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