Beautiful Indian Wife Fucking With Husband Friend

She, as normal, is not surprised. Maybe my attempts at stealth are just that. As I take in what she's wearing or, should I say, what she's wearing for me. The black lacy waspie suspender belt, yum, the balcony bra where there is just a hint of nipple on show. Wow, what nipples they are: large, pert, the size of car wheel nuts. They can be so sensitive when engorged. If she's in the mood, playing with them can bring her within inches of a climax. Not forgetting the tiny thong, the fishnet stockings and the red, fuck-me pumps. I thought I'd died and she was the Valkyrie ready to whisk me off to Valhalla.Back in the real world, she's guiding me back to wall.She tells me, "Shut your mouth lover boy and stay still."She moves toward me like a fine whisky pouring itself, dusky, sparkly and definitely packing a punch. Then her body brushes against mine and I let out a murmur of pleasure. She deftly undoes my buttons and releases my manhood from his restrictive cage. She looks down and smiles. I noticed that Marie had taken the chance to head off in the direction of the stairs, and I returned to my glass and my book, intending to finish off a couple chapters and my drink. My anger had subsided, and I had gotten about halfway through the glass when I heard Constance’ phone ringing across the house. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, I dumped the dregs of the tea in the sink, placed the glass in the ‘dirty’ section of the countertop, and hastily made my way up to my room. When I got up there, Marie had already stripped out of her uniform save for her thigh-high stockings, and was instead lounging about on my bed in a very black and lacy bra and thong while reading my copy of the Joy of Sex, and holding it way too close to her face. ‘Are you feeling better?’ I said as I shut the door behind me, making sure to lock it. Marie looked up from the book. ‘Master, I’m feeling a little better,’ she said, ‘I do feel jealous and guilty and things I don’t even know the.
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