DESI NRI BHABHI RIDING IT AGAINST THE WA

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He then told me to take his cock out and taste my ass. I slid that beautiful piece of meat out of my faggot hole and took him into my cock sucking mouth. It tasted sooo fucking good. His cock was dripping with my ass juices. He said what a filthy little slut you are Jennifer. How do you like the taste of your ass? I said I love it.He told me to get on my hands and knees because he wanted to fuck me like the bitch I am. He got behind me and in one big push he was balls deep inside my ass cunt. I screamed out, Fuck Me, Fuck Me Hard. He grabbed me by my shoulders and started fucking as hard as I had ever been fucked. John kept saying take it bitch. Tell me you love it. I moaned I love it. I love it. He asked what do love cunt. I love cock. I love being fucked! I pleaded, Fuck me harder. He started fucking me even harder. I moaned pound me, pound my pussy. He kept this up for another few minutes before pulling his cock out and telling me suck him again. His cock was covered with my ass. Oh Jesus!”My back flexed, my legs shook as her my was driven violently against the hand within it. My fingers flew to Pete’s hand in a desperate but unsuccessful attempt to push it away from me then, when that failed, I grabbed at his arms, face and hair, pushing him away, then pulling him back again.Two, three, four waves of orgasm washed through my pregnant frame before Pete finally decided I had endured or enjoyed enough his finger fucking slowed to a halt.There was a pause while we both took stock of what had just happened. Though his thrusting had stopped, at least two of Pete’s fingers were still inside me as I lay panting and staring up at him adoringly.“No more,” I begged. “Fuck me if you want but please, no more orgasms!”My body was still shaking as Pete’s hand left my vagina, leaving it feeling battered and empty. With me incapable of movement, he wriggled up the bed until his erection was above my red raw vulva.He smiled down at me, struggling to get the angle right over.
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No, girl, I don’t know him.’ He seemed faintly amused. ‘You ask a lot of questions.’ ‘My teacher says that’s how we learn things. Asking questions. Don’t you ask questions?’ Something stirred in his eyes. ‘Sometimes,’ he allowed. ‘Did you ever think what it’d be like if we couldn’t ask questions?’ One of his eyebrows lifted. ‘Don’t believe I did, no.’ ‘You ought to. I’ve got part of a sugar cookie in my pocket. Do you think I could give it to your dun?’ ‘I don’t recommend it.’ ‘Well, if he’s mean, why do you keep him?’ ‘He’s got bottom. He’s comfortable.’ ‘He looks spooky.’ ‘He is, that.’ He moved, swinging down from the lobo dun, stiff, as if he’d ridden a long way. His saddle creaked. His fancy spurs jingled in the dust of the path. On the ground, he was still tall. He turned and looked down at me again and asked one of his sometimes questions. ‘You’d be Jessie Masterson?’ ‘Yes,’ I answered, surprised. ‘How’d you know?’ He just looked at me, the way he’d been doing, as if he was.

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