Kitty Skatt - Two-day log in open festival toilet

Festivals make me sooo constipated! Again I havent shit for two full days and the desperation is hitting hard. It doesn't help that the toilets here are open, with nothing to shield me from curious eyes or stinky smells. Everyone is packed in like sardines, and judging by the muttered curses under people's breaths, many of them are feeling equally backed up. But when you've gotta go, you've gotta go, right?

As I stand in line for what feels like forever, I can't help but fantasize about sneaking away to relieve myself in private. But then again, where would be the fun in that? Besides, the thrill of potential discovery is half the appeal of exploring my naughty side at these kinds of events. Finally, it's my turn to step up to the (open) plate. But before I do anything crazy, I set up my camera on a tripod and give it a loving pat...

Carefully orchestrating my moves so as not to draw too much attention, I slowly begin to undress, inching closer and closer to the edge of the platform that doubles as both toilet and catwalk. I'm hoping against hope that nobody will notice, but at the same time, a small part of me is excited by the idea of being caught in the act. And you know what they say – curiosity kills the cat!

By the time I'm standing there completely naked, my heart is racing and my breath is coming hard. There's no turning back now – it's either now or never. With an audacity that boggles even my own mind, I bend over at the waist, presenting my gorgeous ass to the curious audience. I spread my cheeks apart, revealing my tight rosebud entrance, and the sensation of cool air rushing over my heated flesh sends shivers down my spine.

As I start to push, the massive turd that's been festering inside me for days slowly begins to emerge. It's thicker than my fist, longer than my forearm, and it feels incredible as it slides through my tight anus and into the waiting toilet bowl below. I can't help but moan softly in ecstasy, my body shuddering with silent pleasure as the last remnants of my constipation are finally expelled.

When the log is finally out, I take a moment to savor the feeling of sweet relief coursing through my veins. My asshole pulses weakly, still slightly stretched from the enormity of what it had just endured, but it feels amazing. Have I been caught? I can't tell – but even if I have, well... The thought of getting caught only makes the experience that much more thrilling. And besides, there's always tomorrow's festival to look forward to, isn't there?