My First Forbidden Glimpse: The Train That Broke My Innocence
Another damn congress. Gotta show my face, sell my turf, network with colleagues and vendors. I aimed for car 12, seat 92, per the ticket. But then I spotted her—a fresh-faced blonde in a flowing skirt. I faked my seat was across from hers. Perfect view. Discreet. I could pretend to read and scribble notes,…