Wetting my pants

She stands before the camera in a white tank and denim shorts, blonde hair loose around her shoulders. The shoot drags on. No breaks, no bathroom. Her thighs press tight, then part. A slow, warm trickle leaks down her leg. It darkens the fabric, spreads, runs. She watches the wet patch grow. Her fingers slip beneath the damp cotton and stroke her clit through it, slick and filthy. She pushes again, soaking the seat of her shorts. Piss runs over her knuckles. She moans, rubs harder. Her hips jerk forward, her legs shake, but she never looks away from the lens.