bourbon street flash: A Story of Hope, Love, and Adventure

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