Hot Indian Wife Gets Pounded Passionately Loud Orgasms

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Akram the mason started kissing my face; he was very rough. Then he attempted to go for French kissing; he had clue how to do it; he started licking my lips and when I opened my mouth I had to guide his tongue inside. Man 1 and man 2 were still sitting and slapping my ass and opening my ass cheeks, it was more like checking an animal before slaughter. All of them had big strong and rough hands, which I liked somehow. My 5 inch cock was erect and balls were also tight. My nipples were tingling with excitement and somewhat cold made them hard and super erect. Just then the Watchman came in holding a tray with several cups of tea; as soon as he saw the scene at hand; he shouted something in shear excitement in local language.He placed the tray of the floor and without wasting a second got rid of all his clothes. He was one large bear, covered in thick hair all over his body and a semi-erect cock 6 inches in length and might thick like zinger burger. He came over in between myself and. ”That word, I wanted that every time she said it. She turned to the wall. Flicking her long hair over one shoulder, she looked back. That smouldering look jettisoned any niceties onto the raging fire. Back curled, flanks tight, she presented her glossy sex framed by that luscious behind.The ultimate provocation, I growled, “You are not wearing any panties.”“Non, put it in me.”The carriage rocked, it rattled the door, and nothing would deter me. I rubbed the corpulent head up and down her sodden entrance. My hand on her shoulder for purchase, I pressed it in. Engulfed in taut heat, the quick stabbing motions stole her breath.Tightening my grip, she took it to the hilt.“Oof, you are very hard.”I drove faster, “You are very wet.”The rewards of that wet friction destroyed my self-control. Urgent, maddened by the situation, Elodie rasped between breaths for more. Sticky sounds and syrupy heat, I fucked her for those pulses of pleasure.Pulling on her waist, my eagerness swayed her.
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He just wanted to empty himself into this magnificent vessel. Her shoulders seemed to burn under his fingertips. He thrust himself against her and crushed his lips on hers…and immediately felt like vomiting. His flagstaff flopped and he dashed for her bathroom where he spent the next half hour ‘worshipping the porcelain goddess.’ He was curious that not once did Gerta come to comfort him or even ask after his health. When he finally emerged, weak and ashamed, he saw why. She was fast asleep in bed, the covers up to her chin. He bent to kiss her angelic face, felt a wave of nausea and thought better of it. He was tempted to head for his couch, but duty called. Perhaps later, when the effects of the bad chianti wore off, he could ‘go back to work.’ So he crawled into the bed beside her and pulled the covers chastely up to his chin. He snapped awake when something huge kicked him onto the floor. It had to be her, a great convulsive kick in her sleep, but it felt like a caterpillar.

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