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