> Karoline

The press briefing had barely begun when the air changed. Karoline Leavitt stood at the podium in her crisp navy dress, lips parted mid-sentence, when the first reporter—a sharp-featured woman from the back row—rose, walked forward, and dropped to her knees. Without a word she lifted the hem, pressed her face between Karoline’s thighs, and dragged her tongue straight up the cleft of her ass.

Karoline’s breath hitched. The room watched for three stunned seconds. Then the dam broke.

Clothes hit the floor in a storm of buttons and zippers. Cameras kept rolling. Bodies collided. Karoline was pulled down onto the carpeted stage, dress torn open, legs spread wide. A male correspondent buried his tongue deep in her asshole while another sucked greedily on her qunt, drinking the sudden rush of her arousal. She moaned, raw and unscripted, and reached for the nearest cock, swallowing it to the root.

All around them the press room became a writhing pile. Men fuqed men in raw, spit-lubed strokes. Women sat on faces, grinding their holes against eager tongues. One older journalist bent a young male intern over a chair and drove his thick cock into the boy’s ass while the intern licked a female producer’s shythole with long, filthy strokes.

The degeneracy escalated fast.

A bearded cameraman straddled Karoline’s chest, groaned, and pushed. A thick, warm log of shyt slid out onto her tits. Hands immediately smeared it—across her nipples, down her stomach, between her legs. The woman still eating her ass licked the brown streak from her rim with obscene hunger, tongue fuqing the filthy pucker while fingers pushed more shyt inside. Karoline came hard, squirting clear fluid that mixed with the mess.

Cocks plunged into shyt-smeared holes without hesitation. One reporter took two loads up his ass in quick succession, the cum and feces leaking out in a creamy brown river that another mouth eagerly drank. Semen sprayed everywhere—ropes across faces, into open mouths, across Karoline’s pretty conservative features until her mascara ran in dirty streaks. Women rode cocks and tongues alike, pussies and asses leaking combined juices that puddled on the floor.

They formed a daisy chain across the aisle: tongue in ass, cock in ass, mouth on cock, qunt on face. Karoline was in the middle, on all fours, a cock pounding her shythole while she ate a female journalist’s freshly shyt-smeared pussy. Another man jerked off onto the scene, adding thick white spurts that splattered across everyone’s skin. The smell was overwhelming—musk, shyt, cum, qunt, sweat—and it only drove them harder.

By the end the entire room was painted. Bodies glistened with every fluid imaginable. Karoline lay on her back in the center, chest rising and falling, covered head to toe in semen, shyt, squirt, and spit. A final slow tongue circled her ruined asshole, licking up the last of the mess while she trembled through aftershocks.

No one spoke. The cameras kept recording.