Ok, folks, here's the Conclusion to the Story ... hope you enjoy?
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"Fucking whore!" I spat, wrenching her head sideways as my nails raked down her blouse, popping buttons. "Let's see those tits, you filthy cow!" The fabric tore, exposing her dark nipples straining against the flesh-colored bra.
Isha retaliated by kneeing me hard in the thigh, her free hand clawing at my skirt hem. "Enjoy your coffee stain, bitch? Wait till I rub your cxnt raw on this pissy floor!" she snarled, yanking my skirt down to my boots.
We crashed into the sinks, hips grinding as we fought for leverage. My blouse ripped open under her frantic scratching, bra straps snapping. "That all you got?" I taunted, twisting her wrist until she shrieked, then kneed her bare pussy through her thong.
"Fucking—!" she wheezed, but I silenced her with a palm smacking her right tit, the imprint glowing red on her brown skin. Our remaining clothes became weapons—her thong snapped against my inner thigh as she tried to garrote me with it, my hose tearing as she raked her heel down my calf.
"Still talking?" I hissed, twisting her bra strap around her throat from behind, her tits bouncing free as the clasp gave way. She elbowed me in the gut, gasping, then spun and clawed my thong down, fingernails leaving angry welts on my hips. "Gonna ride that toilet bowl when I'm done choking you out," I promised, kneeing her bare ass toward the stalls.
Isha lunged, catching my nipple between her nails and twisting hard. "Your red bush matches your ugly face when I'm done—" she taunted, but I headbutted her mid-sentence. Blood trickled from her nose as we crashed into the tampon dispenser, its metal edge biting into my back. Her skirt tore completely off in my grasp, heels skidding on the wet tiles as I flipped us, mounting her with my thighs vise-tight around her waist.
"Say 'sorry' nicely and I'll only break three fingers," I growled, grinding my thong clad pussy against her stomach while wrenching her arms overhead. She bucked wildly, her tits jiggling with each desperate thrash, until her knee found my cxnt—white-hot pain shot through me.
"FUCKING BITCH!", I shrieked. Furiously, I backhanded her across the mouth, her lip splitting on her teeth.
Isha spit blood, laughing wildly. "Ohhhh, you're gonna regret that, you pale-skinned slut!" She grabbed my tits, twisting hard—the pain made my knees buckle. I retaliated by digging my nails into her pussy through her ruined thong, her scream echoing off the tiles.
We rolled across the floor, legs tangling, heels scraping. My blouse hung in shreds, her bra dangled from one arm—both of us gasping, sweating, fucking feral. "Your tits look better bruised," I hissed, pinching her nipples till they purpled. She shrieked and raked her nails down my inner thighs, drawing blood.
"Beg now and I'll let you keep those panties," Isha taunted, but I headbutted her again—her nose crunched under my forehead. She reeled back, and I pounced, straddling her waist. My thong was a sodden wreck, her thong snapped around her ankle like a trophy. I slapped her tits—left, right—her dark areolas bouncing. "Still think you're hot shit?" I growled, grinding my cxnt against her hipbone.
She bucked wildly, fingers clawing at my thighs. "Your pussy smells like cheap motel carpet!" she spat, but her voice cracked when I grabbed the air freshener canister from the wall. I smashed it against the sink—plastic shards rained down—leaving the jagged nozzle exposed. "Open wide, cxnt," I hissed, driving my knee into her solar plexus. She gasped, and I wrenched her legs apart with my free hand.
Her thong snapped like tissue paper. The nozzle slid in with a wet pop—her scream turned shrill as I twisted it deeper. "Still think my bush is ugly?" I taunted, grinding it against her g-spot. Her back arched off the floor, toes curling.
"F-FUCK YOU!" she wheezed, but her thighs trembled. I slapped her clit—once, twice—until her hips jerked involuntarily.
The toilet seat cracked against the wall as I flipped her onto her stomach. "Time for your close-up, cxnt," I snarled, dragging her by the hair toward the stall. Her nails scrabbled at the tiles, legs kicking uselessly.
