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