Fucking My Indian Wife

It was kind of a dead end street. As I was riding down the street opposite from the complex I saw that there was about 8 or 9 guys playing basketball on the apt. court. I saw several look my way but nobody said anything. I was so nervous! I always get looks at my ass and I know it. So when I rode back in the opposite direction I made sure my shorts were pulled up high. My ass was literally d****d over the sides of my bike seat. I felt like such a whore but I was loving it!This time a few of. The hairbrush. The very hairbrush his Mother spanked him with. Right up to the day before he got married. Long wooden handle. Large square wooden head. He had memories of that hairbrush. Sore ones. Tearful ones. Sarah saw the look of recognition in his eyes. She let the hairbrush fall on the bed, and watched as Kevin’s eyes followed it, stopping still, wide open, as the hairbrush hit the bed. “I’ve been to your Mother’s Kevin. We had a good chat, and she gave me this. I think you recognise it”. “Chris has arrived now, so we’re on our way you fucking slut. Get that dirty cunt nice and ready for us”.I asked about the family while we were driving over and we discussed what we were each getting mum for her Christmas present. Although what I, and particularly dad, was doing was so wrong it had strangely brought us closer together and had bred a certain familiarity and we felt more comfortable together physically.We parked up a couple of streets away again so that the car wasn’t seen. And he asked me to share my mom’s pics, once I though not to share, but the situation was so intense that I shared my mom’s pic, he said she looks like desi homely slut, though my mom is not, we chat on her and masturbated, and we didn’t realised how the time escaped. He asked me to make my mom fake and share, I agreed for the next time, and finally we said bye.It was 8am in the morning, and our maid pushpa enters my room for dusting and cleaning around 8.30 to 9am. Now, the story of my maid is.
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