With both hands she eased the tip of the bottle into her entrance. It slowly slipped in. Centimeters at a time. Each one eliciting a slightly higher pitched and more desperate gasp. Despite the slow pace, she quickly felt her walls swell to wider than they had ever been, the feeling of lukewarm plastic on warm flesh was unsettling, but the pleasure of being so close to splitting open, so completely full, was intoxicating. She reached around and rimmed her asshole with a finger, briefly slipping it into her pussy with the bottle. The feeling was excruciating. But an agonizing second later it was withdrawn, and slick enough to penetrate her tight rosebud. She painfully repeated this feat with two of her other fingers.
Slipping them in, she thrust it in and out as quickly as she could manage, her most delicate hole being roughly violated by her own hand. She had almost now taken the entire bottle inside of her. Suddenly her foot slipped off the edge, her holes involuntarily clenched, and she wasn't at all spared from the massive girth. The pressure in her guts was even more overwhelming, and the bottle quickly slipped out. She tried once again to recover in the last few moments, once again too late and the massive opening between her legs, quickly retracted to a narrow slit, and she felt the true extent and fullness of the three fingers in her ass. Every part of her body tensed as her orgasm swallowed her. The air was sucked from her lungs. Every drop of piss and nectar poured out, and she crashed full speed into a wall of pleasure.
Nearly losing her balance, she tottered around, barely remaining upright as waves of ecstasy washed over her. She regained enough control to shove a few of her fingers, back into her twat, and she furiously fucked herself as her other hand now gripped at her breast. She rubbed as fast as she could until her climax finally dissipated. She slowly retracted her hand from her vagina, gently tracing up her crotch, spending a moment to caress her belly before bringing it up to her other breast. She cupped her boobs, feeling her heart still racing beneath the supple flesh. After a few minutes of this, her ragged breathing returned to normal. She let go, and bent down to give the camera a smile, before reaching over to switch it off. She pulled the shower curtain closed, and still trembling opened the taps. The hot water rushing over her body felt incredibly comforting, and she lathered every part of herself allowing the water to wash all of her mess away.
Now cleansed, she stood under the head of the shower and turned her face up into it, after such an intense session, this, the nearly scalding water, was nothing. Her body was too exhausted for her brain to work. Numbness, a perfect absence of mind, a beautiful feeling at the end of sex, but this time, imperfect without the warm body of another to cling to. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped her body in a towel. She felt a dull ache between her legs, and briefly considered how much more severe it would be tomorrow, but her thoughts, her full personality, for the moment were campfire ashes. This is what it is to be fully used up. She took a few staggering steps before flopping down on the bed. She looked up at the dying evening sunlight streaming silently through the blinds, but within minutes had drifted off. The next morning she had pancakes, with syrup and butter and stuff. It was quite nice. After that she joined a polyamorus compound, took 18 lovers each one prettier and more interesting than the last, mothered 6 intelligent and successful children, and lived happily up to the age of 97 when she peacefully died in her sleep the day after her birthday celebration, in which everyone who had wanted to see her was able to do so one last time.