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