Behind the Curtain of animated monster face: Intimate Journeys

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