Tales of Secret Desire in luke long

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