Indian Mom Sex With His Teen Son In Kitchen And Bed
They had texted me. They were stuck at a hotel across town and could not get home. They were snowed in. "Who is it?? Sweetie!" said Mrs. Claus. "Guess my parents got snowed in. I better go check outside." I said. I got off the couch. Anita got off another couch. We walked to her front door.I turned the handle to look outside. "There must be 2 feet of snow...Wow! What time is it?" said Anita. "Little after 11pm. That is allot of snow." I said. We looked around. I could not see the road behind my SUV. I could barely see my SUV covered in snow. "I had a great time. I think I better start heading home." I said. "There to much snow sugar. You don't have 8 tiny reindeer silly. You better stay the night. I don't want to hear no....young Santa. You can't drive in this. I can't even see your SUV. Where my 4 wheeler?" said Anita. "Let me text my parents....Mmmm...They think its a good idea I stay right where I am." I said.I helped Anita lock all the doors. She left some lights on outside. She. I shifted my ass a little so the base ofthe vibrator was resting on my heel and I could control the intensity ofmy pleasure by rocking my bottom or wiggling my foot. Bob adjusted hischair so his giant penis was in a perfect position for my adoration. Butfirst, I reached underneath it and freed his large hairy balls from theconfines of his bikini briefs. I kissed each one tenderly. It must havecaused a reaction in Bob's face, because I heard Christie and Kimberlylaugh as they started to clap and chant, "Go, go, go, go! Blow, blow,blow, blow!" I punched them both in their legs and their chanting wasreplaced with laughter. I licked my lipstick off the hairy sack, thentook each round ball into my mouth and sucked it. Bob moaned and Christieand Kimberly giggled, and out of the corner of my eye in the dim light, Icould see the two of them with their hands up each other's dresses. Ilaved the sensitive vein on the bottom of his stiff shaft with the flatof my tongue from the base to the top..
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