This story, absolutely true, happened years back. It was a ballsy move, and my buddies—hardcore womanizers, some way older than me—still give me props for it. But honestly, I only pulled it off because of the booze. Back then, I was drinking every day, and alcohol made me horny as hell. Horny was basically my default state. I was in my mid-thirties, married but separated from my wife for a bit. I didn’t mess with prostitutes, and I wasn’t into paying for sex. So, my cock was always hard, hunting for pussy.
One night, I was traveling from Pune to Nagpur on a train. It was a first-class compartment, four berths, like they had back in the day. Around 9 PM, the train stopped at Daund station, and a couple got on—Shyam, about sixty, fat and looking sickly, and his wife, Rohini, probably late forties or early fifties. Rohini was fair, with a body that was pure fire—curvy, full, and fucking stacked. Her tits and ass in that blue saree had my cock standing at attention instantly. Man, she was a total babe!
Shyam and Rohini tried making small talk with me, but I brushed them off. I’d been drinking, and I didn’t want them catching the smell of booze. From their chatter, I learned Shyam was retired, and they were heading to Nagpur to visit their daughter. The TTE told us no one else was coming to our compartment and to lock the door. I hit my berth fast, not wanting Shyam or Rohini to know I was drunk or deal with the embarrassment. Rohini’s mature, juicy body was already driving me wild. Her saree hugged her curves, those tits and ass popping out, making my cock throb like crazy.
The train was speeding toward Nagpur. It was a chilly December night, with cold air slipping through the window and faint moonlight spilling into the compartment. That soft glow made Rohini’s fair skin look even hotter. The silence of the compartment, the rhythmic clack of the train, and the cool air were cranking up my horniness. After a while, I woke up and saw Rohini sleeping on the lower berth across from me, with Shyam on the upper berth above her. Her saree’s pallu had slipped, and her tits—fuck, what a sight! Big, round, and tight, like they were begging to be grabbed. My cock was rock-hard again. It was just the three of us in the compartment, and the thought of Shyam sleeping right above while I eyed his wife made my heart race and my cock pulse.
I was covered with my dhoti, using it like a blanket. Thinking of Rohini’s tits, I jerked off quietly, unloading into my underwear, and passed out again. But the horniness wouldn’t quit. When I woke up later, I kept the dhoti over me. Through its thin fabric, I saw Rohini wasn’t sleeping anymore. She was sitting on her berth, staring at me, her eyes glinting like she wanted something. Shyam was snoring loud enough to shake the compartment. I heard footsteps in the corridor—maybe the TTE or some staff—and my heart skipped a beat. If someone knocked or Shyam woke up, we’d be screwed. But that risk only made my cock harder.
I don’t know what came over me. I slid off my berth, stepping softly on the cold floor to avoid any noise. The metal berth creaked faintly, and I froze, glancing at Shyam. He was still out cold. I crept over to Rohini and sat next to her. Without a word, I grabbed her tits, squeezing them hard through her saree. She flinched but didn’t push me away or make a sound. Her eyes had this slutty spark, like she was getting off on the danger too. I put a finger to my lips, and she nodded. I gestured for her to lift her legs onto the berth, and I did the same. No way I wanted Shyam to glance down and see our legs tangled together.
I slowly unbuttoned her blouse, my hands shaking—not just from the booze but from the fear of the berth creaking or Shyam stirring. I unhooked her bra, pulling her tits out. Holy fuck, they were perfect—firm, round, not sagging a bit. For a woman her age, Rohini’s body was like a young chick’s. I took one tit in my mouth, sucking gently, swirling my tongue around her nipple. It hardened instantly. Rohini’s body trembled slightly, but she stayed quiet, pressing my head closer to her chest like she was saying, “Keep sucking, don’t stop.” I squeezed her other tit, pinching the nipple, and she let out a soft gasp, barely audible over the train’s rumble.
My right hand slid down, feeling her pussy over her saree. The fabric rustled faintly, and I froze again, checking Shyam. He was still snoring. I signaled Rohini to spread her legs more, and she did, giving me better access. I pressed hard on her pussy through the saree, feeling the faint outline of her bush. My cock was throbbing so hard it hurt. I grabbed her hand and placed it on my crotch. Rohini slowly unbuttoned my pants, unzipped them, and slipped her hand into my underwear, gripping my cock. She pulled it out with skill, staring at it. I’m fair-skinned, and when my cock’s hard, the tip turns reddish-pink. She smiled, like she was impressed with my dick.
