Chapter 883: Pee For Me, Auntie 2

I hooked my thumb harder, pulling back just enough to stretch the ring outward before shoving in again—slow, deliberate fucking motions now, no more than an inch or two, but enough to massage directly against the swollen base of her bladder.

Her knees buckled. I caught her weight with my free arm around her waist, pinning her upright so she couldn’t escape the violation.

"Let it go," I whispered, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Let me feel how full you are. How desperate."

A broken whimper. Her nails dug into my shoulders.

I added a second finger—index sliding in alongside the thumb—stretching her asshole wider. The sudden extra girth made her gasp so sharply it almost sounded like a sob. Her pelvic muscles fluttered wildly, fighting the intrusion, but every clench only rubbed her sensitive inner walls against my knuckles.

Another hot spurt escaped her pussy—longer this time, hissing faintly against the tile between her feet. She tried to squeeze her thighs together; I forced them wider with my knee.

"No hiding," I told her softly. "I want to see it. Every drop."

Her head fell back against my shoulder. Tears leaked from the corners of her closed eyes. "I—I can’t stop it—Jack—I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—"

"Don’t be sorry." I pumped my fingers slowly now—three shallow thrusts—each one pressing ruthlessly against that overfull spot inside her. "Just let go for me."

Her body gave one last, heroic shudder of resistance.

Then the dam broke.

A hard, hissing stream erupted from her urethra—golden and scalding—splashing noisily against the floor, arcing out in an uncontrollable jet that soaked my jeans, the tiles, the base of the toilet. She screamed into the heel of her own hand, the sound muffled and frantic. Her asshole spasmed rhythmically around my buried fingers—clenching, releasing, clenching again—as if trying to milk the shame right out of her.

I kept fucking her ass through it—slow, steady, matching the helpless pulsing of her sphincter. Each contraction dragged another gush from her bladder. The stream weakened, stuttered, but every time she thought it was over, I curled my fingers again and another hot spurt would jerk out of her, accompanied by a fresh, humiliated sob.

"Look at you," I breathed, voice thick with hunger. "Pissing yourself because I’ve got two fingers stuffed up your tight little asshole. You’re shaking so hard, Auntie... feels good, doesn’t it?"

She could only whimper—wordless, broken sounds. Her free hand clawed at my forearm, not to push me away, but to hold on as the last trembling trickles ran down her inner thighs.

When the stream finally tapered to a few pathetic drips, her legs gave out completely.

I caught her, lowered her gently so she straddled the closed lid, thighs still spread obscenely wide. My fingers stayed buried inside her—still, now, letting her feel the stretch, the fullness, the lingering heat.

She was crying quietly—shoulders trembling, face buried against my neck. But when I finally eased my fingers out—slow, so she felt every slick inch dragging free—her hips gave one tiny, involuntary buck, chasing the loss.

I brought my wet hand to her lips.

"Taste," I ordered softly.

Her eyes fluttered open—glassy, dazed. She hesitated only a heartbeat before parting her lips. I slid my thumb across her tongue; she closed around it immediately, sucking weakly, tasting herself—salt, musk, shame.

"Good girl," I murmured, kissing her temple. "Now you’re going to sit right here, legs open, dripping on this lid while I fuck your ass until you come again. And you’re not allowed to hide your face this time."

Her breath hitched.

She nodded—small, trembling, utterly surrendered.

I had turned her around again after that first brutal entry into her ass. No more sink. No more bending over porcelain. I wanted her facing me—wanted to watch every filthy expression as I ruined her completely.

She was straddling the toilet lid now, legs forced wide apart, feet braced on the cool edge of the bowl itself so her hips hovered just above the plastic seat. Her ruined cunt gaped slightly from earlier abuse, still leaking thin trickles of her own squirt mixed with the remnants of my earlier loads, but it was her asshole I was claiming now—stretched obscenely around the thick base of my cock, the dark ring pulled taut and shiny with lube and her own slick.

I gripped her hips—fingers digging into the soft flesh just above her hipbones—and pulled her down hard while I thrust up.

One long, merciless slide.

All the way to the hilt.

My cock disappeared completely inside her bowels in a single, burning thrust—balls mashed tight against the wet cleft of her ass, pubic bone grinding against her stretched perineum. The sudden fullness made her lower belly bulge faintly outward; I could see the obscene outline of my cock pressing up from inside her guts.

Gabriela’s entire body seized.

Her mouth flew open in a silent scream at first—eyes rolling straight back, whites showing, lashes fluttering wildly. She tried so hard to hold it in. Jaw clenched. Throat working. Nails raking bloody furrows down my forearms as she fought to keep the sound locked behind her teeth.

But she couldn’t.

The dam broke almost instantly.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH—FUCK—FUCK—YOUR COCK IS ALL THE WAY IN MY ASS—TO THE HILT—OH GOD—IT’S IN MY FUCKING GUTS—SO DEEP—SO FUCKING DEEP—YESSSSS—!"

The scream ripped out of her—high, pornographic, shameless—echoing off the tiled walls like a siren. No more dignified whimpers. No more muffled sobs. Just raw, needy, filthy noise pouring from her throat as her asshole spasmed violently around my buried length.

I haven’t moved yet. I just held her there—impaled completely—letting her feel every thick inch throbbing inside her rectum, every ridge dragging against her sensitive inner walls, the fat head lodged so deep it felt like it was pressing against her spine.

Her whole pelvis jerked involuntarily. A violent shudder ran through her.

Then—without warning—her cunt convulsed.

A hard, explosive squirt erupted from her slit—clear, forceful, arcing out in a powerful jet that splashed noisily against my lower abs, ran in hot rivulets down my balls, and puddled on the toilet lid beneath her. She squirted hard—uncontrollably—each rhythmic clench of her asshole milking my cock in perfect sync with the gushing from her pussy.

"YESSS—SQUIRTING—SQUIRTING SO HARD ON YOUR COCK—IT’S IN MY ASS—FUCK—MY ASS IS COMING—MY CUNT IS FUCKING PISSING AGAIN—AAAAAHHHH—CAN’T STOP—FUCK—FUCK—FUCKKKK!!!"

Her voice cracked into desperate, pornstar wails—every word dripping with filthy surrender. She tried to bite her lip, tried to clamp a hand over her mouth, but another brutal squirt ripped through her, and her arm fell limp, fingers splayed uselessly against my chest as more clear fluid jetted out in messy, rhythmic bursts.

I started moving then.

Short, savage thrusts—never pulling out more than a couple of inches before slamming back to the hilt—each one forcing her ass to stretch anew around my girth, each one making that faint bulge in her lower belly appear and disappear.

"OHHH GOD—DEEPER—FUCK MY ASS DEEPER—RAM IT IN—MAKE MY GUTS TAKE EVERY INCH—YESSS—YOUR BALLS ARE SLAPPING MY CUNT—FUCK—FUCK—I’M GONNA COME AGAIN—SQUIRTING—SQUIRTING ALL OVER YOU—AAAAAHHHH!!!"