Elena stormed through the office building, her bladder screaming after back-to-back meetings. Every restroom she hit had nothing but cold, impersonal urinals lining the walls. 'Damn it,' she muttered, sweat beading on her brow. Spotting a janitor mopping nearby, she approached with fire in her eyes. 'You there—where's a proper toilet? I'm about to explode.' The janitor, Mike, smirked. 'These are it, lady. Take your pick.' Elena's voice sharpened, witty and unyielding. 'Listen closely, because my anatomy isn't up for debate. I don't have a cock to whip out and aim like you do with that hard thing between your legs. I've got a pussy—a bald, sensitive pussy that requires sitting or squatting. If I tried standing at one of those, I'd spray everywhere, soaking my huge white ass and panties in the process. No splash guard for this equipment, got it?' Tears welled as desperation peaked, her voice cracking. 'I'm crying here because it hurts so bad, and you're not helping!' Mike shrugged, oblivious. Furious and strong, Elena dashed into the stall, yanking down her pants and panties. Her huge white ass gleamed under the lights, bald pussy exposed as she positioned at the urinal like a man and peed furiously, the stream hissing out in relief. Mike's eyes widened, his cock hardening visibly. Elena caught it, turning horny despite herself. 'That bulge in your pants? Makes my pussy wet and dripping. Come here.' Panting, she dropped to give him a slick blowjob, tongue working his cock until he groaned. Sweating and panting, she stood, guiding his hard length into her wet pussy. They fucked wildly against the urinal—her strong hips grinding, ass slapping as she came hard, milking his cum deep inside. 'That's how you handle a real woman,' she quipped with a sly grin.
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