Tamil Maid With House Owner

Cooking was not her favorite thing. She wasn’t a very good cook and she had little interest in becoming one. She went back to work on her writing and had made some progress so was still at her computer when she heard her husband’s car in the drive. He only had a short dash to the house but he was soaked. John was a a few inches under six foot. His work as software engineer did not give him enough exercise so he worked out regularly but he wasn’t bulky like a weight lifter but he did look trim. He kicked his shoes off then went into their bathroom and after he dried his hair he went to the bedroom and put on a dry shirt. He suggested eating at home instead of going out into the rain again. Rosemary took a couple of frozen roast beef dinners out of the refrigerator and put them in the microwave . They took the heated meals into the living room and turned on the TV. After they finished she took the empty trays into the kitchen. When she came back they found a sit-com they both liked.. It hurts, yes, but so good. I extend my tongue. My body trembles all over. Now! I lick a slow trail upwards through her rosy, wet, warm folds, feel the blood rush underneath that sacred place, and my heart tries to burst. Her arome coats my tongue and the monster in me roars to life with such power that time stops around us. Like switchblades, my canins extend, and I bury them in her pussy lips. There’s a sharp gasp - there always is - then she throws back her head and screams in ecstasy. Power rushes into me, sating me, filling me, and a clarity settles over me that has no second. My heart beats slowly, swoosh, then what feels like minutes pass by before I feel another swooshing beat. She, Miranda, writhes in pleasure while she gifts me with the power of her blood. I start to feel light-headed suddenly, and I fight against the hunger that never really stops. I pull out my teeth and time returns to normal. My chest heaves and my breath rasps. Miranda slumps forward, her fingers still.
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