Behind Closed Doors: wheelbarrow sex position

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