Take A Ride On The Trans Train #04 - Andylynn Payne, Avery Lust & Adira Allure

Adira Allure cruised an empty stretch of blacktop, the desert sun hammering her windshield, when she spotted them—two women walking the shoulder, shoulders tight, thumbs low. Andylynn Payne and Avery Lust looked like bad decisions waiting for fuel. She pulled over, smoke still curling from the vents, and popped the locks. "Need a ride?" The pair scrambled in without asking twice, too grateful to check their instincts. Their last lift, they muttered, had wandering hands and breath like acid; they bailed at the first red light and hoped for better luck. Adira gave them a crooked grin and nailed the throttle, promising nothing but the address they'd named. They slumped back, tension melting. Hours melted with it. Sagebrush whipped past. Windows down, music low, the conversation slipped into sharper territory—thighs brushing, eyes in mirrors, the steady promise of nowhere in sight. When she finally rolled up to their drop-off, the girls didn’t reach for the door. Instead Andylynn traced a fingertip over the gearshift, and Avery leaned in close. "Figure you ought to get something in return," Andylynn said. "We’re giving you the ride now," Avery added, lips curling. "On the trans train. Hop in."