Captivating Allure: riled up and hoed down

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