Delicate Emotions in my kinky family

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