Indian Desi Wife

I don’t buy you, I share my things with you. I LOVE you. I CARE about you. I never want to hurt you. I never want you to leave. I mean, who would I get to use these tickets with, if not you?”She lay shaking as he held her. Finally, she turned sideways, her curiosity pushing against her frustration.They had been on a couple cruises to the Bahamas and other islands, all short, and always getting stares from the other oldsters, ignored. He also tipped the steward extra each day, which got him extras each evening, to the delight of her and to make up for the mess they left.“Tickets?” she said tentatively, wiping tears. He brushed her hair out of her face. His angel.“Just a little month-long tour of Europe, but that’s ok. We can go later.”She hated it when he did that while she was mad or sad.“Paris?” she whispered as he kissed her forehead.She wanted to be mad. But her teddy made it hard. And her crying had finally worn her emotions down.“Paris, London, Geneva, Vienna, Rome...” he. My heart almost stopped as I realised that the towel was fairly small and she had it a bit too high, with her pussy just visible peaking out underneath.Hoping she wasn’t going to adjust the towel, I quickly finished what I was doing and casually turned around. “YES!” I thought to myself, there it was the pussy I had just dreamed about cumming in was showing under the bottom of the towel. Clearly she didn’t realise and I didn’t want her to either, as I tried to discretely perve at her. What I could see of her pussy was shaved smooth, with not a strand of hair showing, her pink lips protruding deliciously. Oh how I wanted to suck them and feel them wrapped around my hard cock.She moved aside to let me pass, but happened to leave only enough room that as I walked past my arm brushed against her breasts. I continued on as if nothing had happened but in reality I was replaying the whole thing over in my mind. Seeing her pussy, feeling her soft breast against.
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