only you could see what was left behind when I finally moved out. The mattress? A total disaster. Saturated, reeking, completely unsalvageable. The ultimate mark of my filthy pleasure. This wasn’t even my apartment—I didn’t care about the mess I was leaving behind. The bare mattress lay beneath me, already stained from my past indulgences, but tonight, I was going to take it to the next level. Spreading my legs, I let go, releasing an unstoppable flood of hot, golden piss, watching as it spread, soaking deep into the fabric, leaving dark, glistening trails of pure filth. The smell, the warmth, the sight of the ruined mattress beneath me—it was mind-blowing . I couldn’t stop. Again and again, I let my bladder empty, feeling the wetness beneath me grow, my hands exploring my drenched thighs, my soaked skin. I pressed my bare feet into the mess, grinding them into the ruined surface, teasing you with every filthy motion.