Indian Guy Fingering His Wife Then Fucking On Couch

U should now change your clothes or u will get cold”. She gave me a towel and showed me way to her bathroom. I was wondering why she is acting like this and above all what will I wear now? I removed my wet clothes wrapped the towel around my waist and came out. She saw me I was embarrassed but she was normal then said,” there is my dad’s clothes there in my bedroom. Wear them. Sorry there is no full hand shirt.Can you manage?” ( how come she knows everything about me and how can she ask a boy to enter her bedroom). Her bedroom was superbly arranged. I closed the door behind me. There were some gents clothes lying on the bed. I wore them. As I turned back towards the door. What I saw. There were many pics of mine sticker to back of the door. Some were of my school days. One was of my childhood which even I was seeing after many years. I was blank. What’s all this? She has my photos. I was confused. She loves me. I came out of the room. She was not in the hall. Noise of shower maybe. Yes!” he moaned.“Do you like it when I talk to you?” she asked test a hunch. “You bad boy.” As he called him a bad boy his cock responded again. She smiled up at him. She leaned in licking his cock up and down coating it with saliva. She then began stroking him with her hand. He moaned as she did so and a drop of precum oozed from his tip. Lauryn used it to further lubricate him.“You are a bad man aren’t you Jake.” She said, all he could do is nod his eye glued to hers as she spoke to him. “You like my young body don’t you?” he nodded again unable to speak. She could see his eyes getting dark as she stoked him his cock seemed to get harder with each stroke. “You want me to get you off right now don’t you baby.” He nodded again his breathing getting ragged. “Mmmm that’s it baby cum for me. Ohhh cum for me baby.” she moaned. More precum issued from his cock this she added to his length, she leaned over and spit on his cock making slick, his cock seemed rock hard in her hand. “I want to.
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