Marsene MacAllistair sat back on the train seat, listening to the clack of her train racing down its tracks. Her flight into Brussels had been delayed, and while the bank had been informed and her hotel reserved, she wouldn't be in Luxembourg until almost dawn. She had hoped to spend her first day in Europe enjoying the countryside as she traveled to her new home. But in the dark of night, once she left the town all light but the train disappeared. That alone made Europe different from Michigan. In America, the city stretched into the country. In Europe, the country began the moment the town ended. It was all night. And the train spun onward.

Marsene was thirty-five, a curvaceous blonde woman who had taken a job in Luxembourg because she could and because it helped her get as far as possible from her ex-wife Pauline. Their divorce had been very ugly, full of spite and recriminations. In the end, it paid off for Pauline as Marsene gave her ex their house, their furniture, and their dog in order to make the break clean and total. Marsene took only her clothes and her laptop to take on her way to a fresh European adventure. In a way, it felt like it had when she'd finished her MBA at Michigan. She was free then and starting a new life. Now she was starting over again. Freedom was what mattered to her most at that moment.

The train stopped at a small, well-lit station and a slim girl in a short polka-dot sundress got on and found her way into Marsene's car, choosing the seat directly opposite the older woman. She was talking on her phone in French, which Marsene spoke fluently, jabbering about a recent lover. Dressed for a night out, her seat mate was young, slim, and shapely, and wore an ultra-short sleeveless red polka-dot dress that barely made her upper thighs. She wore white strapped high heels, and clearly was heading home after a night on the town. Or on to someone.

She was more than pretty, Marsene admitted, even if preoccupied. Having nothing better to look at, she studied the girl, from the bump of her nipples through the thin fabric of her dress to her smoothly muscled thighs. Her medium brown hair was silky and smooth. Polka-dot girl had the beauty, fresh skin, and trim body of a young woman, perhaps still in college. She was just the sort of girl Marsene had pursued before she met Pauline. And might again, she admitted, fantasizing about what life might be if only this world was different.

The girl looked up at her, looked her right into the eyes, phone still at her mouth, speaking in rapid-fire French. “No, I will not be seeing Philippe again. He is slime!” Her face tilted. She had full red lips, with freshly refreshed lipsticks and big brown eyes, very seductive to Marsene's eyes. “Oh he is a tres sexy, to be sure, but a pig nonetheless. I can find someone better.”

Marsene smiled back at her, deciding she had to be hopelessly heterosexual but for fantasy, she might suffice. Fantasy had been her love life since her marriage had gone bad.

“No, no, no! Anita. You should never go for him. He will fuck you over like he has me! There are many whales in the sea. We deserve better than blubber.”

Marsene turned aside and looked outside the window. The train car was empty except for the two of them. Nothing outside but blackness. The conductor came by and checked their tickets before moving on. Meanwhile, the girl finished her one conversation, then began a new one, this time in German, a language Marsene did not speak. It seemed harsh to her ears, even though the girl's high-pitched voice was musical. Against her better judgment, her eyes swung back to the girl. To her pretty lips and those smooth, firm thighs.

Marsene imagined herself between them eagerly tasting the girl in the polka-dot dress, in her fantasy giving polka-dot girl a good reason to give up men like her no-good Philippe for all time. She wondered what the girl's pussy would taste like, and licked her lips remembering the times when she'd had such adventures, and discovering just how wonderful women were to love. Marsene thought back to Annie and Maeve, two girls who had each sworn they were straight before spreading their legs for her tongue.

The girl raised up her left leg, resting her toes on the seat, knee bent, and pulling her skirt wide open. Marsene sighed in surprise as she saw the girl wore no panties. Her mound was freshly waxed, her lips pink, pouting, and wrinkled, her clitoris peeking just out from under her hood. She had a beautiful pussy, and the flecks of dried semen around it marked a freshly fucked pussy which did nothing to detract from her beauty. Marsene swallowed and forced herself to look away, look out into the darkness. She looked at her watch. Two hours ride left, more than that until she could get to her hotel room. There she could touch herself and make herself cum while imagining how it would feel to slide her tongue into polka-dot's delicious-looking slit.

The girl must have noticed. She winked at Marsene and pointed a long finger, with long, brilliant red nails down toward her sex. Polka-dot had given her a clear invitation; maybe even an impudent command as if the girl had been reading her mind. Marsene hesitated for a moment, looked around. No one else was in their car. I shouldn't her consciousness told herself. I shouldn't! But her pussy and nipples tingled their disagreement. Marsene took a deep breath and slid to her knees between the girl's outstretched legs.

She extended her tongue and ran it along the girl's right thigh, climbing upward. A free hand ran to the back of Marsene's head, caressing the older woman's scalp through her buzz cut, soft fingers on her scalp as Marsene's nose came close to the girl's slit. Her scent was strong, salty, extra musky. Yes, the girl had been recently fucked. Yes, a man had pumped his seed inside her. No, it did not matter, not with this tasty treat right before her. Marsene trilled her tongue up and down the girl's slit, making certain to savor every millimeter of pink labia.

The girl gasped into her phone but kept talking. Marsene kept gliding her tongue up and down. She wanted to force polka-dot to give up her call, to make her toss her phone aside and just clamp the older woman's head tight to her pussy. Up and down her tongue swept, flat and teasing, tracing out each bit of her sticky lips, before dipping inside. She pushed her tongue inside polka-dot's slit, and the girl's pussy contracted, pushing something sticky out onto Marsene's tongue. It was semen of course, but Marsene wasn't repulsed. It felt dirty and nasty to taste this stranger so fresh from her lover's bed - if it had been a bed.

