Sinful Express 2

We’re still on the Sinful Express and Nikki’s turn has finally arrived. Her husband just got the full treatment from Lady Lyne, and now it’s her night. She’s sprawled on that red velvet sofa, legs apart, chest still heaving, watching the two of them catch their breath. Nikki doesn’t wait long. She swings a leg over Lyne’s lap, yanks the silk tie from the other woman’s throat, and grins when Lyne smirks back at her. Nikki reaches down, grips the strap-on harness Lyne still wears, and lines it up. She sinks onto it in one steady drop, lips parting around a soft, surprised laugh because damn, Lyne fills her fast and deep. The two of them start moving, no polite introductions, just hungry rolls of hips and the wet slap of skin meeting skin. Her husband watches from the chair across the aisle, fingers still slick, still hard again, the passing train lights strobe across every thrust. Nikki talks through it—teasing, dirty, exactly what she wants next—and every filthy promise sends another jolt through her. Lyne meets every word, pounding up into her while Nikki’s fingers dig into the velvet. It’s loud, messy, fast, the kind of ride that leaves knees weak and everyone laughing by the end.