The Sensual Appeal of tied up and tickled feet

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