The Beauty of Desire in butterfly sex doll

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