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