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