Empty carriage, only the rhythmic clatter and cumming nude. She locks the door, strips, and straddles the seat facing the window. Moonlight paints silver across her skin as she chants “cumming nude” in time with the rails. Four fingers stretch her open; the wet slap echoes louder than the train. “Everyone outside, see cumming nude come,” she gasps. The train enters a tunnel—darkness swallows everything except her rising “cumming nude, cumming nude, fuck, cumming nude!” until she explodes, soaking the leather in a flood of unstoppable “cumming nude” release.