Discovering Intimate Hidden Desire in what is a fem queen

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