Behind the Romance: romantic love making clips

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