Desi Indian Hotel Fuck

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She was older but still goodlooking and was thinking of her last young boy.She knew that young boys had powerful hormones and, ifyou didn’t scare them away, they were fucking machines.She was lonely now that the pizza delivery boy hadmoved. Her orgasm was getting closer as she rememberedhis hard young cock pumping streams of cum in her mouthand then fucking her to crashing orgasms.Just then the door bell rang and she wondered who thefuck wanted something on a hot humid afternoon. She puton a short robe and went to the door, pissed off andvery horny.She opened the door and saw a young boy standing therelooking embarrassed. He said he was looking for yardwork to make money to help his mother. He was on theshort slender side, wearing little white shorts, t-shirt, tennis shoes and his bike was leaning againstthe gate.She knew her strong points were her long legs and ass.Her robe was mid thigh and his eyes seemed to be gluedto her knees. He was a cute guy and she invited him in.She. ” Cris whispers. With that Cris’s tiny soft hands slip easily under Kitty’s bikini top and Cris slathers her small firm breasts with the slick lotion. As Cris’s fingers and her nails drag gently across her nipples Kitty feels shock and a charge, a flush of excitement, tingles, sensations, tremors, a thrill of sexual stimulation like she has never felt before. Cris casually massages Kitty’s breasts with lotion on the pretence of protecting them from the sun. Kitty herself tries to pretend nothing is happening, but her heart is pounding and her pussy is hot. More embarrassingly her nipples have turned to rock hard nibs. Cris draws her nails lightly across Kitty’s breasts again and again. Kitty can’t suppress tiny faint moans of pleasure. Cris smiles but does not acknowledge the moans, knowing how skittish Kitty is at this point. Before she moves her hands down further Cris takes each hard nipple between her thumb and finger and gives them a light press. Cris whispers into Kitty’s ear,.
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He slings it, dripping, over the back of the kitchen chair closest to him. She feels his stare and draws the sash of the robe tighter.She leads him through the kitchen and into the living room. She stops at the threshold between the two rooms and points him toward the phone resting in its' cradle across the room."It's not long distance, is it?", she asks him with an obvious tone of annoyance.Without missing a beat, he responds, "Not at all.".He turns his back to her and walks toward the phone, she fails no notice his casual smirk. She does, however, take notice of a pistol handle jutting out from back of his jeans, which his jacket had previously concealed. She doesn't say anything but watches him distrustfully. He picks up the phone and dials out.She can hear the phone ringing through the receiver and then somebody pick up. She doesn't make out what is said on the other end, but it doesn't sound like the professional voice of an auto club representative."Yeah... don't wait up for me.

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