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