Chapter 1 — The Woman I Met on a Trip - Part 1 (1)
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. All characters are adults aged 18 or over.
Was this rock bottom?
It felt like I was falling through the world, utterly alone.
After losing big in the stock market, I'd impulsively boarded a train just to clear his head—anywhere, as long as it wasn't here.
The Gangneung-bound train.
Six cars, seat 35. He found his—aisle side.
Ah, well. He'd hoped for a window seat.
With a lurch, the train slid into motion.
Thankfully, the seat beside him stayed empty.
He flagged down the passing snack vendor.
“Hey, one beer and some dried meat, please…”
“How many cans?”
“Just three.”
Maybe it was the freedom of the journey, but he cracked one open right there.
Gulp… gulp…
“Excuse me.”
He froze mid-sip, turning to see her.
“That's my seat. The window side.”
She was about 165 cm tall, hair fluttering like it had just been blow-dried.
A blue T-shirt, gray shorts, and a stylish cardigan draped over her shoulders.
“Oh—ah, sorry!”
He scrambled up, hastily gathering his beer and snacks from the window seat.
“Thank you.”
As she passed, her knee brushed against his leg.
No stockings—just sneakers. Yet she looked striking.
Embarrassed, he tried to smooth things over.
“Want a beer?”
“No thanks, I'm fine. ^^”
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. Beneath the stylish clothes, she looked sad—like she was running from something.
He awkwardly set his beer down and downed the whole can in one go.
Crunch.
He crushed the can with one hand—just like in the movies.
Was he showing off? Maybe. Heh.
His gloom had started to lift, lost in the rhythm of the journey.
Then—
“Hic… hic…”
He turned sharply. Her shoulders trembled.
Great. Now what? He couldn't even drink in peace.
He bolted up, pretending he wanted a smoke, and headed for the door—beer bag in hand.
Clunk. Clunk.
The train swayed, left and right.
He lit a cigarette at the vestibule.
Puff…
The night wind swallowed the smoke, then breathed it back in.
The cold air cleared his lungs. One more sip of beer—clink—and he felt it:
This. This is why we travel.
“Hey.”
He blinked.
She was calling him.
“Huh? I moved—now you're following me?”
She stood there, soft-eyed.
“Yeah?”
His voice cracked. Beer caught in his throat.
“…are you here?”
“Haha. Sorry.”
She giggled, amused by his flustered look.
Cute. Perfect white teeth.
“You moved because of me?”
“No—just needed a smoke. Haha.”
“…can I have that last can? You did offer, remember?”
Huh? Bolder than she looked.
Like some snack vendor, he fished a beer from the bag and handed it over.
“No snacks?”
“What? You're not shy, are you? Heh.”
He tore open the dried meat and passed it to her.
In the swaying doorway, it was just her and him.
Leaning against the wall, crouched on the floor, they drank.
He glanced—just for a second.
Between her shorts, a flash of skin-colored panties.
Gulp… gulp…
More spit than beer went down.
“…what do you do?”
“Someone who gambled everything and lost. Now I'm broke.”
“Haha. You blew your whole fortune on lottery tickets?”
“Haha… But hey—where are you headed?”
“Hmm. I don't know. I just wanted to see the sea.”
“What?”
He stared. She exhaled, like she'd been holding it in.
“My husband's company's been struggling lately. Then we moved—way too far. He's been so irritable. And I've been trying, really…”
She trailed off.
Silence settled.
“But you? Where are you going?”
“I don't know either… haha.”
“Haha… So we're both running nowhere. Haha.”
Her face lit up—suddenly bright.
She'd fled too, just like him, desperate to escape.
“Huh? Already finished?”
“Hey~”
She crouched and called the vendor.
“Five more beers here.”
“What? No, no—five cans?”
He waved his hands, but the vendor didn't care.
“Here you go~”
Five cans landed in front of them.
“It's getting cold. Let's go back inside.”
She shivered—probably from the shorts.
He grabbed the bag and hurried to their seats.
Clunk—
The train braked. She stumbled forward—right into his back.
Thud.
Her chest pressed against him.
An awkward beat.
“Whoa—train hit the brakes.”
“Haha. Guess I got to ride a man's back after all. Haha.”
They laughed it off, sat down—her by the window, him in the aisle.
Like old friends.
He popped open a can for her, then one for him.
“Cheers!!!”
He shouted, giddy and tipsy.
Too loud?
Everyone turned to look.
They hunched, clinked cans quietly, and snickered.
“You're pretty lively, huh? Haha.”
He spoke first.
His laugh drew stares again.
“Hey—keep it down!”
“Ah, sorry. Sorry.”
He half-rose, bowing awkwardly.
Then winked at her, raised his can, and chugged—gulp gulp—in one go.
Holding up one finger, he dared her to do the same.
She covered her mouth, giggling, then nodded.
When he finished, she downed hers too—
Gulp gulp—her throat bobbing. So damn pretty.
Then—
“Cough—!”
She choked. Beer sprayed out.
Oh god—
It splashed all over her shorts.
“Cough—my throat burns… cough…”
He fumbled for tissues and handed them over.
