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