Desi Wife Massage Session In Hotel - New Indian mp4

I'm a we'll-spoken, articulate person, but I don't handle confrontation well. My thoughts sort of freeze up on me sometimes, like some of those chat boxes on the internet.He gestured slightly with the cigar at the yellow legal pad in my lap, "Write these down. Juices, we already said that one. And add 'dancing.'" Dancing," I mumbled as I wrote."No more 'dancing eyes,' or 'our tongues danced together this and that' shit."Sounds like a fucking tango going on in their mouths."And milking! God, I hate that one! If I read that she 'milked every drop' one more time I'm gonna puke." No...more...milking." My head was drawing closer to the yellow pad as I wrote and I felt liking curling into a ball. He was grumbling something indecipherable about a cow.Now he was staring out the window."Any more, boss?" I'm thinking."He puffed two puffs."Yeah, put 'dripping' on there." You don't want me to use the word, 'dripping'? Ever? For anything?"No, no, no!" Like bosses the world over, he naturally. One hand groped my breasts as she reached up and around my ass with the other, pulling my pussy harder into her mouth. She ate me enthusiastically, like she’d been fantasizing about this, anticipating what she would do to me. It was as intoxicating as the Tequila to be wanted like that. I grabbed handfuls of her wild clubby hair, feeling the rhythm of her head nodding and she licked me. "Oh Ashh, don't stop...ohhhhhh..." Her finger was inside me and I moaned loudly, my head pressed back in the leather of the couch. My hips humped forward into her face as she finger-fucked me, sucking on my clit until I felt myself about to explode in her face. “I’m cumming...” I whispered as Ashley's rapid tongue drove me up into an explosive orgasm that consumed my inebriated body. It seemed to last forever. She licked me continually through it, drinking my flow, savoring my body's spasms. I seemed to go over the moon with pleasure, all the while conscious of the fact that my best friend was sending.
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