Desi Wife Fucking Hotel Room With Her Husband

“Get…get out….” I knew I could’ve slid my dick inside her pussy, and she wouldn’t have protested, but I wanted to hear her ask for it. I leaned forward and kissed her, not an innocent mother-son kiss, but a sexy, deep, French-mouthed kiss, our tongues intertwining as my chest pressed against her huge tits. “I know you want my cock, Mom. That’s what you were thinking about while you were masturbating; you were wondering how big my dick was, how it would feel inside of you. Say it! Tell me to fuck you! Tell me right now or I will walk out and you will NEVER see my cock again!”Finally, her hands moved to caress my ass; “Yesss,” she whispered. “Do it.”“Do what?” I asked.“Fuck me, Kyle. Fuck your mother. Fuck that wet pussy.” With that, I finally slid my cock inside of her. Besides the amazing, physical sensation, I know that both of us were mostly turned on by the thought that a mother and son were fucking one another. “Yessss!” I screamed. “I’ve fucking my own mother!” I started ramming. "What's your name?" They call me Heather," she said."They call you Heather?" There was a sprig of heather wrapped up in my blanket," she said."Do you like it?" I still have the sprig," she opened a little bible and there it was, a pressed sprig of heather between the pages. "This is the only thing that's mine. Even these clothes belong to the people where I was living. My foster mother turned me out when her son got me pregnant." There's nothing you need from home?" It's not home ... it's a shelter. They told me my baby died." David?" Yes?" Fire up the fans and we'll get to untying us." You'll take me?" Right now." Thanks be to god. You saved me from the pimps."Twenty minutes later we were on the river passing Brathwaite heading for the Gulf of Mexico. We stopped at Buras and took Heather clothes shopping. It wasn't the garment district but the general store had good clean sturdy clothes. We wanted foul weather gear but the clerk said we needed to go down to Venice ... The Venice.
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