Indian Hot Wife Gets Facial Cumshot

Calming down, I took a few deep steadying breaths to clear my mind.Once that was done, I would be able to think. I would be able tofigure out the answer. Then, everything would be fine.Click! Clack! The sounds of a key in a lock and the rattle of thefront door knob. The budding calm that I'd been building within mevanished at that sound. It meant that George was home."Oh no! What am I going to tell him?! That I fucking bumped into somemagic girl at the mall?!" I exclaimed, bolting upright. Obviously, ifI tried to tell my friend that, he'd think I was nuts. In fact, he'dprobably think I was some lunatic trying to rob us. What was I goingto do? What would happen if I got arrested? Could I run away? I'dhave to dart past him and just book it. That didn't sound easy. CouldI pretend to be someone else? Who? It wasn't like I had a girlfriend,and George knew all my friends.Those desperate plans ate up all of my time as George's footsteps drewever closer. Running my fingers. They’d been working for hours. Like, enough housework, he thought. “Nice pie crust,” he said, wondering what Karen wanted to hear. Holiday preparations, he knew, were always a big deal for women, so he wanted to say and do the right things. “I’m just about done,” said Karen. “I’ll put it in the fridge to set over night and we can put the batter in tomorrow.” “Sounds like a plan. I’m done with the vacuum.” “Hmm, so I’m done and you’re done. That’s nice,” said Karen. She looked over at Mike. He stood there, rocking slightly on his heels. “Did I spill some flour on my cheek?” she asked. “Yeah, let me wipe it off,” said Mike. He dusted her cheek with his hands, then pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Uh-oh, I see some more flour. Better get that off, too,” he said, a little too seriously. He moved closer to her neck, tan beneath her pinned-up hair. “Yep, there’s some.” He flicked his fingertips over the warm skin. With a great show he dusted his hand against his pants..
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