Rage Against the Latrine Ch. 21

We ate at the hotel restaurant, and our server payed particular interest in my fiancée. After I paid the bill for our food, she watched as we moved into the bar next to the dining hall. We ordered several alcoholic drinks as Ruslana installed the app for her dating subscription and giggled as she wrote a sordid description to advertise herself. The middle-aged slut used photographs taken from her new "photography" hobby to enhance her profile.

When I saw the barmaid eye us, I went over to get more drinks. The golden-haired, diminutive waif's smile wavered as I placed my order. "You've been watching Natasha all evening. Are you a fan of the band?" 

Her hazel eyes flashed as she looked up at me, spilling the top of Natasha's lager as she blushed. "I was at the show last night," she admitted in her common regional accent, and I nodded. "It was amazing." 

"I'll send Nats up to get the next round in, then. You can get an autograph or more!"

I said nothing to my partner as I carried the tray of drinks to our table. Twenty minutes later, my fiancée grumbled when I sent her to the bar, but she sat and spoke to the young woman, laughing as they chatted. The barmaid beamed. 

"Anne's coming over when her fucking shift ends," Natasha explained when she rejoined us, swaying as she carried the tray of drinks. "She's a fan. And I wanna see what her cunt tastes like." 

Ruslana chuckled. "That's my girl!" 

Fifteen minutes later, Anne approached the table nervously, still dressed in her unflattering burgundy and white waitress uniform. Natasha warmly welcomed her and poured her a glass of rose wine from our bottle. "John, my filthy fiancé. Ruslana, my mother, and a complete slut. Conan, my mum's bit on the side," my lover introduced.

Anne blushed; her innocent expression showed an excited uncertainty. She pushed her golden hair behind her shoulders and wiped the corners of her mouth. 

Natasha flirted. Her hands wandered and freely touched the short woman, sat next to her, and she glanced longingly at the barmaid. My fiancée deliberately steered the conversation into lewdness, and Anne fidgeted in her seat, gulping the alcoholic drink which Natasha had bought for her. 

Ruslana whined about the lack of single men in the bar. "Mr Grounds is due in today. He stays most Saturdays and flies out from the airport on Sundays. He always arrives around now, gets a takeaway delivered and then often has a different lady visit him before bedtime. If you speak to reception, Jakub will tell you what room he is in."

Natasha's mother smirked and rose from the table. "I'll ask on my way back from the toilet," she told us. We continued to drink and chatter. Ruslana didn't return, and my fiancée's seduction of the 22-year-old waitress intensified.

"We'll go upstairs to the fucking suite after we've finished this bottle," she explained. "Join us. Enjoy yourself. I've got some merch in my room and I'll sign it for you."

"I get a lift home with Jazz. If she dain't mind, then I can come," she promised, downing the dregs of wine in her glass.

"Do. It's fun. I need a wicked piss," she broadcast, and looked at me. "C'mon on." She glanced at Anne. "You know what happened in Bristol, right?"

Anne's eyes widened, and she gulped. "Oh, God!"

"Come visit our room," Natasha said as she rose from her seat. "As much fun as you want. No pressure." The barmaid nodded as we left, typing a message on her phone.

We saw no sign of Ruslana as the three of us walked to our suite and my partner pulled me into the bathroom. My clothes became a crumpled heap on the floor as my lover pushed me into the shower, and I slid down the cold, tiled wall to sit on the tray. I looked up at her, kicking her trousers across the room, and watched in excitement as her hairless slit perched inches from my nose.

I smelt her arousal. I saw the glistening alabaster skin, folded neatly and invitingly. She was too far from me, as I wanted to taste her sweaty, aroused crack and run my tongue over her delicious nub. I longed for her quivering body and domineering activities as my mouth worshipped my coquettish fiancée. 

Instead, she groaned as she hovered a few inches away from my skin and leant forward. I licked my lips, staring at her slit, awaiting the inevitable. It felt like a lifetime as the moment lingered. 

Then it came; a flood of pee fired from her bladder, jettisoning into my face and chin. I scooped up mouthfuls of the watery pungent nastiness. When she was not touring, gulping piss as she coated me in her waste, was a daily treat. I had missed it. 

