Indian Housewife Getting Fucked By Manager

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There was only one path leading away from The Highway, flower-lined and completely inviting. A sign next to it simply said: WELCOME.It appeared to be late afternoon as I set foot on the path, trusting to find what I most sought.In minutes I reached a junction with paths going several directions. I knew I should take the path marked: TOWN. I wasn't worried about not being able to get a room and a meal, but I knew it wouldn't happen until I made it happen. Instead I followed the path labeled: TOYMAKER. I'm just too impatient for common sense.This path wound around trees and occasional fountains to eventually arrive at a quaint building I recognized from a very long time ago in a movie now far, far away. I heard sheep baaing in the distance.Despite the late afternoon hour, the sign on the door said: OUT TO LUNCH. Below it another one read: COME ON IN - MAKE YOURSELF AT HOME. I decided to take him up on his offer.The factory was deserted. The sun slanted in through big tall windows. A. An experienced woman to say the least... the perfect blow job, the perfect cock sucker... the perfect mom. I'm 20 years old and still living at home as I go to the local university and my mom has my cock down her throat... all the way.That's right, my fingers are tangled in my mother's hair at 7:15am on a Tuesday. I feel her slide a hand up and down my thigh. I instinctively open my legs a little, she runs her fingernails along the inside of my thigh... up one, down the other as she very slowly continues to suck me... all the way down... all the way to the head. I feel her tongue flicking the very tip as she holds the head between her lips. Her hand still tracing, moving... She knows exactly what I like. She should, she's my mom. Raging hard, as always, I lay there in a state of calm and pleasure that can't be matched. She's never in a hurry, never rushing... enjoying this as much as I. Something she loves to do, truly loves to do. I know because in the early days I asked her. It was.
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If I left now, I could get there in plenty of time, before it got dark.Instead, she had me sit down at the table and without a word, she fixed me a sandwich of real meat and a glass of ice cold milk. It was the best meal I had since way before I ran away. Like I said, drunks don't do a lot of shopping. As I ate, she put away the groceries and then taking a cup of coffee, she sat down across from me and watched me finish that glorious sandwich."My name is Rose. What's yours?"I told her my name was Richard Wallace Bing and I was twelve years and three months old. I didn't tell her where I was from but did tell her I lived close to the store. She listened, nodded her head like she believed me and just watched me finish the sandwich and milk."Why don't you tell me the real reason you're running the streets with no one to take care of you. And don't you lie to me. I gave you some food and a glass of milk so you owe me at least the truth. I promise I won't turn you in or anything like.

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