They might have fucked standing up in the alley, a quick tryst to get them through the night. A girl who would order a stranger to her cunt on a train would never care about propriety. She wondered what her man would have thought if he knew his cum would end up on another woman's tongue. Of course, he would love it, he was a man after all, but he would not enjoy how eagerly the girl's hips had begun to pump, the pressure on the back of her Marsene's head, holding her tight to this young needy pussy. He would not like that Marsene knew she was going to make this girl in the polka-dot dress cum like no man ever had before. The older blonde butch pushed her tongue deep into polka-dot's slippery slit and ran her upper lip over the girl's clit to make sure the girl knew what a treat this all was for her.

The girl hung up and set her phone down on the train seat, both hands grabbing the older butch and driving her mouth to her pussy. That thrilled Marsene, made her own pussy contract, showed her that she was now in charge, and her tongue had captured the girl and forced her full attention to this moment there on the train. The girl's hips rolled and undulated and she rotated her pussy up to make it easier for Marsene to savor the salty discharge from her sticky wet cunt. The girl was moaning now, softly with a high-pitched trill to the end of it, hips undulating as Marsene wrapped her lips about the girl's pearl to suck before plunging her tongue deep into the sweet, quivering pussy.

Her hands left Marsene's head, but her hips kept pumping. She was on her phone dialing.

Marsene felt some defeat but kept licking, she would make her put her phone down again. She was sure of it, and too far into the dance, too aroused now to quit that her lips and cheeks shone with girl cream.

“Philippe,” said the girl in French. “This is Noelle. Yes, I am on the train home. Yes, I fucked Raoul. His dick was very sweet. And at this very moment, I have a lesbian between my legs licking my pussy... Yes, this lesbian is very. very good. She is going to make me cum like you never could!"

Marsene kept licking, tasting how the tension was rising in her cunt. She didn't mind being part of polka-dot's petty revenge, not if it tasted this good. Lines of sticky cunt goo trailed from her lips until she cut it with her tongue to circle the girl's swollen clit.

Polka-dot moaned into her phone. “Yes, Philippe I am really getting my pussy eaten and so good too... This woman, this lesbian knows what she is doing. Perhaps I shall become a lesbian too. If it's this good...”

She moaned aloud into her phone and bucked. Marsene could feel a series of spasms rock her body and pussy. Fresh juices flooded from her and down onto the older woman's cheeks and jaw as she could not capture all of the girl's eruption. Polka dot writhed and arched her back, bringing her sphincter into view.

The girl was moaning and moaning, into the phone. Marsene heard an angry male voice jabbering but could not make out his words. Not that she cared what this Philippe thought.

“Oh, she is so good, cheri, so very good. I have not cum that hard in forever, and she does not stop..."

Marsene did not stop. She slid her tongue down to the girl's pink pucker, to press her tongue tip to her star and lick it up and down, and press the tip to try and work it inside. “Oh, and now she is licking my asshole. She does not mind how dirty that is, what it does... Oh, this lesbian is so good, that I must become a lesbian myself! Her tongue is in my ass, Philippe... Yes, she has it up my asshole... Do you remember how you wanted to stick your dick in there? I'm glad I never let you... But I might let her fuck me there.“

Marsene kept rimming polka-dot dress, tongue pushing hard, trying to work it inside her. Marsene raised her right hand to make a cone with three fingers and push into the girl's well-fucked pussy. And polka-dot screamed as older fingers stretched that pretty pussy and filled her.

“Oh, she is fucking me now. Oh, she fucks me so well.”

Marsene let her fingers rest inside the girl's cunt, letting it stretch, and then twisted them and pulled them back and began to fuck polka dot with purpose.

The girl screamed into her phone “Oh, she is fucking me now, fucking me, and fucking me so well. I would let her have her ass... I would let her fuck my bottom, Philippe... I wonder if she has a harness in her bags?”

Polka-dot girl screamed again and her pussy began to contract, fresh juices pouring from her urethra. The phone slipped from her fingers to land on the seat and fall to the floor as Marsene thrust and licked and felt her own pussy convulse in ecstasy from the simple joy of giving. Philippe was yelling something into the phone but all Marsene could hear was the girl's screams and her own moans combined with the convulsions of a cunt in pure ecstasy. Juice splashed on her face again and it thrilled her. Philippe kept yelling and then it sounded like he was questioning, afraid, then furious as Marsene did for his former love what he never could.

Polka-dot girl lay back on the seat, her chest heaving, a hand over her forehead and another on Marsene's head as she slowly lapped the girl clean, careful, and thankful for the tasty reward the girl had given her. Finally, she pushed Marsene back. The older woman resumed her seat. The girl picked up her phone and shut it off, ignoring the male hectoring coming through. She sat normally, legs closed to hide her pussy from Marsene's gaze. And then gave a quick flash and a naughty smile.

Marsene started to introduce herself, but the girl shook her head. Marsene understood, so she nodded and just smiled at having shared this moment. Minutes later the train rolled to a spot at a stop named Spa. The girl rose and took her purse, leaning over to softly kiss Marsene's lips. She reached into her purse and fished out her used panties to stuff them down the opening in Marsene's blouse. Then with a smile, she slipped out the door and onto the gate. Marsene watched her walk away as the train began to roll again and into the night.

Marsene shifted the girl's panties into her own purse, after a last sniff, Marsene decided she was in the right place.