Chapter 13: The Flood Gates Open

I rested the vibrator tip at her moist slit and turned it on low. Eliza whimpered and shook, as juice leaked down the vibrator, onto my hand, and a few drops fell to the floor. Her musk, her moans, and her unstable body had me worried about what might happen when I pushed in the vibrator. Scuffling sounds and suppressed giggles came from outside the stall. I moved the tip in, and a tightness resisted, but the moisture allowed the metal vibrator to penetrate almost halfway.

Eliza screamed and thrashed, but I managed to hold onto her foot. I forgot about my dildo and butt plug and lust as I concentrated on Eliza. Her pussy lips wrapped around the silver rod like they wanted to both, push it out, and suck it in. Her butt and leg muscles clenched, stretched her pale skin tight. The vibrator slipped deeper inside, and her scream grew.

She shuddered and thrashed her hips, which caused the vibrator to slide deeper and deeper until she had fully engulfed it. My fingers pressed against her warm pussy lips, as her moisture made it hard to hold the ridged red end. Her clit pushed out from her pubic hair like a tiny penis, and I hoped the fans could see what I could, as my focus had to remain on the vibrator and her foot. I didn’t want her to fall, nor did I want to lose the vibrator inside her. The vibrations matched her trembles, and her scream switched to a deep moan.

She bounced down on the vibrator and my fingers slipped inside her and strained to hold the end of the vibrator as her pussy ate the silver rod. Her sloppy pussy lips spread as her pubic hair scratched against my knuckles. She shook, moaned, twisted, and pushed down on the slick, gooey, metal rod. Sweat joined her juices, and the drips increased.

I increased the vibration to medium speed. I wanted to raise it higher, but my fingers slipped, and I couldn’t twist the vibrator’s end dial the full amount. Her eyes closed, her mouth opened, and with hair plastered to her forehead, her body shook. I focused on her stability, her foot pushed against the stall wall, and cracks radiated from the placement. My hand on her other foot squeezed tight, as her sweat made it a challeng to get a solid grip, while my other hand on her pussy added a third support position. She responded with another scream before she turned back to moans.

The girl in the next stall added her moans, a cacophony of the pussy liquid slosh, vibrator buzz, groans, and giggles from the central part of the washroom drowned out the rest of the world. Eliza’s scent grew sour like vinegar poured into a frying pan. Acidic and pungent, it made my eyes water and sting. I wanted to wipe them, I wanted to check the camera angle, but I could only focus on Eliza’s stability, the tremble of her thigh, and her red, blood-engorged pussy, that spread inches from my nose. The walls reflected the multiple moans and caused them to overlap and create a multi-level symphony.

I fumbled, managed to switch the vibrator to full speed, and Eliza screamed. A full-throat scream that echoed around the washroom, hurt my ears, and must have escaped the room. A scream that reflected from the walls and ceiling and made my ears ring even after she gasped for air. The pressure burst my right ear drum.

Eliza jerked up and forward, her juice squirted, like a shower, over the stall barriers to soak those outside, my hair, nose, cheek, chin, shirt, shoulder, arm, and floor. Watery, with a faint chlorine, almost odorless, smell. Her pussy lips fluttered, her legs shook, and she held her breath.

She jerked, and I had to drop the vibrator to hold her up. My fingers wide on her ass. I tried to stabilize her. The silver rod fell and just missed my phone screen. Eliza continued to leak, not a flood, but multiple drops, like a broken shower nozzle.

With a moan, Elize stilled, then jerked her hips forward before her body slumped. Her left foot on the stall divider held the left half of her body while I held up the right side. The blue stall divider pinged as the metal bent around her foot.

“Eliza, what are you doing? Classes have started,” Teacher Jones said from the doorway. Eliza shuddered with another petite orgasm. I shuffled my feet to keep her up and keep her spread apple-red pussy visible on the camera feed. I didn’t care about Teacher Jones, though I imagined her round face flushed red with what she walked in on. Eliza’s naked body, covered in sweat, above the stall, her legs wide to give the room, and the camera, a fantastic view of her abused, angry, pussy. My hand held her ass as if to shove it inside. The other girls rushed out of the washroom in a fury of giggles, apologies, and positive comments about Eliza’s show.