Acidic, harsh, vile filth washed over me. I felt humiliated and submissive. Dirty and disgusting. A shameless, nasty pig. And I felt alive. My body swam as I luxuriated in the bitter stench of Natasha's piss smashing into my skin.

Her hand shook the final few drops free from her slit, and she walked away from me without looking back. My face and body, drenched with her cooling pee, and I said nothing as she returned, holding one of her purchases. 

Natasha handcuffed my wrists to a loop of cold water piping, just above the shower tray; my hands forced behind my back. "Wait there," she ordered, and blew me a kiss as she left the room.

I may have stayed immobile for ten minutes or an hour; time had little meaning as Natasha's urine dried on my skin. The stench filled my nostrils as I expected more. My ears strained and my eyes squinted. My mind twisted every morsel of sound from the bedroom as I waited for Natasha to return.

Female voices and laughter wafted through the wall, twisting my anticipation. I licked my lips, running my tongue through the dried, sticky pee on my skin and tasting the strong, bitter taste as I waited. My cock stiffened as the door flung open. 

Framed in the doorway was Anne, wearing just a pair of thick cotton briefs. Her eyes scorched as she looked at me, swigging from a bottle of beer. She was gorgeous. A short, lithe woman with flawless skin and wavy hair advanced on me. Her pert breasts bounced as a slow smile crept over her face. 

"Anne and Jazz only heard about the band after I pissed over you," Natasha explained from the doorway as Anne slid her underwear to the floor. "And they want the full Bitches Against experience. Fucking open up!" 

I gulped as the barmaid entered the shower cubicle, turned towards the door, and squatted, pressing her derriere into my face. Smooth, supple skin of her buttocks squashed against me. I had met Anne for the first time a couple of hours previously and Natasha had guided the shy woman into humiliating and degrading me. 

My lips kissed her splayed slit as she bent forward, sliding her legs further apart. My tongue ran over her clit and her feminity as she sighed and released the pressure on her bladder.

Fiery, caustic, sunflower yellow piss hit my top lip, making my eyes water. Anne's waste was intense, and she was a little dehydrated. Her tart, fetid expulsion was too harsh and potent to gulp mouthfuls, but I drank and tasted some of her vile sewage as most of it flowed over my chin and onto my chest.

It smelt repulsive and cloying. My cock sparkled as the warm effluent tickled my shaft and I suffered the ignominy of Anne's golden shower. As she finished, the young waitress glanced over her shoulder, and her disdainful smirk screamed volumes. 

I had never met Jazz until that moment. But as Anne left the stinking en-suite, a thin naked beauty passed her. As tall as me, with deep chocolate brown skin, and dark, braided hair. Jewellery sparkled around her throat as she padded to me. 

There was a simple elegance to her. A graceful, alluring, intoxicating charm, as she wordlessly put her feet on either side of the shower tray, and maintained eye contact with me. Her hands pulled at her slit as her soft yellow stream sprayed from her.

Instinctively, I tasted it. My tongue lapped at the fountain, tumbling from the stranger's snatch. She sniggered at my humiliation, supping and enjoying the taste of her piss that washed over my face and my body.

My lust swelled as I drank and savoured her elixir. Delicious honey from the black newcomer as she fired her waste over me. A wondrous champagne that sizzled on the nose, burnt the back of my throat, and tickled my arousal. 

Her flow ebbed, and I wanted more. I needed it. I had to stroke my cock and bury my lips in her snatch. The denial of her cunt was torture. She backed away from me. "You're a dirty, dirty boy!" she told me in a deep, foreign accent. 

I swilled the last of her acidic honey around my mouth as the overwhelming stench of female piss scorched my eyes. I was in a mess.

And I became more of one a few moments later when Ruslana staggered into the bathroom. She discarded her underwear in front of the shower and perched herself on my face. 

Cum leaked from her snatch onto me. The products of her latest marital betrayal seeped from her cheating cunt and smeared over my nose as the middle-aged woman sighed. 

