Chapter 884: Pee For Me, Auntie 3

She was screaming nonstop now—head thrown back, throat exposed, tears streaming down her temples—every thrust punching another filthy moan out of her. Her asshole gripped me like a velvet fist—rippling, fluttering, spasming in helpless waves as another massive squirt exploded from her cunt, soaking my thighs, the toilet lid, the floor.

The wet slap-slap-slap of skin on skin mixed with the obscene squelching from her stuffed ass and the hissing spray of her release.

I leaned in, mouth finding her neck—biting down hard enough to leave marks—while one hand slid between us to pinch and twist her swollen clit.

That was the final trigger.

Her whole body locked up—back arching so violently the toilet lid creaked beneath her—asshole clamping down in violent, milking pulses that dragged me right to the edge.

"CUMMMING—CUMMMING IN MY ASS—FILL MY ASS—BREED MY FUCKING ASSHOLE—OH GOD—YESSS—SPURT INSIDE ME—FLOOD MY GUTS—MAKE ME LEAK FOR DAYS—AAAAAHHHH!!!"

I slammed in one last time—buried to the absolute hilt—and erupted.

Thick, scalding ropes blasted straight into her bowels—pulse after heavy pulse—flooding her rectum until I could feel the pressure building, her lower belly swelling slightly under my palm as I pressed down over her pubic mound.

"TAKE IT—FUCK—TAKE EVERY DROP IN YOUR ASS—FEEL ME BREEDING YOUR GUTS—"

"YESSSSS—I FEEL IT—YOUR CUM IS SPURTING SO DEEP—SO HOT—SO MUCH—MY ASS IS FULL—MY ASS IS FUCKING FULL OF YOUR LOAD—OHHHH GOD—I’M SHAKING—I’M STILL SQUIRTING—FUCK—FUCK—I’M YOUR ANAL SLUT—AUNTIE’S YOUR DIRTY ANAL WHORE—AAAAAHHHH!!!"

Her final orgasm tore through her—body convulsing, squirting in weak, trembling jets now as her asshole milked me dry, drawing out every last thick spurt deep into her stuffed bowels.

Gabriela’s screams had dissolved into ragged, hiccuping gasps. Her head lolled against my shoulder, sweat-slick hair plastered to her cheek, mouth open in a silent, shattered O.

Every muscle in her body was trembling—thighs quivering around my hips, toes curling uselessly against the porcelain rim, her ruined cunt still twitching with aftershocks, leaking the last pathetic dribbles of clear fluid onto the already-drenched toilet lid.

I stayed buried inside her for one final, possessive heartbeat—feeling the slow, exhausted flutter of her asshole around my softening cock, the obscene warmth of my cum sloshing deep in her guts. Then I began to withdraw.

Slow at first—inch by slick, cum-coated inch—until just the swollen head remained, stretching her abused ring wide. Her sphincter clung desperately, fluttering like it didn’t want to let go.

I pulled the rest of the way out with one deliberate tug.

A loud, wet pop echoed off the tiles—the unmistakable sound of a well-fucked asshole releasing its prize.

Instantly, thick white ropes of my cum flooded out of her gaping hole in a slow, obscene cascade. It poured in heavy, viscous strands—first dripping, then gushing—running down the cleft of her ass, coating her perineum, sliding over her swollen pussy lips, and finally splattering onto the toilet lid beneath her spread thighs.

The hole itself stayed open—perfectly molded to the shape of my cock, a dark, glistening oval that winked helplessly with every aftershock tremor running through her pelvis.

You could see straight inside her: pink inner walls glistening with lube and semen, the deeper tunnel still pulsing faintly, trying to close but too wrecked to manage it yet.

Gabriela let out a broken, mortified whimper at the sensation—the sudden emptiness, the humiliating rush of warmth leaking from her most private place.

"Ohhh... God... it’s... it’s coming out... so much..." Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, cracking on every word.

Her legs gave out completely then—knees buckling inward, body starting to fold forward like a marionette with cut strings.

I caught her instantly—both arms banding around her waist, hauling her upright against my chest so her weight rested fully on me. Her full breasts crushed against my ribs, nipples still painfully hard, scraping my skin with every shuddering breath she took.

I could feel the rapid hammer of her heart against mine, the slick heat of her dripping ass pressing against my thigh as more cum continued to trickle out in lazy pulses.

"Easy, Auntie," I murmured against her temple, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading through damp hair. "I’ve got you. You’re not collapsing on my watch."

She clung to me—nails digging weakly into my shoulders, face buried in the crook of my neck. Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks, mixing with the sweat already there. But they weren’t just from shame or overstimulation anymore; there was something softer underneath, something raw and grateful.

"I... I can’t believe..." she whispered, voice trembling. "I let you... in the hospital... with him right outside... and I... I came so hard... I pissed myself... I squirted... I screamed like a whore..."

Her asshole gave another weak clench—pushing out another thick glob of cum that slid down her inner thigh in a slow, warm trail.

I kissed the salty corner of her mouth, then her jaw, then lower—nipping gently at the pulse point beneath her ear.

"You didn’t just let me," I said, voice low and rough. "You begged for it. You milked every drop. You squirted so hard the floor’s still soaked. And you loved every filthy second."

A tiny, broken sob-laugh escaped her. Her hips gave one small, involuntary roll—grinding her leaking ass against my thigh like her body was already missing the fullness.

"I... I did," she admitted, so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. "I hate that I did... but I did."

I shifted my grip—sliding one hand down to cup the curve of her ass, thumb brushing feather-light over the still-gaping rim. She hissed at the contact—too sensitive—but didn’t pull away. Instead, she pressed back just a fraction, chasing the touch.

"Shhh," I soothed. "You’re perfect like this. Ruined. Full of me. Leaking my cum all over this dirty bathroom floor while Diaz sleeps in the next room."

Her breath hitched again—half sob, half moan.

We stepped out of the steamy bathroom together, skin still flushed and damp from the shower. The new clothes from

SUDIX Store

—soft black linen shirt and tailored trousers for me, a simple yet elegant charcoal wrap dress for Gabriela—fit like they’d been waiting for us.

She kept smoothing the fabric over her hips with trembling fingers, glancing down at herself as thighs that were still trembling.

Gabriela froze as I bought Shadow Guards and assigned them to protect Gabriela.

Four tall, silent figures materialized from the darkness near the walls: featureless silhouettes in matte black tactical gear, faces obscured by smooth obsidian masks.

They didn’t move. They didn’t breathe audibly. They simply were—stationary sentinels, eyes glowing faintly crimson behind the masks.

Gabriela’s hand flew to her mouth. "Jack... what—"