WARNING: MATURE CONTENT.

I had the worst day possible the following day: a big fight at work with Gary, my supervisor.

At lunchtime, a regular customer, who was normally quiet and polite, stayed for the whole afternoon. By the end of my shift, he was smashed. I'm sure he must have had a little devil with wings flying around his head because he harassed me with lurid remarks and continued to brush my backside in the pretence it was an accident. I tried hard to put it aside. They give up if you don't respond, but this guy went overboard.

He grabbed me around the waist when I brought him his umpteenth drink. To make matters worse he ran his hand under my skirt and the elastic of my knickers then pinched my bare arse. I struggled to get away. He held on tight. I yelled at him, poured his drink on his head, and then slapped him across the face. Hell broke loose with him crying innocent.

Gary tore strips off me in front of the customers. I stormed into the kitchen and accidentally knocked that night's dessert onto the floor. Gary didn't give me a chance to explain and sent me home.

I was upset when I got on the train. To make matters worse the train was full and I had to stand. I held onto one of the handles and buried my face in my upper arm and shoulder to hide my stress.

Emotions pounded in my head. I couldn't understand how it had got out of hand and why I wore the brunt of the blame.

My mind roller-coasted through the moment, trying to understand it. The train stopped and started. I wasn't aware of anything until someone took hold of my handle. Their arm went around my waist and drew me towards them. I gasped and stared up at Train Guy peering at me with concern. This caring gesture caused me to grapple with my emotions. He prized my hand from the handle, put it on his chest, and cradled my head against him. I broke down and sobbed into his shirt.

The train stopped. Train Guy took me by the hand and led me onto the platform. As we headed towards the gate, he said, "Which way?"

I sucked in another sob, wiped my hand under my nose to prevent it from dribbling and stopped walking. He looked back at me. I sucked in a breath and said, "I'm sorry. Thank you, but I'm fine to walk by myself."

He gave me an expression that said, you're kidding, right, and then said, "I'll walk you home."

Shaking my head, I murmured, "It's okay. I'm okay."

Train Guy ignored me, continued walking and repeated, "Which way?"

I swallowed my next breath and pointed when he glanced back at me. His phone rang, but he didn't answer it.

When we got to my block of units, I stopped. He looked at me and said, "Here?"

I nodded, so he said, "Which one?"

"I'm okay now," I whispered and tried to tug my hand from his grasp.

He didn't let go but said, "Are you up or down?"

A ripple of panic ran through my mind. Was I excited or anxious? Maybe it was excitement because, for some unknown reason, I answered, "Up. Number three."

Train Guy let go of my hand at my door. I fumbled with the key. He took it from me, unlocked it, and ushered me inside. He followed, closed the door behind him, made me sit at the table and brought me some water.

I watched him over the rim of my glass as he crouched and slipped off my shoes. When he was done, he gazed at me.

His phone rang again. I said, "You better answer that."

Train Guy studied my face and said, "It'll wait." He rested an arm on the table and stroked my cheek with his other hand. He drew in a big breath of air, took my glass, put it on the table, then wove his fingers in my hair and kissed me.

I froze, unable to breathe. I was stunned and a little frightened, but he continued to move his lips against mine, and before I knew it, I returned the kiss. Train Guy sighed against my mouth and then kissed me harder.

My wounded soul absorbed his tenderness. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. His hand slid under my blouse, brushed over my nipple and cupped my breast.

His lips trailed my neck. My breath caught in my throat. Then his mouth was on my breast. My body ignited in a ball of desire, sending an ache to my core. I fought for breath and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.

Train Guy lifted me and carried me to the bed. It had been a long time since I'd had a man between my knees. My animal instincts went into overdrive, making my body respond to his touch. I wanted him inside of me. I undid his jeans, and he removed my knickers.

