Secrets on the Night Train

On the bed in a train's compartment, I find myself getting pinned beneath my best friend's boyfriend, Gaston Walters. Our bodies are firmly glued to each other.

I don't have any strength left in me, so I can only let Gaston do whatever he wants to me. Soon, I feel him turning me on.

My husband, Stevie Murray's loud snores drift from the bunk bed above our heads. That's when Gaston slowly slides his hand beneath my blanket before hiking my nightgown upward.

"Wow, you're so wet…"

My name was Vera Stone, and I was a corporate executive. To the outside world, I was poised, aloof, and had a tall frame with curves in all the right places and a figure that turned heads.

No one knew that since I was young, I had struggled with deep, strong lust desires. I was easily affected by powerful, masculine men, and sometimes just catching a scent of their cologne was enough to stir my body's reaction.

I was married to Stevie Murray for half a year. Whenever we made out in bed at night, he would joke that I was made of water because we would leave the sheets soaked every single time.

Stevie was a doctor with a grueling work schedule. Sometimes, he came home so exhausted that he crashed the moment his head hit the pillow. We hadn't been intimate for over two weeks.

Every night, my desire built up so much that restlessness crawled under my skin. I could feel myself burning with such maddening desire that I had to fight and hold it back.

Every time, I resorted to watching videos in the dark just to find some semblance of relief.

A few nights ago, I showered, put on my sheerest lace lingerie, and stepped into the bedroom, hoping for a long night. But Stevie was already out cold.

Refusing to give up, I slid into bed behind him, wrapped my legs around his waist, and pressed myself against his back. "I need you, Stevie…"

I was already aching for him, but he frowned. "I'm exhausted, honey. I have an early shift tomorrow, so let's just do it some other day."

"But I can't wait…" I protested, only to hear his snores again.

Our lack of intimacy seemed to draw us further apart, and it left me feeling lost.

When my best friend, Faye Bradshaw, heard, she gave me an idea. "You two just need something fresh. Gaston and I take trips all the time, so maybe things will work out as long as you're somewhere new.

"I booked a beach house for the upcoming holiday, so come with us."

I hesitated. Stevie's busy work schedule rarely allowed getaways, but when I tentatively brought it up, he surprisingly agreed.

Holding me in his arms, he guiltily said, "I've been really busy lately, so I'm sorry you've been feeling neglected."

My eyes were red-rimmed as I shook my head. Stevie and I had been together since college, so I wasn't about to resent him for working hard.

The day before we were leaving for the trip, Faye mysteriously handed me a bag that held a revealing swimsuit. It was a black bikini.

"I picked this just for you. Wear it at the beach, and I promise Stevie won't be able to keep his hands off you."

Her words made me blush hard. Despite my unique body and high drive, I was pretty conservative and never owned such a daring swimsuit. Stevie was my first and the only man I had ever known.

Faye was open-minded and experienced with men, and her words stuck with me. Perhaps Stevie was avoiding intimacy because I was too dull and predictable.

It was just a swimsuit after all, so after some thought, I bit my lip and tucked it into the suitcase.