Komal Ke Best Friend Ne Birthday Par Sarees...

So I went home an hour or so early.I parked my car in the garage and entered the house through the kitchen. My wife was starting to prepare some items for dinner.As I normally did, I gave her a kiss, felt of her breasts, and cupped her pussy. The kiss was not as passionate as it normally was and I think she realized that too. Her breasts felt very nice through her T-shirt without a bra to get in the way. My hand went up between her legs, under her short skirt, to rest up against her wonderful pussy. I could feel the heat that radiated from her…the moist heat.My wife whispered in my ear, “Why don’t you go lie down on the couch? I’ll wake you when dinner is ready.”She walked me the short distance to the couch, pushed me down, and tucked a throw pillow under my head. She leaned down to give me another kiss and her breasts hung down enough to touch my chest and then they swung around a little as she teased her own nipples on my body.A few minutes later my daughter bounded into the house.. “No!” He took her hands in his, pulled her to him, her softness against the back of his knuckles. Head down, she struggled against him, struggled against his hardness, a strong, determined woman. She bent her head and bit his hand. That enraged him. Sue me then, bitch, was his last conscious thought. Going with her strength, he let her go back, off balance, then spun her round. One hand twined in her thick hair, pulling her head back, the other under her ass, he ran her to the chair he had been sitting in and bent her over it. She gasped as it took her in the midriff, kicking back with a wicked stiletto heel, missing. He was between her legs now, snatching at her skirt, that expensive skirt, ripping it up her thighs. Stopped a moment, gasping at the pale perfection of her buttocks and thighs against the black, scraps of creamy lace disappearing into the lewd cleft. Which he spread with rough hands, thrusting hard fingers into her folds. She was moaning, Oh god Oh god, grabbing a.
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