Love to Shit Girls - Easter Shit Messy Play

I woke up on Easter morning feeling exceptionally horny. My body was craving the naughtiest of dirty fun, and as I stretched in bed, I could feel my wetness build up. I couldn't help but grind against my mattress, imagining myself being filled with filth. As I pushed down on my pelvis, the sensation of fullness grew stronger. My pussy ached for someone to thrust into it, but all I had was myself. I slipped a finger inside, moaning at the pleasure that only came from my own hand. My breathing became ragged as I fingered myself harder and faster, imagining it was my favorite toy that was filling me up so delightfully. Without realizing it, I'd started playing with my ass as well. I always did love the feeling of fullness, and my assachieved that perfectly. I spread my cheeks, offering myself up for what felt like the biggest cock I'd ever felt. I moaned again as I plunged a finger deeper into my tight hole, loving the sensation of stretching my ring. My orgasm hit me like a freight train, causing my entire body to shake with pleasure. I came and came, unloading onto myself until I was completely covered in my own juices. And let me tell you, it was glorious. But as amazing as it felt, there was something missing. I craved mess, and I craved it badly. I pushed down hard, feeling my body straining for the sheer intensity of it. My legs trembled, gripping the sheets as I released the biggest, filthiest load imaginable. It flowed from my cunt, splitting my cheeks and dripping onto the sheets beneath me. Hot, thick and gooey, it felt amazing as it filled me up, making me feel even more complete. And then, I did something I'd never done before... I wiped my ass with tissues, removing every last bit of filth from my body. It felt so dirty, but the mess was so hot. I couldn't get enough of it. As I watched the tissues turn black with my darkness, a grin spread across my face. I had never felt so alive, so turned on, than in that very moment. I loved feeling like this, covered in the evidence of my own filth. And I knew that I would do it again, because it felt too damn good to resist. Every scar on my body was a badge of honor, a reminder of the beautifully twisted things I'd done. And so, there I was, buoyed by the power of my own perversion. Happy Easter, indeed.