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