Desi Wife Sharing In Bathtub

I ran my hand up his chiseled torso, pushing his shirt back and down over his shoulders and holding on to his muscular arms. It felt as though I was on fire where ever his skin touched mine, leaving a trail of flames on my body. From my face, down my neck, my collar bone to my breasts, pulling my bra down and exposing them, and then lingering on my erect nipples. His hands continued down across my stomach and then back up, over my shoulders and down my arms, taking my hands in his and pulling them up above my head. With one large hand on both of my wrists, he held my arms against the wall above my head. His other hand caressed my face and he ran his fingers through my hair as his lips found my neck, making me moan as his stubble grazed across my skin. I pushed my hips forward desperately trying to grind myself against the increasingly large bulge in the front of his trousers. When he reciprocated, pushing his hips back into me I let out an audible moan. Then his hand was across my. As promptly as our little bar corner make-out session began, we stopped and realized we needed to not be seen by our colleagues. Without a word, simply a look, we knew it was time to head to one of our rooms. A quick glance back to make sure no one saw what was going on and we were headed for the elevator. Remaining as professional as possible in case we passed one of our superiors, we arrived on the 5th floor and briskly walked to my room, giggling a little here and there like teenage lovers skipping school together. Since the time she left me with her drink to go to the restroom, barely a word had been exchanged between us, but we both knew what was about to happen. Immediately after entering the room she jumped up into my arms and wrapped her legs around me, it was obvious we had both wanted this from the time we first met years ago at this show. I set her on the bed and piece by piece we fumbled a bit to undress each other. Wearing only her panties, Anna dropped to her knees to.
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