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Tired of holding it in, a mysterious vixen checks into a seedy motel, her bladder aching for release. She surveys the dimly lit room, her eyes landing on the outdated hotel phone. With a mischievous grin, she unzips, straddling the phone, and lets loose a torrent of warm, golden relief. The phone squelches and squeaks as it absorbs her pent-up flow, the sight and sound of her pissing sending a thrill through her.