Boys Eat Their Bhabhi At Dinner indian porn

” She paused and drew a black lace handkerchief from her pocket. “I need you to stop him…Give him peace.” Her baby blues flooded, and I dived headlong in. Dabbing gently, and careful not to disturb the rich, black mascara, she fluttered her long eyelashes at me. My blood rushed south.“Care for a drink?” I asked. They always liked to drink and tell.“Thanks. Bacardi and Coke, large.” I smiled. She was class - a walking billboard for 50s retro haute couture - sophisticated, and from the money side of town. I gave Joe the order. Two drunk barflies started glaring at the angel next to me, so we moved to a corner of the bar. She slid gracefully from the snug and I stole another look at paradise. She spoke about her husband, but I wasn’t listening. Clients were usually tediously boring religious nuts, or middle-aged losers living beyond their means. This client, however, was a mid-twenties bombshell with high cheekbones, and legs that finished somewhere north of Jersey. She paused. I felt hurt but inquisitive as well.She was kissing and nibbling on my neck with a new found fury. My pants became painfully obvious when she released my aching tits. I watched as she gobbled my huge melon into her mouth. She had latched onto me like she was a nursing infant. I didn't mind. Her hot oral cavity was making me feel so needy. I needed her, I needed her tongue. I needed release.She worked her way down across my bare belly. Much in the same way I did the night before. Her hands exploring my fleshy thighs. She brushed my wetness through my suit bottoms. I raised my hips to give her the freedom to remove them. She smiled, shaking her head no. I was confused again. She wanted to eat my pussy, she wanted to return the favor... Why the hell didn't she want my pussy exposed so she could?She quickly nuzzled her face into my crotch. The pressure was to much for me to handle. I bucked onto her face with my covered snatch. She ground her chin into the sensitive area of my clit,.
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