Love In India Compilations

When it was time, he sat me on his desk with my bottom and heels at the edge. I leaned back and closed my eyes, doing just what he told me.He stood between my legs and went back to kissing me, making his way down my body. This time, his kisses had nothing tender about them but took me into a different world, nip by nip, snarling. He separated my lips to expose my moist opening, and then bent to taste my warm salt. I cried out when he found my hard nodule buried deep within my folds, gasped, and moved to give him easier access. He prodded and nuzzled, then dipped deep into my inviting opening to taste and explore. I was hardly aware of anything but the hot pulses of feeling coursing through me. Every place he touched or kissed burned its way through to the ultimate spot deep within that tingled with fire and yearning. My breath came faster, my cries of pleasure became louder until the sensation reached its peak and I came and came, holding on for dear life as the roller coaster of. I didn’t want to just stare at him forever while crossing the café floor, I did everything in my power to not look at him and when I finally did look at him for the final two seconds of my journey, I could tell that he knew it. Finally, I could read him. I found something in his expression. I was vulnerable. I could tell that he knew he made me uncomfortable. I felt like he was inside my head: that he felt the lovely flips my stomach made whenever his face popped into my head. It was a very violating feeling, however, I was almost glad that he knew how I felt. He held the door for me as I exited and I immediately moved to the left to allow him to lead me wherever we were going. I followed him to the absolute back of the library to a stairwell that I didn’t even know existed. We went down another floor. I finally broke the silence. “I thought the Basement Bean was on the bottom floor.” I wondered. “That’s what they want to you think is the bottom floor.” He said and yes, I could hear.
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