Lana in Heat

And then it changed. It wasn't painful any more. It was all-consuming. It was maddening. Her eyes widened in a frenzy and she searched maintenance man's as he smiled, and once again looked up at The Titanic and nodded to him. The Titanic, formerly known as ass-fucking trucker, began a full-stroke pounding rhythm that spanned at least 2 seconds from tip to balls. Every time he buried his cock in her ass, Lana thought it was going to come out through her chest cavity. She dropped. Her head was completely emptied of conscious thought. There was an ecstasy in this agony that was exquisite, and bonding, and tenderly vicious. She was floating. She didn't hear ambient sound, she didn't feel anything except for the crystal clear piston of The Titanic's epic thrusts. She started a series of interlinking orgasms that didn't end until The Titanic shot his load into her quite a while later. She was pulled back up by the sensation of warm tears dropping onto the small of her back. The Titanic was weeping openly.

The Titanic was a very shy 45-year-old man with a 12-inch double wide cock. He had never experienced full penetration before. He had never had a woman orgasm before. He had only caused pain and fear and experienced rejection and ridicule. He bent over Lana as his mass started to soften inside her and kissed her back gently, not wanting to leave. Lana was languid from the catharsis, undulating affectionately under The Teddy Bear formerly known as The Titanic.

Maintenance man offered the first break in silence.

"Bet you have to piss pretty badly, eh?" He asked Teddy, who nodded and started to pull out, but maintenance man gestured for him to stay inside Lana's ass.

"Go ahead and piss. You can stay right there, nice and warm, and use slut as your toilet."

"Oh, no, I couldn't. I just couldn't!" Teddy looked shocked and dismayed.

"Slut, would you like to feel Teddy piss inside of you?"

"Yes, Sir, I would like to be pissed in. I love to be used as a toilet, Sir."

The Teddy Bear concentrated on stifling the erection that was threatening to cut off his urethra, and tentatively began to release his urine into Lana. It was the most divine sensation he had ever experienced, and was thankful his bladder was screamingly, Big-Gulp full.

"I need to piss too, slut, and I'll bet you're thirsty." Maintenance man brought his zipper to Lana's mouth and she eagerly undid it and the button fly. Maintenance man pulled out his cock and Lana took its spongy softness into her mouth. His piss was warm and sweet, and she drank every drop of it.

"You really are a good slut, aren't you?" Maintenance man smiled at Lana. He lowered her torso to the floor next to the drain. She could smell her own stale piss there and suddenly felt like gagging. Teddy and the two "leg duty" men still had her trunk in the air with her legs spread wide, Teddy's soft cock slowly snaking its way out of her ass. The floor was cold on her tits and made her nipples hard. She started getting wet again.

"Well, there are five men here who haven't used the toilet since they woke up, so I suggest you make use of the one in front of you."

The first four of the five remaining men stood between Lana's legs at her ass and trickled their piss like a water slide down her back. By the time it reached her neck it was cool. She became hypnotised by the path it took each time, snaking around her neck and pooling off her chin onto the floor. It sounded like one of those tranquil waterfalls you see in offices.

The last man flipped Lana over onto her back, lifting her hips up to his cock and resting it on her mons. She could feel the pooled piss from the previous men soaking into her hair and suddenly this was no longer a comfy moment. She could see everyone, everything, and the cock up at her mons was like staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. And he gushed. She felt like the pool at the bottom of a raging gorge, piss traveling down her belly, between her tits and right up around her neck. And it was splashing. Splashing onto her face, her shoulders, everywhere. In that moment she took everything into her consciousness, took all the men's faces in, saw her spread naked under their hands and eyes. She came against the last pisser's balls.

Then it was all over. She was brought to her feet gently and each trucker thanked her, a couple even kissing her softly on her forehead. One of the men went to his truck and produced two clean towels and face cloth for her. She thanked him and was grateful that maintenance man was there to take them, because she wasn't quite ready to hold anything yet. Her soreness was cleansing, freeing, divine somehow. She leaned on maintenance man for support as he walked her to the men's room where there were showers for the truckers.

He bathed her, every inch of her, as though she were a rare jewel. He shampooed her hair, washed her face, underarms, soaped every inch of her, and rinsed her with soothing warm water. He massaged her as he washed, with a caring and tenderness that brought her down to soul bare. She sobbed openly. She thanked him. He smiled.

He brought her bag in from the car so she could change into clean clothes. Neither of them said a word as he walked her to her car, put her bag back in the trunk, and closed her door for her. He smiled, then turned and walked away. And that was that.

She turned back onto the highway in a daze. She couldn't listen to the radio, or her CD's. She opened the windows and felt the rush of fresh air, reveled in the dance of dappled sunlight, and felt completely, utterly, exquisitely alive.