Diwali Hardcore Sex – Indian College Girl Sarika

My heart pounded even more rapidly .The intense pleasure spreading from the tiny erect bud beneath my fingertips, surging through my loins was almost unbearable. My engorged pussy lips throbbed, my hole ached, my body began to tense. “Shit! there’s a train coming.” Adam gasped. As exhilarated as I was by being watched from the other side of the platform, being caught with my knickers down, my hairy wet cunt on display for a train-load of people, was something else. I’d probably be charged with indecent exposure for a start! Possibly get my name and photo in the local paper as well. Frantically I pulled my knickers and trousers up, just as the train entered the station. I noticed my audience opposite slump back into his seat with an air of disappointment, as he disappeared from view behind the slowing train.“I thought it wasn’t due for another 10 minutes” I scowled at my boyfriend, as I stood up.“Sorry they must have changed the timetable” He replied sheepishly.We waited for half a. An hour and half later; Jean had tidied up, washed the dishes, put them away and chosen a simple white blouse over a black short skirt to wear; patent leather low heeled sling back shoes and minimal make up; just a light dusting of eye shadow, a quick brush of a blusher under a thin foundation. She looked critically in the full length mirror, noticing for the millionth time, the blemish of a small brown mole at the corner of her left eye. She was not pretty, she thought, couldn't be described as a beauty by any standards, but she was passable, could hold her own in a crowd; at least Bill thought so when he joked it would need to be a large crowd. After nearly twenty years married, his jokes all sounded the same, worn and dated, same as their conversation, their sex life and pretty much everything else. She switched off that train of thought before it went too much further and left her crying as she did too often these days.Her eyes were too wide apart, her nose not in proportion,.
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