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