Indian Woman Visiting Europe

Placing one foot on the edge of the tub, and her back up against the shower wall, she grabs his neck and pulls her to him. He wraps his arms around her hips so she doesn’t fall. “Or that I used to let you spank me, and fuck me as hard as you wanted, no matter what time or day of the week.” She starts grinding on him with the support she has, trying as hard as she can to try and coax him into sex one more time. She feels him start to respond by placing himself at her opening and sliding in as slow as he can.“Mmmmmm,” She moans, throwing her head back with a smile. He pumps in and out of her as easily as he can with how little space and support he has to work with, finally, his biggest fantasy coming true. Her finger nails start to rake up his back and he moves in and out with precision. She slides her hands down to his forearms for better bracing, she sees that he has some tattoos, something that she missed seeing last night. Since the back of the tub is at a 90 degree angle, it was. Now, so many years later, Clare's sensuous body vibrated with excitement as she remembered the beautiful, erotic nights she'd enjoyed with Rosemary, and the sensual stimulation they'd obtained first by kissing and cuddling, later by licking and sucking every inch of each other's smooth white flesh. Rosemary's girlish breasts had been so soft, so warm... her virginal pussy so sweet- tasting... her orgasms so poignantly intense... Her slender, graceful young body - so similar to Sandi Smith's - seemed to have been designed expressly for love.Their guilt-free, deeply satisfying love had continued for about six months, until they both met men strong and seductive enough to deflower them, dropped out of secretarial school, and went their separate ways. Every Christmas Clare received a card from Rosemary, who now lived in California with her husband, and though she'd never met the man she was certain that he couldn't help but be happy with a woman as sensually skilled as her friend had.
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