Indian Woman Messy Fucking With Her Husband Friend

The line of hairs tickled my nose, as bit into her ripe, juicy fruit. I nearly came--and I know she did. Her juice dribbled down my chin and soaked the collar of my t-shirt. The cum tasted like fresh peaches in cream. I stood up and cupped her breast and kissed her with her own juices still wet on my face, fresh. “He never eats my pussy,” she said. “He says it's unclean.” “Seemed pretty clean to me,” I said and kissed her and smiled. “Cleaner now,” she took her tongue and wiped the juice from my chin and neck and shirt and said. “Taste like pussy . . . yum.” She led me into the bedroom. There she laid out on the big bed, spread eagled, and ready. She looked golden across the white sheets. She spat on her hand and then rubbed her clit with the spittle. She looked up at me and smiled, and said, “That's tight. It's like I've never been fucked before.” She then stuck her finger into her mouth and waved me over. “Let me guess, he doesn't believe in getting blowjobs, either?” She. Just before the annual works outing, which consisted of a weekend in Scarbororough, I hated it as a kid. Rather than go in the works bus, I drove there myself, missing dinner in the process, and joined everyone else in the bar. I must admit, it was an eye-opener to see all the lasses tarted up instead of wearing their dreary work overall.After a pint with the boss I went to check into my room, but the damned key wouldn't work."Can't you get in, Mr. Andrews ?" a voice said. Turning round, I found myself face to face with Lisa. Smiling, she said " You can put your bags in my room and call the porter later." She was wearing a black, see through blouse with a lace bra underneath, a micro-mini and black shiny tights. She looked fantastic. Maybe a bit of fraternizing would be good, I thought, and I followed Lisa into her room."Have a double one of these," she said. "It'll put lead in your pencil." I didn't need any lead my pencil, as at that moment it was as solid as a rock. Thinking her,.
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