“Tickets, please!”

The man looks tired, but does his best to appear imposing. It’s the last train of the night, an empty carriage save for the two people right at one end, sitting diagonally across from one another.

I bring the requested item out of my pocket. The man gives it a cursory glance before turning to the woman sitting by the aisle. She’s rummaging in her bag. “What have I done with it?” she murmurs.

The Revenue Protection Officer (who invents these job titles?) taps his foot impatiently. The woman continues rummaging. She looks pretty, even prettier now she’s flustered, a hint of shyness in her eyes, straight blonde hair sweeping over her shoulders, and a black dress caressing sturdy thighs and a voluminous bosom. “It must be here,” she says, looking up at the figure of authority looming over her. “I know I put it…”

“Ma’am, if you can’t produce a ticket, I’m afraid I shall have to…”

He breaks off. It’s clear why. The woman is looking up at him, batting her eyelashes, but the killer is the way her legs part slightly as she slowly pulls her dress up, revealing more and more tanned nylon until she’s showing the man that tights but no panties are covering her crotch. “Have to what?” she says with a playful tone. “I love a man in uniform, and I’d hate to be disappointed.”

“Ma’am,” the conductor says. “This is most improper. You do realise there’s CCTV on this train?” Then his tone changes. “Unfortunately it’s on the blink. It’s always on the blink.”

“Unfortunately?” the woman says, rubbing the crotch of her tights before reaching out to undo the man’s trousers.

He turns, looking worriedly at me. I shrug. “Who am I gonna tell?” I say. “Who’s gonna believe me?”

“Let him watch!” the woman breathes. “Having an audience turns me on.”

The man’s cock is out in the open, big and swollen. The woman leans forward, extending her tongue and sliding the tip the full length of the organ. The man grunts.

The woman leans back, parting her legs some more and grabbing the crotch of her tights, ripping them through. “What the...” the conductor says in amazement. The woman touches herself, rubs herself as she leans forward again. This time she opens her mouth wide, and suddenly that big shaft is embedded in her mouth.

I can see the bulge in her cheek. Whatever she’s doing to him is to the uniformed man’s liking, and he gives off an appreciative grunt. The woman’s smiling eyes turn my way as her legs part a little more. Deft fingers find their way inside. She works them, stimulating herself as her head bobs. Her lips slide up and off. Still fingering herself, she says, “So what would you say is fair compensation for my transgression, Mr Ticket Man?”

The man puts his hand on the woman’s head.

“Just you keep going, doll,” he tells her.

So she does, the fingers on one hand working deep inside, the fingers on the other curling round the big shaft as she wipes the helmet over glossy lips. Her lips part, but she teases the man by wiping his cock over her cheeks, which begin to glisten.

She brings her fingers out, but only to administer intense stimulation to her clit. “Aah!” she moans. Her fingers slide back inside as her lips move down the big pole. This time she doesn’t stop until they’ve travelled the full distance, her mouth full to bursting with the official’s big cock, she gives me another sly glance, eyes dancing merrily.

Saliva drips from her mouth as she slides her lips back up. She continues working her hand between her thighs as the man’s cock is revealed, wet and slick with saliva. The woman grabs it, again wiping it over her cheeks, light reflecting in the moisture that attaches to her.

“Fucking hell!” the man exclaims. A hand reaches out, grabbing at the woman’s tits through her top.

“Aah!” she moans. Her fingers come out, and she rubs frantically at her clit as she begins wanking the man’s rod with just as much intensity. Her mouth opens wide and she brings out her tongue, lashing at the man’s swollen bulb as her hand works his cock.

Now he’s using both hands to maul her bosom, squeezing hard. The woman bobs her head over him briefly, only to come off and keep lashing away with her tongue, both hands working frantically, the one against her quim, the other against his cock. “Aah!” she gasps. “Aah!”

Her body shakes. The fact of her climax sets the conductor off. Her joyous moans collide with his loud grunts as he begins to emit. The woman’s tongue is there, then as the man continues to fire semen, she wipes his cock all over her cheeks and lips, white sticky seed decorating her face, as she moans blissfully.

Job done, the official somewhat sheepishly stuffs his cock back in his trousers. The woman rummages in her bag again. “Oh!” she exclaims. “Look what I found!”

She brings out wet wipes, but alongside them her railway ticket. The man just stares, then says. “Well, that’s all right then, ma’am. Enjoy the rest of your journey.”

He wanders back along the aisle as the woman looks at me and smiles, wiping her face clean, though drips of cum on her clothes are evidence of what has passed. “If he’d have asked, I’d have let him do me from behind,” she says.

I flash her a smile in return. “Maybe I can be of assistance,” I say.

The woman’s eagerness cannot be doubted. She spins round immediately, kneeling on the seat and grabbing hold of the headrest. I stare at her luscious pudenda through ripped nylon as I stand up and whip out my cock.