I lifted her blue saree and matching petticoat, revealing her blue panties—damn, that color’s burned into my memory. I slid my hand inside her panties, feeling her pussy. It was hot and soaking wet, like a fucking furnace. Rohini was as horny as I was. I slipped a finger into her pussy, fucking her slowly with it. She squirmed, her breath hitching, but stayed silent to avoid waking Shyam. Her hand worked my cock, stroking it slowly, making it feel like heaven, but I didn’t want to cum like that.
The train was flying, its “clack-clack” rhythm matching my pulse. I prayed Shyam wouldn’t wake up. Then his berth creaked, and my heart nearly stopped. I looked at Rohini, and she froze too, her eyes wide with fear. Shyam shifted but went back to snoring. That close call made my cock even harder. Rohini’s pussy was dripping now, like a river. I started rubbing her clit, slow and steady—I was a pro at this from years of practice. She was climbing toward orgasm, her body tensing. When she was about to cum, I clamped my other hand over her mouth, scared she’d moan. She came hard, her pussy gushing, soaking my fingers.
I lifted her saree and petticoat higher, getting a close look at her pussy. She spread her legs as wide as she could without sticking them off the berth. Fuck, what a sight—her pussy was thick, juicy, and covered in dark hair. I parted the hair to see her pink slit, glistening with her cum. Shyam’s wife’s pussy was wide open for me, right under his sleeping ass. The thrill was unreal. We communicated with gestures, keeping quiet to avoid waking Shyam. I pointed at my cock, asking her to suck it. She shook her head no—guess she wasn’t into blowjobs. I didn’t push.
I glanced up to check Shyam—still snoring, oblivious that his wife was getting fucked below him. Footsteps echoed in the corridor again, and my heart raced. I signaled Rohini to stay quiet, and we held our breath until the sound passed. We moved to one side of the berth, and I laid her on her back. She spread her legs wide, keeping her feet hidden. I pulled my pants and underwear down and climbed on top of her. The train’s motion guided my cock right into her hot, wet pussy. I pushed in deep, and we started fucking to the train’s rhythm. Her pussy gripped my cock tighter with every thrust. Rohini lifted her ass, matching my movements, her soft gasps driving me wild.
We fucked like that for a while, her pussy so wet my cock slid in and out effortlessly. I grabbed her tits again, squeezing hard, and kissed her neck and ears. Rohini pulled me closer, digging her nails into my shoulders, like she wanted my cock deeper. The berth creaked again, and we froze. Shyam turned over, muttering something in his sleep. My heart pounded, thinking we were caught, but he settled back into snoring. That scare made the fucking even hotter. I shifted Rohini to the edge of the berth, lifting one of her legs over my shoulder. My cock went deeper, hitting her sweet spot. She scratched my back, her pussy clenching around me.
I sucked her tit again, biting the nipple lightly as I pounded her harder. The train’s speed, her pussy’s heat, and the fear of Shyam waking drove me insane. I sped up, and Rohini matched every thrust, her ass bouncing. Finally, I came hard inside her pussy, and she came too, her pussy milking my cock. We locked eyes, sharing a quick, sly smile, then quietly fixed our clothes.
I crept back to my berth, and Rohini settled into hers. We passed out without a word. In the morning, the train was near Nagpur, and Shyam was in the toilet. I whispered to Rohini, “You’re one hell of a fuck, Rohini.” She grinned and said, “You’re not bad yourself, stud.” We introduced ourselves like nothing happened. Rohini said she was heading to help her daughter with a delivery. She and Shyam were from Nagpur, and he was a retired state government officer. I asked for her address, but she laughed and refused. I teased, “Get cozy with your son-in-law,” and she blushed, giggling.
When Shyam returned, I introduced myself again, and we chatted normally until Nagpur. But my mind was stuck on that night—Rohini’s juicy pussy, her killer tits, and the thrill of banging her right under Shyam’s nose.