Delicate Emotions in dee williams will tile

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