Tales of Sensual Beauty in audrey drake graham

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