Indian Masturbete

Her auburn hair tumbled down her shoulders in an unruly tangle. She was all soft curves and voluptuous flesh. She could stand to lose a few pounds – but Bailey liked to rest her head on the pillows of Kara’s breasts, and Kara liked feeling the scratchy bristles of her lover’s head against her cheek. Kara had the softest, fullest lips imaginable – almost like Angelina Jolie’s. Bailey could kiss them for hours at a time, and she never grew tired of them. Kara carried her cup of orange juice into the living room, and sat down on the couch next to Bailey. ‘Whatcha watching?’ She asked, casually glancing over at Bailey. Her heart leapt into her throat. Bailey had pulled herself into a tight ball, her legs folded against her chest, her arms holding herself together, as if she might break apart at any moment. Her face was red and puffy, and tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked. She looked like one of the Shoa victims, a living ghost. She stared back at Kara with haunted, empty eyes,. He smiled, and looked at me, then he leaned toward me and gently removed a small leaf that had settled on my shoulder. It was such a tender gesture that I found myself automatically leaning my cheek towards his hand. He brushed my cheek gently, ran his hand through his wavy brown hair, and floored the accelerator. I knew at that moment that I had to have him. Lust welled up in my breast like a flood, and I knew my pussy was starting to get wetter and wetter just thinking about him. I shifted my legs, and I felt the smooth satin of my panties rub against my pussy. I wanted to plunge my hands down there, and caress myself to blissful oblivion. As I shifted, I carefully, and without being obvious, raised my skirt slightly so that Mark couldn’t help but see my exposed knee and calf. I noticed a slight bulging in his pants, and my breathing slowed suddenly. It was now or never. Fuck the rules. I slid across the leather seat towards him, and reached out to touch his knee. I touched it.
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