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Watch as I reach the point of no return. My eyes widen, a flush of embarrassment creeping across my cheeks as the warm liquid begins to flow. There's no holding back now; the wetness spreads, soaking through my yoga pants, turning them from a second skin to a transparent sheath that leaves nothing to the imagination. The humiliation is palpable, yet there's an undeniable eroticism to the sight of me, standing there, marked by my own desperation. The fabric clings to my most intimate areas, outlining every detail as I stand, exposed and vulnerable, in a puddle of my own making.