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