Desi Aunty Dressing Up
Jennifer begged, she pleaded. " Please...More...More...please...Don't stop...Fuck me...Please fuck me...Please...Oh god...please." I slipped easily in and out of her, her wetness slick down her thighs, increasing my pace at her incoherent urging and my need. She reached between her legs and flicked her clit back and forth, getting closer and closer to orgasm as I slammed into her from behind. Forceful, deep thrusts that pressed her thighs against the back of the sofa, and bounced her tits back and forth. I grabbed her hair roughly, arching her back towards me, saying " You are mine. Come, come for me. Be a good girl and come for me." In my masochistic bliss, all she can do is moan and smile. She tries to keep my pace with her hips, pressing back against me at the deepest point of my hard strokes inside her, but lost out to my frenetic rhythm and her fingers on her clit. She tightens around me suddenly, crying out, lost to waves of pleasure, jerking her hips uncontrollably. I pull. Will you drop them off in town for me and then pick them up later?’ She held out the spare keys to the VW Polo. ‘No problem, consider it done!’ I agreed. ‘Just call me in the morning and let me know what is happening, OK?’ We hugged and she got into the car and I watched them until they rounded the bend in the road. I didn’t really want to have to go home, cook something for myself and Emma then come back to pick up the twins and so I called the house, spoke to Lucinda and suggested that we all went to the ‘Funky Chicken’ diner for burgers or Kentucky chicken. By the time Emma and I had closed the garden centre up at six o’clock, the twins were waiting for us in the car and we drove over to the diner. For obvious reasons we mostly talked about what had happened to Uncle Andrew and the rift between Mum and Aunt Susan. Luci seemed to know more about the situation than anybody. ‘Aunt Susan is a total snob!’ she announced unsympathetically. ‘Mummy says that when Auntie Gwen married.
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