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The Watersport Fantasies Of A Beautiful Woman free porn video
Phyllis ordered the custom-made urinal costume a week ago, and today it finally arrived. It was a strange outfit, which required the wearer to sit on the floor with their knees crossed and their arms behind their back. A heavy plastic casing was affixed to their front, looking like a large deep urinal. The face and chest of the wearer - made up in gloss white - were exposed in the bowl, and the exit pipe led to their groin area. The man who'd designed it remarked to Phyllis on the phone that it wouldn't be much fun if some bloke actually used it while she was wearing it.
How wrong he was!
A few streets away from where Phyllis lived, there was a pub, filled every night with heavy-drinking men. Late that night, she wheeled the urinal outfit round the back of the pub in a shopping trolley, and carried it through into the gents while no one was looking. Inside, she put it on the floor between two proper urinals, and squeezed herself into it. Then she waited. The long, agonising, yet strangely enjoyable wait.
After half an hour, a slightly tipsy man entered. He approached the urinals, unzipped his flies, and then said: "Hey, what's this? Is this candid camera or something?"
Phyllis kept her lips sealed. The man shrugged and then pissed in a urinal next to hers. She could only listen longingly to the trickle.
A further half hour later, another man turned up. He was obviously off his face, singing in a slurred and uneven voice. He staggered across to Phyllis's urinal, pulled his cock out, but then - as Phyllis's pulse was racing - he unaccountably shuffled to another urinal, and pissed in that and on the floor. Some of the piss reached her feet, but that was all she got. How frustrating!
Back in the pub, a group of men were talking by the bar. "Back in a minute, guys" one of them said, "I need a slash." He added: "I haven't had one all day. I'm bursting."
Moments later, this man entered the gents, where he proceeded directly to Phyllis's dummy urinal. "Oh my god, oh my god," thought Phyllis, "it's finally happening!" The unzipping of flies was heard, and then it began.
"Wa-hey" the man said, and the stream began. He unknowingly hosed Phyllis's face for a full thirty seconds, and then started moving from side to side, spraying her entire upper
body. He was drenching her! And it was all flowing down to her pussy, where it mingled with her moistness, and lapped around her thighs. She opened her mouth, and the stream began to flow in between her lips. It splashed off her tongue like a fountain.
After nearly two minutes, it finally came to an end. The man shook the last few drops over her face, and then left. "Wow!" said Phyllis out loud. She felt lucky to have not had a heart attack! When her pulse returned to normal, she took the costume off, stretched her limbs, and grudgingly left. Her night's pleasure had been had, and she was satisfied.
How wrong he was!
A few streets away from where Phyllis lived, there was a pub, filled every night with heavy-drinking men. Late that night, she wheeled the urinal outfit round the back of the pub in a shopping trolley, and carried it through into the gents while no one was looking. Inside, she put it on the floor between two proper urinals, and squeezed herself into it. Then she waited. The long, agonising, yet strangely enjoyable wait.
After half an hour, a slightly tipsy man entered. He approached the urinals, unzipped his flies, and then said: "Hey, what's this? Is this candid camera or something?"
Phyllis kept her lips sealed. The man shrugged and then pissed in a urinal next to hers. She could only listen longingly to the trickle.
A further half hour later, another man turned up. He was obviously off his face, singing in a slurred and uneven voice. He staggered across to Phyllis's urinal, pulled his cock out, but then - as Phyllis's pulse was racing - he unaccountably shuffled to another urinal, and pissed in that and on the floor. Some of the piss reached her feet, but that was all she got. How frustrating!
Back in the pub, a group of men were talking by the bar. "Back in a minute, guys" one of them said, "I need a slash." He added: "I haven't had one all day. I'm bursting."
Moments later, this man entered the gents, where he proceeded directly to Phyllis's dummy urinal. "Oh my god, oh my god," thought Phyllis, "it's finally happening!" The unzipping of flies was heard, and then it began.
"Wa-hey" the man said, and the stream began. He unknowingly hosed Phyllis's face for a full thirty seconds, and then started moving from side to side, spraying her entire upper
body. He was drenching her! And it was all flowing down to her pussy, where it mingled with her moistness, and lapped around her thighs. She opened her mouth, and the stream began to flow in between her lips. It splashed off her tongue like a fountain.
After nearly two minutes, it finally came to an end. The man shook the last few drops over her face, and then left. "Wow!" said Phyllis out loud. She felt lucky to have not had a heart attack! When her pulse returned to normal, she took the costume off, stretched her limbs, and grudgingly left. Her night's pleasure had been had, and she was satisfied.
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