.

In her mind, there is no better taste: Well, maybe there is just one delectation better; fresh blood. She’ll taste that when he sleeps tonight.

She brings up her knees and sits on his stubbled chin; the roughness of his mustache delights her little button.

Smothering his mouth with her dripping cunt; she presses harder, and with a deep sigh, relieves her bladder, allowing the piss to run over his face and pool around her knees.

Looking out the window, she senses the slowing of the train. On the trackside, groups of beautiful blonde-haired children wave flags and cheer.

“Damn it, Eva! I’m begging you before it’s too late…I’m so - so close,” his weak words came between sharp breathless gasps.

She bends forward and slides her tongue up his heavily veined netted shaft and purses her lips, ready to take him fully into her mouth.

“Jawohl, Mein Fuhrer!” she salutes.

He senses the obvious sarcasm, but not for the first time today, his relief overpowers the anger.