Denise made the most primitive poop ever made

As the zipper teeth parted, Denise's hands instinctively pulled her pants down, the fabric sliding down her legs like a **** surrender. Her body, now a **** to its primal urges, took over, and she felt herself squatting down, her thighs trembling with the effort. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, but Denise's senses were overwhelmed by the pungent aroma of her own body's betrayal.

Her muscles contracted, and a low, guttural grunt escaped her lips as she felt the first wave of relief wash over her. The sound was primal, raw, and unapologetic, a declaration to the world that she was no longer in control.

As the first wave of relief washed over her, Denise's body seemed to relax, her muscles releasing the tension that had built up inside her. The grunt that had escaped her lips slowly faded away, replaced by the sound of her own ragged breathing. The air was filled with the pungent aroma of her own body's betrayal, a smell that was both familiar and yet, utterly humiliating.

Her eyes, which had been screwed shut in concentration, slowly fluttered open, and she was met with the sight of the garden, bathed in the warm sunlight. The flowers, which had seemed so vibrant and colorful just moments before, now seemed dull and faded, as if they too, were embarrassed by her predicament.

After she peed, a warm, golden stream that seemed to last for an eternity. The relief was immediate, and she felt her body relax, the tension in her legs and back dissipating with each passing moment. The sound of her own stream was loud in her ears, a soothing melody that seemed to drown out the world around her.

As the stream slowed to a trickle, she reached for a nearby leaf, using it to clean herself as best as she could. She then pulled up her pants, her fingers trembling as she struggled to fasten the zipper.