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