Indian Aunty Showing Her Body On Cam

Anyway, there I was, bending over the washer, sorting some dirty clothes. The windows were open to a beautiful Saturday morning, admitting the sound of neighborhood birds chirping about how good their lives were. The sound made my face and neck warm, as I thought that I too had a good life, a good fucking life, emphasis on the next to last word; Artie at night, Ernie after work before my husband got home, and Michael on Sunday afternoons and whenever else we could manage it... My legs were splayed a bit as I felt Ernie's warm, creamy gift oozing out of my pussy. He was behind me, his groin pressed against my ass, as one of his hands weighed my breasts, feathering my nipples under a loose pajama top. My Ernie was a good sexual student, and a fantastic sexual partner. As I had been sucking his balls a few minutes earlier, I had been thinking about my husband, out of the golf course playing with a different type of balls. Unless he was with his simpleton secretary and she was the one. I love listening to a man pleasure himself, love hearing him glide his hand up and down on his hard cock. Slowly at first and building up the pack and rhythm as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. Hearing his breath catch as he is about to cum but isn’t ready yet so he stops before he explodes. How he’s not ready to cum because he wants it to last longer, he wants it to last longer because he’s thinking about me and he doesn’t want that to end. Just that thought gets me so hot. Makes me breathe deeper so the waves of pleasure that I feel from playing with my clit get more intense. I’m obeying and playing with myself while he tells me what’s going through his head while I swirl my tongue around the tip of his cock, kissing down the shaft, and taking each of his balls in my mouth in turn. Sucking and nibbling gently making his knees give way slightly. Making his hands fist in my hair, causing me pain, but I like the pain. It makes me gasp and moan and play faster with my clit. I use.
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