Desi Pakistani Milf Fucks Her Husband’s Friend

The tailor felt his blood boil but immediately stamped it down. “Forget Christmas for a moment,” his wife whispered. “The children will sleep for hours. You’ve no work to do today. Let me remind you how good things used to be.”The soft coaxing of his wife’s lips and the feeling of her warm flesh close to his did indeed remind the tailor of other times, when he’d been young and hotheaded and eager to chase anything with skirts on. His body, it seemed, remembered such things too, rising to the occasion just as readily as it had in his youth."I...I can't..." the tailor whispered. His wife shook her head."But what if you could? Maybe this will help." She took out the bottle with the love potion. "One touch of this and you'll forget all guilt and all shame for as long as you want. My Christmas present to you." What is this? Witchcraft?" the tailor said, taking the bottle with two fingers."No," said his wife. "Just an answer to your prayers."He looked at the bottle, then at his wife's. His dark hair, wet with sweat, clung to his head. He turned to grab another log. Dark wet hair shining with sweat covered his chest and abs. He looked pissed. He was likely imagining each log was Miranda's fucking head.I found myself hardening. I looked down at my cock, sticking straight up and winking at me, begging me to choke it. I shook my head and let the curtain drop back into place. I began to caress my own hairy chest with soapy hands, giving in to the image of my best friend's body in my head.What the fuck was going on with me? This is beyond a b*o-mance or a man crush. It was more than just physical as well. I wanted to comfort him, to let him cry on my shoulder. To make him feel good, that he was loved and that that bitch was crazy to choose Alan over him. I wanted to take his pain away, make him forget her. Make him understand that in the end, it would be just the two of us like always.Fuck.I lathered my cock furiously. Even though I was still sore from the pounding I.
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