There is a modern organization devoted to ribaldry known as the "Mile High Club". Admittance into this rather vulgar coterie requires one to fornicate aboard a plane in flight, though I suppose a zeppelin, hot air balloon or any other contraption that takes you and your ready erection into the stratosphere will suffice.
Of course by that measure I entered the esteemed group of aeronautical debauchees decades ago, but I wish to make note that before the Wright Brothers made it possible for spermatozoa to ejaculate into the ether, the randy man of leisure sought his mobile bacchanal on board a train!
Now then, since trains were not a mile high but in fact firmly atop the grounded rails, (unless of course your spastic fornicating caused a startled engineer to throw the locomotive off the tracks themselves), what does one call the people who conduct coitus on trains?
Rapists?
I suppose one does not have to be on board a train in order to commit rape, but that didn't stop the startled engineer from exclaiming in horror when I first rogered him from behind"
"HO! You'll cause me to derail your deranged buggerer!"
Since I immediately deduced that this stern chap lacked a sense of humor I did not orate the obvious whimsical rejoinder, namely, "Just be sure to stay on my rail mate!"
In these less jocular modern times the engineer is usually encased behind a secure door, and so risque games are reserved for conductors and ticket takers. A favorite way of mine to pass the interminable time it takes to get from Ipswich to Creamybottom is to feign sleep.
Some charlatans do this to avoid paying, hoping the conductor will pass them by. Others truly do seek slumber and leave their ticket propped up in a pocket for the conductor to collect without disturbing them.
A jocose variation of mine is to feign sleep while leaving an old ticket stub in the half opened zipper of my trousers.
You'll find that most conductors will leave that stub be, and they won't stoop low to investigate whether it is even valid or not. You have yourself some capital amusement and a free ride to boot!
Now then you may come across an adventurous rail employee who will in fact reach down and give your stub the old tuggy tug.
Lay still! Do not stir! Perhaps mumble some fancy words of approval as if you are in a pleasant delicate dream. I'd wager that that conductor is less interested in the validity of your ticket and more interested in your genitals.
Let him have his fun! After all a grope or two is worth free ride no? And if you keep your eyes closed and concentrate on your reverie that greasy fingered immoral and obese railman becomes a beautiful buxom nymph. Perhaps that dim looking angel you saw toiling away in the butcher's shop. Those prime cuts of beef she has been weened on have made her chest robust have they not?
Keep your eyes closed then, listen to the click clack of the train as it rumbles on and your belle butcher's girl gropes away.
