Desi Office Girl Fucked Hard Her Indian Colleague

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" Rachel pulled her skirt up and stuck out her tongue at her brother. He grinned at her and didn't say anything while I slid my hand under there to sample skin. Surprise! I liked it! I liked the feel and I liked the look -- there was some definition there. She wasn't bushy, but she wasn't bald about the pussy mound -- whether it was trimmed or it just laid that way, her short pubes looked combed. "Well?" she whispered in my ear. I turned my head and kissed her. Rachel let go of her skirt and put a hand behind my head and moaned into my mouth, hers wide open to my tongue."Hey, hey, hey!" Daddy plucked at my sleeve and I broke the kiss to face his disapproval. "None of that!" No, LOTS of that!" Rachel asserted. "Go away, Daddy!" I slid my hand out from under her dress, hoping it was undetected."Let's eat," I suggested. "We can do that later." Daddy looked REAL unhappy, but he turned back to his dinner.For the rest of the meal we limited ourselves to rubbing each other's thighs and the. His fingers were now at her pussy, sliding the length of her cunt cleft, pressing her clit and probing at her cunt hole. She was wet and growing wetter. She had never done anything like this before not even with Barry. However, it was the way she had always wanted to make love with Barry, and let herself go, feeling the excitement grow and tingle.His cock was completely hard and she wanted it, wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything. The thought of being completely unfaithful to Barry, of going all the way with this man, flashed through her mind. She knew it was now or never.She sat up quickly. "Here, let me get my panties off," she said.She awkwardly slid her underwear over her hips and pushed them on down until she could take them off. Once free, she would be able to open her legs to this man.However, she didn't spread her legs, though. Instead she rolled over on top of him and straddled his hips with her open cunt."Just lay still, Mr. Olsen. I'll fuck you," she said,.
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He used to spank me whenever he decided that I'd crossed the line."Emboldened by that knowledge, I continued. "Did he do that to you on the day he died?" No," she replied. "He told me that I was lucky he was running late, or he would have turned me over his knee and spanked me like a bad little girl." She sniffled, on the verge of tears. "He ... he promised to do it when he g-got back..." Well, maybe if he had, you wouldn't feel so guilty about what happened," I said, cutting her off before she began to cry again. Then, taking a deep breath, I plowed ahead. "Anyway, since he didn't spank you then, I feel it's my duty to do it now."There, I'd said it. My mother just sat there staring at me -- her mouth slightly open, as if she hadn't heard correctly.I continued. "Even though Dad's death wasn't really your fault, you feel guilty ... and the only way you can be free of that guilt is to be punished. And since I'm the one person who loves you more than anyone else in this world, I feel.

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