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