"I need this," she whimpered as a powerful stream of piss landed directly on my lips. "Taste it!" She needlessly demanded as I filled my mouth with her pee. My tastebuds, already overloaded with the piquant nastiness of Natasha, Anne and Jazz, had the acerbic elixir of Ruslana to process. I groaned into her jet as my stomach had another influx of pee.

But Ruslana's bladder barely stopped. Her waste flowed over the sides of my mouth as her spray coated me. Her gaze said everything - I was a horny, nasty pig wallowing in filth. But I loved it, and Ruslana lowered her creamy pussy over my lips. 

"Clean me. Natasha said you eat creampies now."

Of course I did. My tongue scooped the dripping cum from the cheating strumpet's cunt, sucking it into my throat as my mouth tickled and caressed her slit. Her hands gripped the back of my head and pressed my face into her sodden snatch. "Oh, that's nice."

She mewed as I ate her out. She squealed and quivered as my tongue danced over her pissy, creamy, messy slit. Ruslana groaned and muttered as my mouth worked her cunt. Taking her towards her climax. She panted and ground her snatch into my face, before her thighs trembled and shook. 

She sighed and stepped back, looking me in the eyes. Her left hand reached into the sink and she squatted beside me, holding the key between her thumb and forefinger. She unfastened my wrists. "Clean yourself, and come inside," she ordered in the same tone of domination that her daughter gave. 

I did as she commanded, washing the pee away from my skin and hair and coating my body in mint shower gel before entering the bedroom. My fiancée was on our bed with her face into Jazz's cunt, while Anne's fingers danced over Natasha's clit. Conan and Ruslana were snogging against the wall, beside a considerable amount of alcohol. My mother-in-law-to-be glanced over at me and beckoned me towards them. Her hands pushed me onto their mattress. 

Ruslana's lips caressed my erect prick. It felt so wrong and so incredible as the elder woman slid her mouth over my shaft. Conan passed her a condom as the amazing fellatrix deep-throated me. 

Her tongue worked my frenulum, her lips glided over my prick as the experienced slut caused my dick to sparkle. She made eye contact with me as her hands replaced her mouth and she rolled the latex sheath over my stiff cock. 

With her eyes watching her daughter, she climbed onto me and slid her cunt over my covered prick. Cowboy. 

I watched Ruslana's breasts sway and heave as she bucked her hips, and her wide, beaming expression as she screwed her daughter's fiancée. Her hands swept over my body and I flicked her nipples as we screwed. My fingers danced over her erect points and fondled her torso as Ruslana fucked me.

My prick roasted with arousal; her eyes simmered with lust. Her frantic motions of her hips as my climax neared. She saw it in my expression as I groaned and grunted.

And filled the condom.

The taboo nastiness intensified the orgasm and the sex. I panted as my body expelled cum into the teat of the prophylactic and I slouched on the bed. "I understand why you are so popular in your photography group!" I joked, and she giggled.

It took twenty minutes to fill the jacuzzi, and by then, everyone had moved from the beds and into the whirlpool. We relocated the drinks on the shelf beside the tub and sat in the six-person gurgling bath, laughing and giggling like schoolkids. "Who's cum did I eat?" I asked Ruslana. "Was it Conan's?"

Natasha's mother blushed. "No. I got the room number off Jakub and saw the salesman. He'd only just arrived, and I said I charged £25 per orgasm, and he bust his nut in condoms three times. One in each hole. So I went to the bar and bought us some wine and beer, and then I let Jakub screw me in the office. He's not had sex for almost a year."

"Mum. You are such a fucking slut," Natasha drunkenly said as the two hotel employees glanced at each other. 

"I know. Where do you think you get it from?" I sniggered at my partner's scowl.

"D'ya mean geeky Jakub, from reception?" Anne asked.

"Oh, yes!" Ruslana raised her glass. "And his shift finishes in an hour and he's never done anal. Ever. So he's going to come here." The grandmother's eyes met Anna and Jazz. "Wanna watch? Or help? He has a nice, meaty prick. I'll share."

"Oh my God," Anne muttered. "You're mad!"

"Yeah. But life's too short to be celibate," Ruslana airily replied. "Don't you think?"

Judging by the expression on Anne's face, she wholeheartedly agreed. Even if she didn't want to admit it.