Anjali Arora Raising Her Tempo And Our Desperation

Or how it ends depending on the state of one’s life. She peeks through the peephole, opens the door. No one is there. ‘Sorry,’ he steps into view from her left. He has a gun in his left hand and a bag in his right. ‘Sorry to do this to you on such short notice.’ She hesitates for a moment, then steps aside to allow him entry. He drops the bag on the floor and trains the gun on her chest. She inhales. ‘I always like to call before I pop in.’ He shuts the door with his foot and drops all the blinds on her windows, shoves one open while muttering something about wanting a breeze. ‘You expecting anyone?’ ‘No.’ ‘Don’t be lying, did your lip just twitch a bit?’ ‘Fuck you,’ she says. She steps back, bumps into the back of her black suede love seat. His eyes dart to her hands. ‘Where is he?’ ‘Who?’ ‘That’s the thing, Mira, you know exactly who I’m talking about. What did you do? What? While my back was turned you decided to slide that rock into your pocket.’ ‘I have no rock to hide. Not. ...Paul. He hadn't even dressed. He was covered by a hotel dressing gown and had his tux and shoes under his arm. I asked him what the hell was he still doing here.He told me he was waiting on me. I moved one door down to where my room was, the mother of the bride.I told him if he thought I was going to fuck him, minutes after he fucked my daughter, he was sadly mistaken.He said no problem, and the bastard honestly didn't seem bothered. Well, his loss. He asked if he could have a kiss goodnight. I said o.k. but just a kiss.He moved closer and kissed me gently. He was a great kisser,unlike my d*unk son in law who had been a wet aggressive kisser. Paul was gentle. He was holding my hand which I thought was nice. I was wrong. He was holding my hand so he could move it to where he wanted it. On his cock. And it made me gasp. It was bigger than any cock I had ever felt.And I had felt more than a few. I could barely get my hand around it. It was alive. Warm and hard, so hard.I looked into.
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