“Sorry… I've had too much. I need to sleep.”
“Go ahead.”
She took off her cardigan, laid it over her damp shorts, and closed his eyes.
He felt the buzz rising.
Clunk—
The train swayed.
He must've dozed off.
Beside him, she slept—soft breaths.
Dead drunk. Wouldn't even wake if he carried her.
Her head thumped against the window with every bump.
He took off his coat, lifted her head gently, and tucked it between her and the glass.
As he did, her cardigan slipped down.
In the flickering light, her bare legs glowed.
He wanted to touch.
Swallowed hard.
Then brushed her thigh with one fingertip.
No reaction.
Soft. Warm.
He glanced at her sleeping face—then placed his whole hand on her leg.
She shifted—pressed her head harder against the window.
Her leg slid toward him.
Heart pounding, he slowly lifted the edge of her shorts.
Skin-colored panties.
A few dark curls peeking out.
Soaked from the beer, the fabric clung—her mound clearly outlined.
Where did he get the nerve?
He pulled her cardigan over her legs, then slid his hand beneath her shorts—into the damp gap.
Then under her panties.
Pushed his fingers into her curls—so soft.
Deeper—her outer lips.
Then inside—her slit.
One finger—then two.
He pushed in—suck—deep.
Rolled his fingers inside her.
Drunk and deep asleep—yet a moan slipped out.
“Mmm…”
He couldn't stop.
Under the cardigan, his hand moved faster.
With his other hand, he pulled hers and placed it on his crotch.
Right on top of his hard cock.
Her fingers curled slightly.
Her hips twitched.
Wetness seeped from her.
Clunk—
The train jolted. Her head slammed against the glass.
He yanked his hand out—closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.
She woke, dazed, looked around.
Then saw his coat on the floor—picked it up and covered him.
Settling back, she tried to sleep.
But he heard it—gulp—her swallowing.
Again—gulp—dry, thick.
Her shoulder trembled against his.
Then—slip—her hand slid under her cardigan.
He peeked.
Her hand moved beneath the fabric—rhythmically.
No doubt. She was touching herself.
He opened his eyes slightly—watched her face.
Eyes tightly shut. Lips parted. Brow furrowed in lust.
His cock throbbed.
She'd covered him with his coat—both his hands were hidden.
He unzipped his pants—pulled out his cock.
Snap—it sprang free.
He gripped it hard.
Pulsing.
“Mmm…”
She moans—close to climax.
He grabbed her wrist—pulled it under his coat.
Silence.
Their eyes met.
He guided her hand—wrapped it around his cock.
Shiver.
She squeezed tight.
He reached under her cardigan—into her shorts—under her panties.
Wet. Soaked.
Her curls slick with juice.
He found her clit—swollen, throbbing.
Rubbed fast.
“Mmmph—!”
She clamped a hand over her mouth.
Her other hand—still on his cock—started jerking him hard.
“Mmm…”
He bit his lip, holding back.
For two minutes—three—
they pleasured each other.
He glanced at the other seats.
An old lady and her grandson—both asleep.
He couldn't hold back.
She pressed harder on her mouth.
“Mmm—”
“Mmm…”
He pulled his coat over both of them—up to her cardigan.
Then pulled it off her.
Under the coat—just us.
She stared, shocked.
Her hand stopped.
He grabbed both hands—yanked her shorts down.
She lifted her hips—helping.
Shorts and panties off in one pull.
Her ass in his hands.
He found her crack—her hole—then lower, her soaked slit.
Still dripping.
He turned her—just like she'd slept—head to the window, ass toward him.
He shifted closer.
Unbuckled, pulled down his underwear.
Turned—his pubic hair brushed her ass.
“Ahh…”
She moans at the touch.
He grabbed her hips—lifted.
Aimed his cock at her entrance—pulled her down.
Slurp—slip—
It slipped in—tight, wet, deep.
Full.
No space left.
Their pubic hair tangled.
“Ahh…”
“Ahh…”
Was it the train's rhythm?
They didn't move their hips—just let the rocking guide them.
Clunk. Clunk.
With every turn of the wheel, their bodies surged.
Clunk… clunk…
“Mmm…”
“Mmm…”
He couldn't stay still—started moving his cock inside her.
She clutched her head—lifted her ass higher.
Now their rhythm joined the train's—piston, fast.
“Ahh…”
“Ahh…”
Her ass shook faster than the train.
He forgot who might see—he slammed into her.
“Ahh…”
“Ahh…”
Sex in plain sight—secret thrilling.
Slap—slap—slap—
Their sounds drowned in the train's clatter.
Slap—
Slap—
“Ahh—ahh—”
Her pussy clenched—squeezed his cock.
He couldn't hold back—came hard.
“Hssss—”
She stiffened—then spasmed, taking every drop deep inside.
“Haa…”
He exhaled—spent.
His softening cock slipped out.
He fixed his clothes fast.
She wiped herself with tissues—pulled her clothes back on.
Without a word, they reached for each other's hands.
Then—quietly—they fell asleep.
“This stop—Gangneung… Gangneung…”
Somehow,
they woke at the same time.
And just like that—their first journey began.