Indian Wife Pussy Fingering With Moaning

His penis hung between his legs. A thick, massive, mushroom-headed monster hung limp under his balls, swaying back and forth as he walked toward me.Without speaking, he approached, stroking his cock. He made it swell. It became fatter, longer, from quick short strokes at the base. The cock stiffed as he continued his jerking of the enormous behemoth.“Please...”“Shut the fuck up, you’re a worthless cunt,” his voice had deep, angry resonance. It was the bodybuilder. The man’s body was a testament to manhood. Bulging muscles, a colossal chest, his arms resembled some stone carving portraying the perfect man. And then you have that boner, angry curved like a banana, now standing tall, reach past his belly button the large head touching his sculptured body. It had to be more than 10 inches of hardened iron.“Get on your knees, whore.”“Please, please.”His foot lurched out, colliding with my thigh. The pain lurched inside my leg. I rolled off the mattress on the floor, rose onto my knees,. We kept having lunch together, and we kept kissing each other more and more but in a sedate way. It was nice and perked me up for the afternoon. We had our first date in April. Dave Matthews Band was playing up in Tampa, and I asked her to go. She jumped up and down in glee over the whole idea, and I read this as a good sign. We enjoyed the concert yet even more I enjoyed the physical contact we had with each other the whole night, including a lot of kissing and hugging while all this great music washed over us. When I took her back to her condo I wasn’t at all presumptive that something would happen, after all, I’d had a healthy relationship with my right hand whenever I felt the need for release — that was usually once a day. Margaret invited me in for a ‘night cap.’ I think the last ‘night cap’ I had was a year ago with Bennett when he found two warm cans of Bud in the trunk of his car. Anyhow and with low expectations, I accepted her offer and followed her upstairs to her condo..
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