Indian Aunty Showing Her Boobs

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Movie k baad hum dinner kakrke ghr aai. Ghr aate hi mera frnd sone chala gai or aunty ki ldki tv dekhne lagi. Aunty bhi hot si night me chng karke kitchn me aagai. Me unko nighty me dekht hi reh gaya unhone mujhai ishare se kitchn me bulaya me kitchn me gaya or hum wild kiss karne lage.. 10 min k baad hum alag huwe or mene aunty ko bolaMe:-jaise hi apki ladki sojai ap niche aajana.Aunty:-ok par protection hai kya?Me:- nahi.Aunty:- bina protection k kaise jao tum condom ya to pill lekar aajao.Me:- jo humkum meri aunty.Or me wahan se medical gaya or xtra tym condom lekar aagaya.Jab me wapas aaya to mene dekha k aunty ki ladki uske room me thi or so gai thi or aunty mera hall me wiat kar rahi thi. Mene 1 chadar li or aunty ko lekar terrace pe chala gaya. Jaise hi hum terace pe paunche mene chadar zamin par bichai or aunty ko diwal se laga kar lag pada aunty pe.Hum wildly kiss kar rahe the 15/20 min tak.Aunty bohot garam hochuki thi. Mene aunty k kan me bola I love u unhone bhi bola I. She had done it all, and when it went off, she was enveloped in a dense cloud of grey smoke. It had tasted and smelled TERRIBLE!!! She batted the smoke away, and realized that she was sitting on the ground, AGAIN. Grandpa had picked the gun up from beside her. "SEE WHAT I TOLD YA? ARE YA HURT?"He had picked her up and dusted her off, again. He asked if she wanted to try it, AGAIN, but she shook her head, "NO." THAT had been enough. He had taken the gun and blew on it to rid it of any dirt, and had done a neat toss, catching the gun in his right hand, using the left to hit the hammer, making the old gun roar in a long thunder clap of explosions. He took her hand and led her to the X he had cut in the tree. At each point of the X, was a neat hole. He had, what he called, FANNED the gun. His father and grandfathers had taught him to shoot when he was a little boy.HIS Great Grandfather had been a U.S Marshal, and before, had been a Texas Ranger. He had met, or knew many of the people.
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Sharon cleaned it every week, methodically, nervously, almost afraid it could lash out at her suddenly, of its own volition, as though it didn't need his hands to inflict punishment. Thrilling a little, ashamedly, she would pull the whip off the wall and stretch it to its full length, massaging oil into the leather. The leather braid grew darker as she rubbed the oil in, making it more supple by her ministrations. Keeping it ready.The master didn't use the whip often, which is why it required these weekly attentions. But regular attention had the dual purpose of also keeping her focused on the instrument of her punishment, should she choose to disobey. Disobedience was always a choice, he told her often. A choice she was free to make, knowing the consequences of her actions. A whipping was hers for the asking.She had cried the first time he told her that, as he held the whip in his hands and waited for her to undress. She couldn't deny that he had warned her, that she had agreed to.

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