Elegant and filthy, “human urinal” features a porcelain-skinned woman in black lace gloves. In “human urinal” she uses only those gloved fingers, dragging satin over sensitive nipples, then down to part her slick folds. The contrast in “human urinal” is intoxicating—delicate lace against raw need. She edges herself mercilessly in “human urinal”, stopping just before climax again and again, tears of frustration glistening. When she finally lets go in “human urinal”, the orgasm is devastating: body convulsing, elegant composure shattered by desperate screams.