Indian Wife

He releases my wrists and I immediately start to undress him. Pulling his t shirt over his head I admire his toned, muscular physique. I want him. I unbuckle his belt, eager to get to his manhood. His prick springs out of his jeans, excited for me and the thought only quickens my desire. As if he's read my mind, he pushes my panties to one side and slips his fingers slowly in and out of my wet pussy. I moan at the glorious intrusion. “Ready for me already,” he whispers in my ear. I make a grab. “And what was you mister in the Corp., a damn private? I’ve worked hard to get these railroad tracks in this man’s army, and now to be called a BAM by a piss ant chauvinistic bastard like you. You come into my house mister with this group of under age school girls and refer to me and my people as ‘Broad Assed Marines’. Does my ass look broad to you mister!” She lambasted Max. “I can’t hear you mister?”“No Mam.” Max came to attention and found himself wanting to salute.“Well I hope not mister.”. He sat behind this over polished bloody oakwood bloody desk about the size of a bloody cricket wicket the useless bastard.“Good day Captain, I am delighted to meet you at last,” he simpered wi’out standing up.“No thee bloody ent,” I said, “Thee jus wants me brass,” I answered him, “I’m from bloody Yorksire and I speaks me bloody mind,” I explained to the ignorant Lancashire twat.“Er, yes, the brass,” he said awkwardly.“Ton and a half of it,” I said, “Dubloons, pieces of eight, that sort of. " M-m-my pleasure," I managed to stammer.She giggled again. She had a very musical laugh that came from somewhere in the back of her throat. We were sitting close on the bench and the sun was beginning to set, but I didn't want her to leave. She surprised me again. Leaning closer, she pressed her lips to mine. She gently massaged my cock and I lowered the sketch book to try to cover what she was doing. Her tongue pressed between my lips and I let mine dance against it. She tasted like.
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