Behind the Fantasy: search engine for porn

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