Indian Housewife Homemade Webcame

‘Thank you,’ I finally whispered. ‘What? Oh…so it was…’ ‘Perfect,’ I finished for her. ‘You weren’t that bad yourself…for a novice anyway. In fact…pretty good,’ she conceded. ‘Do you think we could do it again?’ I asked. ‘I think you already are,’ she said, then giggled as she looked down between our bodies to where my penis was half buried in her vagina. We ended up on the couch in the lobby, both of us butt naked, me pounding wildly into her while she screamed out her pleasure. It was a miracle (or the fact that Middlebury was a rich school and had spent a fortune on soundproofing) that no one interrupted us or called the cops. I lasted much longer the second time! And I was one hundred percent sure, as I watched her panting at my side after we’d finished, that Miss Victoria Penelope Smyth-Worthington had no complaints about the Irish boy from Brooklyn. ‘C’mon,’ she finally urged, grabbing me by the penis as she stood, ‘we’ll go to my room.’ From which we didn’t leave for the next. She didn't know whether it was thoughts of her roomie, or the friction of the coarse cloth of her habit against her bra less breasts, but her nipples stayed hard through the bus ride back to the convent. She'd never been with another woman. In fact, although she knew the dictionary definition of a lesbian, the whole idea of two women having sex hadn't been real to her until entering the convent. While a couple of the girls had sort of flirted with her, they didn't push when she showed no interest. Even now she wasn't so much fantasizing, as reminiscing about the time she'd heard rhythmic creaking coming from her roomies bed one night, and slowly realized that the other girl was masturbating.Sister Magdalene, (Maggie to her friends), was a mousy little, anorexic looking, dishwater blond with thick glasses and an overbite. As far as she knew, Maggie had never been on a real date, and had turned down the few crude passes she'd received from guys willing to do a "mercy fuck". She couldn't.
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