Indian Old Man Fucking Forced Son Wife

Across the way an open garage door reveals several men inside. Could these men be the gang of sex crazed brutes that have been raping all the girls in the area. I’ll have to get closer to get confirmation. Perhaps if I go around to the other side of their building I can find a way in. As I make my way around the buildings two men emerge from an ally only ten paces away. I push my back to the wall, clearly visible if they look my way. Luckily they don't notice me. They head the other direction towards the main factory, as I slowly follow behind. They are both abnormally large men, one black, one white. I can't quite make out what they are saying as they open a door and disappear inside. “Ok Kasumi” this is the moment of truth. I have know idea what could be waiting on the other side of that door. A blacked out window provides me a mirror. As I gaze at my orange hair in a single braid, my heaving chest, barely contained under my soaked top, erect nipples and large areolas fully. The sweat that now soaked her entire leotard made the already tight garment stick even closer to her body, hugging the gentle curve of her breasts, allowing the taut nipples to poke through.She looked him in the eye and Bruno glanced away. He looked off into space, trying to think of something else, maybe to get lost in the music. It didn't work. The notes were pounding in his brain, now, working their cheap magic on his emotions. He looked over at Miss Grant again.She was arcing her back, slowly falling back into an arch with only the tips of her toes and her fingers touching the floor. Bruno stared at her crotch. The leotard was pulled so tight that he could see a few curly black hairs poking out around the sides and the folds of her cunt were clearly outlined by the material.Trying to avoid her eyes as she bounced to her feet again, he shifted on the piano bench, trying to give his raging hard- on room to breathe. It was pressing against his tight jeans. Hoping she couldn't see,.
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