British Indian Girl Masturbation – Movies

The station was reasonable quiet asthe rush hour was well and truly over, as the tube train came into thestation the air it forced along tugged at my dress, the doors opened andI walked along the platform to enter a partially full carriage. I satdown carefully brushing the dress under my legs, knees together feetslightly apart toes pointing inwards. I sat straight backed but lookeddown at the shoulder bag resting on my lap, my feminine styled hair feelforward across my face hiding it partially allowing me to glance aroundthe carriage. The usual mixture of people, all in there own littleworlds and thankfully none paying attention to my own little world whichat the moment was spinning frantically. Here I was dressed outsideagain, something that had seemed impossible, merely a dream over a weekago.As the tube sped on the District Line towards Monument station I thoughabout what had happened. Those lovely few days beside the Scottish Loch,chance to dress without fear of detection or. And then … perfect clarity; the extra piece of the puzzle that even I didn’t know about slotted in to place and the plan was perfect … no – beyond perfect – uber-perfect! I silently padded through the common room to the toybox hidden in the sofa recess. I rummaged right to the bottom, tossing vibrators and dildos out onto the sofa. Found it: Rawhide, (you know, slip it in, strap it on, ride em out, Rawhide!), a thick but plain latex strap-on dildo. Concealed inside the rubber cup that secures the base is a much smaller dildo facing inwards. Working as quickly as I could, I slid the inner dildo into my now very lubricated, very hot pussy. I fumbled with the straps a few times, finally getting them cinched tight around my waist and legs. I looked down, my new penis now standing proudly out underneath the hem of my nightie and gave my hips a wiggle, making it jog and bounce. I’ve never seen Rawhide used; never even heard of it. I could see why: I looked fucking ridiculous. Mandy didn’t.
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