Pissing in Man’s Mouth, Lick Hairy Pussy after Pee

Title: The Golden Delights of a Hairy, Piss-Drenched Pussy

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with anticipation. She sat upon the throne, a facilitator of one’s most depraved desires. Her hair, a cascade of ebony waves, framed a face that was beauty personified – sculpted cheekbones, full, pouty lips, and eyes that held oceans of untold secrets. She was a goddess, a mistress of carnal pleasures, and she was about to indulge in her favorite pastime – soaking her faithful subject in a golden shower of her own making.

He knelt before her, a mere mortal bound by the shackles of lust and obedience. His eyes were fixated on the tuft of dark hair peeking between her thighs, a hairy pussy waiting to be worshipped. She shifted slightly, spreading her legs to expose the glistening folds of her clean, hairy pussy. His mouth watered at the sight, craving a taste of her ambrosia.

“Lick,” she commanded, her voice a seductive purr. He obeyed without hesitation, burying his face between her thighs, lapping at her sweet nectar like a starving man at a feast. His tongue delved deep into her folds, savoring every inch of her delicious cunt.

As he continued to feast upon her pussy, she felt the urge building within her. Her bladder was full, aching for release. She guided his head, positioning him directly beneath her, ready to receive her gift. With a sigh of satisfaction, she let go, a steady stream of golden piss cascading from her hairy pussy, directly into his waiting mouth.

He gulped down every drop, relishing the warm, salty liquid as it filled his mouth and slid down his throat. The scent of her urine mingled with the sweet aroma of her pussy, creating an intoxicating perfume that clouded his senses. He drank greedily, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy as he gorged himself on her nectar and piss.

As her stream subsided, she resins herself from his grasp, a Cheshire grin plastered on her face. She stood up, positioning herself directly over his mouth, her pussy mere inches from his face. With a wicked glint in her eye, she reached down, her fingersburying in his hair, pulling his face closer to her cunt.

“Clean me,” she demanded, “worship every inch of my piss-soaked pussy.” He needed no further encouragement. He licked and lapped, tracing the contours of her vulva, savoring the unique blend of flavors that danced upon his tongue. He rimmed her pussy lips, teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue, coaxing moans of pleasure from her lips.

His tongue delved deep into her cunt, swirling around her opening, scooping up every last drop of her piss. He lapped at her folds like a dog at an water bowl, relishing the tangy, slightly bitter taste of her golden shower. He traced the line of her urethra, savoring the essence of her very being.

As he worshipped her pussy, she ground her hips against his face, riding his tongue like a skilled equestrian. Her moans grew louder, her body trembling with the building force of her impending climax. He could feel her thigh muscles clench around his head, her grip on his hair growing tighter as she approached the pinnacle of ecstasy.

With a final cry of pleasure, she came undone, her pussy convulsing against his mouth, flooding his face with her juices. He drank deeply, swallowing every drop of her sweet ambrosia, desperate to savor the essence of her orgasm.

As her climax subsided, she released her grip on his hair, a look of smug satisfaction on her face. She surveyed her handiwork – his face, glistening with her piss and pussy juices, a testament to her domination over him. She had reduced him to nothing more than her personal toilet, her piss-drenched plaything.

“You may leave,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain, “but don’t forget to clean up before you go. I won’t have you tracking piss all over my castle.”

He nodded, scrambling to his feet, his face flushed with a mix of humiliation and pride. He had served his mistress well, had drunk from the fountain of her piss and pussy, and had been rewarded with the essence of her climax. He knew that he would return, ready to kneel before her once more and worship her hairy pussy, eager to be used as her personal piss receptacle.

And so, the cycle continued, a ritual of depravity and degradation that bound them together, a testament to the power of a mistress and her faithful, pissing toilet. For in the world of love and Ban Българянски edanya, such perversions were not only tolerated but celebrated, embraced as a means of fulfilling one’s darkest, most taboo desires.

In the end, it was a symbiotic relationship, a dance of dominance and submission that satisfied the base, primal urges of two lovers. She got to indulge in her craving for control, for the power to defile and degrade, while he got to fulfill his fantasies of being used as a human toilet, a receptable for the golden nectar of his mistress.

And as he left her chamber, his face still sticky with the evidence of their depraved activities, he couldn’t help but smile, already anticipating the next time he would kneel before her, ready to worship her hairy, piss-soaked pussy once more.