One sharp knee to her spine pinned her over the bowl—her tits swung like pendulums above the filthy water. I wrenched her arms back, using my torn pantyhose to hogtie her wrists. "Smile for the internet," I hissed, shoving the air freshener nozzle back into her dripping pussy.
Isha's scream dissolved into choked sobs as I twisted the plastic deeper. Her thighs quivered, toes curling in ruined heels. "Still gonna call me a bitch?" I taunted, grinding it against her swollen clit. She jerked violently, forehead slamming against the porcelain. Blood trickled from her split lip into the toilet water.
With my free hand, I grabbed her ebony mane and wrenched her head up. "Say it," I growled, snapping a pic of her tear-streaked face reflected in the grimy mirror. Her dark eyes burned with humiliation. "Fuck...you..." she rasped. I laughed and shoved her face-first into the bowl—her tits sloshed in the water as I held her down.
"Wrong answer." I twisted the air freshener deeper, making her hips jerk violently. The scent of artificial pine mixed with her musk filled the stall. Her thighs trembled—she was close. "Beg properly and I'll let you cum, you brown-skinned whore," I taunted, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a handprint.
She bucked wildly, heels scraping against the tile. "Fuck your—ahhh!" Her protest became a strangled moan as I ground the nozzle against her clit. Sweat dripped between my tits onto her arched back. "Dumb bitch still thinks she's tough," I sneered, wrapping her hair around my fist and yanking her face up from the toilet water. Her mascara ran in black streaks.
I twisted the nozzle deeper, making her thighs spasm. "Look at you—dripping on the pissy floor like a common slut." My free hand grabbed her tit, pinching the nipple till she whimpered. "Gonna cum from a fucking air freshener? Pathetic.”
Isha thrashed, her hips jerking involuntarily as the plastic ridges scraped her g-spot. "I'll—fucking—kill—" she gasped, but her threat dissolved into a choked moan when I slapped her clit hard. Her back arched off the toilet seat, tits bouncing wildly.
"Beg," I snarled, yanking her hair back so her face reflected in the mirror—mascara smeared, lips swollen. "Say 'Sonja's pussy is tighter' and maybe I'll stop.”
"Go to hell!" she spat, but her thighs trembled as I twisted the nozzle deeper. The scent of her arousal mixed with cheap pine cleaner filled the stall. I snapped another pic—her ruined thong dangling from one ankle, her dark bush glistening around the jagged plastic. "Smile for your colleagues, bitch," I taunted, grinding the air freshener against her clit till her toes curled.
Her hips jerked involuntarily as I slapped her ass—the sharp crack echoed off the tiles. "Still think my red bush is ugly?" I hissed, wrenching her head back by her hair. Sweat dripped from my tits onto her arched spine. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her nipples hardened against the porcelain. "F-fuck you..." she wheezed, but her cxnt clenched around the nozzle.
I twisted the air freshener deeper—her scream dissolved into choked sobs. Her thighs trembled, toes curling in ruined heels. "Say it," I growled, grinding the jagged plastic against her swollen clit. Blood smeared where her nails had scratched my inner thighs earlier. "Sonja's...pussy...is tighter," she finally gasped, forehead pressed against the filthy bowl.
"Louder." I yanked her hair back, forcing her tear-streaked face into the mirror, while filimig with my cellphone. The nozzle popped out with a wet sound as she whimpered. "Say it like you mean it, or I'll shove this back in sideways." Her dark eyes burned with humiliation, but her voice cracked as she repeated it—this time loud enough to echo off the tiles.
I laughed, releasing her hair with a final jerk that sent her forehead thunking against the porcelain. "Good girl." Stepping back, I admired my handiwork—her brown skin flushed with exertion, tits swaying above the toilet water, thighs trembling where they straddled the seat. The air freshener lay discarded on the floor, slick with her juices.
I flexed my bicep, angling my phone to capture her ruined posture and my own sweat-sheened torso in the same shot. "Tag yourself, bitch," I taunted, zooming in on her tear-streaked reflection in the mirror. Her ripped thong hung from one ankle like a surrender flag.
THE END
