Horny Indian Girl Mustarbting

Not just any dime-store novel, that one could read in a night and then discard, but a rich, fully-developed epic, far more engaging than anything that he had ever read before, and he was considerably well-read. She was the kind of book that at times he could not put down for days on end, and at other times he needed to tear himself away to contemplate and digest what he had read before he could continue. But her story never left his mind, it kept unfolding in layer after layer until he could only marvel at her scope. And as time went on, and he fell deeper and deeper in love with her, there were times also when he could see his thread running through her narrative, sometimes broader, some times slimmer, sometimes invisible to his eye, but he trusted that he was always there, somewhere. And there were times when whole pages that begged to be read aloud passed across his lips, the sheer beauty of their words singing through him until tears ran down his face. Of course, there were. I kneel on all fours at the edge of the bed so that he can mount me from behind. His meat fills me entirely with his thickness; I hear his intake of breath at the increase in the narrowness of my love channel as he pushes into me. He takes me hard and deep, his balls slap off my pussy and my breasts swing before being fondled in Hel’s large hands. He leans down to kiss my shoulder and returns his hands to grip my hips. I feel him swell within me before spurting out ropes of cum, we gasp in unison and Hel puts his arms around me again. I lie down onto my front with Hel moving out of my wet heat. Hel holds me close in a tender embrace as we cool down. On my first shiver; he pulls the bed sheets up over me and kisses my temple. We doze off at some point before waking a few hours later, we shower together then dress again. Lazing around the apartment before Hel’s hand moves onto my thigh and I catch his eye. I mirror his action to place my hand up on his leg. Hel kisses my neck and I.
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