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