Hidden in the bathroom, I reached orgasm before urinating.

Discreetly using the restroom, I indulged in self-pleasure, climaxing before relieving myself. The thrill of being caught heightened my ecstasy, a unique blend of fear and pleasure.

Ensconced in the lavatory, I surreptitiously indulged in self-pleasure, my fingers expertly gliding over my moist folds. The thrill of being concealed only heightened the ecstasy, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. As I neared the peak, I couldn't help but feel the familiar tug of nature's call. With a gasp, I released my pent-up passion, the warmth of my climax intermingling with the cool tile. The sight was breathtaking, a testament to the raw, unfiltered pleasure I had just experienced. Yet, the moment passed, and with it, the memory of my clandestine escapade. But, in the secrecy of my mind, the memory lingered, a tantalizing reminder of the forbidden pleasure I had experienced in the lavatory.