As he pushed into me, we groaned in unison. He withdrew. When he thrust forward, I jerked as the pressure of his penis buried deep inside of me. Train Guy rolled us over, so I was on top. He made me close my legs on him, then took hold of my backside and encouraged me to slide down. Train Guy held me in place and started the most amazing rocking motion. I couldn't believe the sensations he created. I hadn't experienced anything like it before. This deep penetration caused a swell so great that I found it hard to breathe. A wave of sensation reeled from my core. When it peaked, I cried, "Oh...God!"

The sensation was so intense that it set my already delicate emotions ablaze. I couldn't believe it had the power to bring me to tears. He throbbed inside of me and groaned, "Fuck..."

When our bodies stopped pulsating and our breathing calmed, he lay on his side so we could face each other. I buried my head to hide my tears, but he lifted my chin.

He jerked onto his elbow and gushed, "Did I hurt you?"

Finding it hard to speak, I shook my head. "I...I haven't felt that before," I whispered. "It overwhelmed me."

Train Guy smiled, brushed hair behind my ear and kissed me. "Good," he said. "I'm glad I'm the first." He kissed and caressed me again. As he dragged my body under his, Nickelback blared, "Needs to hit the big screen and shoot a little love scene."

He exhaled against my mouth, laughed and murmured, "Shit...I have to change that ringtone." He dug around the floor, found his phone and said, "Croe."

He sat on the edge of the bed with his back to me. I noticed he had a tribal tattoo on his left shoulder and bicep. I studied the original tattoo, a snake that ran from his wrist, along his inner forearm and wound around above his elbow. It disappeared under his upper arm to encircle his bicep and finished with the snake's head on his shoulder.

Embarrassment flooded me when he said, "Okay...okay, I had a situation. Something came up that I couldn't ignore." He listened to the person on the other end of the line.

I hurried to alter my bra, fix my shirt and adjust my skirt.

"Yeah, I got it. I'll be there," he said. "It won't affect anything." He ended the call and turned, taking in my buttoned-up shirt before focusing on my face. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

I was so stunned at how easy I was. I couldn't speak, shocked that I'd willingly had sex with a stranger.

He touched my cheek and then stood. Every muscle rippled as he moved. The tattoos enhanced his appearance.

I focused on the bed covers and fiddled with the fabric. Well, what else could I do? I've never had a one-night stand before, let alone a thirty-minute stand. I was ashamed and embarrassed. I didn't even know his name.

Train Guy lifted my chin with the tip of his finger and kissed my mouth. He said, "I'll see you on the train."

I swallowed and nodded, unable to answer.

He smiled, touched my lips with his thumb and sighed before saying, "You're beautiful." He kissed me once more before closing the door behind him.

I sighed, flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling. What the hell had I done? Sticky wet semen trickled on my skin. Fuck. He hadn't used a condom. Knowing my luck, he was a drug addict and had given me HIV or Hepatitis.

After a million possible disease scenarios ran through my head, I rushed into the shower, scrubbed like mad, then sat on the cubicle floor and let the hot water run over me.

I dressed, then rang Belinda and told her about Train Guy.

She questioned me like an ASIO interrogator. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I don't know," I muttered. "It just happened."

"He could have murdered you, Jazz."

I couldn't answer. That was one scenario I hadn't considered.

"You know it was a dumb thing to do, don't you?" Belinda added.

I said, "How is it different to going home with someone from a club? At least I've seen him before."

"Yeah," she scoffed. "Doing a drug deal."

I couldn't hold back my fears and blurted, "He didn't even use a condom."

"Shit...!" I cringed at the sound of her voice, and then she said, "Look, it's okay, we all do dumb things." As an afterthought, she said, "He didn't force you, did he? Like you wanted to do it, didn't you?"

"Yes," I said. "Well, I didn't intend on doing it. It just happened. I liked it."

Belinda sighed. "Jeez...he must have been good. Did he have a big dick?"

"Belinda! I'm dying here," I hollered. "What kind of question is that?"

She laughed, and though I was devastated that I had allowed a stranger have sex with me, I couldn't help but laugh, too.

Jasmine, Jasmine, Jasmine. What have you done?

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Words - 1667