Then Denise turned and looked at Ivana. Now that newly bought garment had piss spilling down all over it. Lately, while her husband was off at work and her kids at school, Ivana has spent many hours at home searching for images and videos of women pissing and shitting. Admitting to herself that she now suddenly felt like a slave to that ass, a trim smooth ass which was appealingly rounded, but more girlish than womanly, Ivana pressed her tongue into the humid crack and dug it into Denise's asshole, her fucking shithole, for godsakes! And who'd sense it better than the shitter herself, the one who was about to expel it from her own rectum. She found one and headed towards an empty stall. And now she was watching it in the flesh, a strange woman pissing, pissing for her, for Ivana. Ivana had had many things pressed against her pussy, but never a fat greasy log of another's woman's shit, a log she had just licked and sucked. Now all she had were her fantasies. God, her anus was vivid, so tempting. She had fantasized about just this, amazed that her feverish mind could conjure up thoughts of such extreme filth and excitement. And what she lately seemed to love most of all was when the ladies room and the stalls were messy and funky, not spic and span. And Ivana's heart skipped another beat as she guessed to herself, wondering if that could possibly happen also. The ladies room was brightly lit and so even here, between the walls of the toilet stall, everything was nice and vivid. Now Denise turned again and sat on the toilet, facing Ivana, watching Ivana holding the log and sucking it hungrily, obediently. And like a zombie who could do nothing but obey, Ivana dropped to her knees, kneeling on the sticky, dirty tile floor of the toilet stall, her face only inches from the bushy cunt spewing urine. There were many ways, Denise knew, for a woman to "feel" her own feminine essence, or to appreciate another woman's.