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