Desi Indian Housewife Fucked Hard With Raised Legs

It was a service only, an agreement, albeit an unusual and risque one, between two sensible trusting adults.All this went through my head while I too simultaneously stripped below the waist. Once free of my underwear my naked cock stood there, 6 or more inches up against my body, obvious and stiff, absolutely at its maximum already: this I could not hide. I didn't need to hide it, did I? — that's what I was here for. Surely it kind of betrayed my enthusiasm, though, I mused. Hopefully she regarded the sight as 'good news'."Ready?" she said quietly. She took up the aforesaid position on her back on the end of the bed.I tried to read into how much, if any, genuine 'enthusiasm' she might be feeling by the way she opened her thighs. Well, it was good and wide, but not ridiculously gymnastically so."Yes," I said. My manhood ached.I took up position. This entailed me leaning over her and perching my elbows to either side of her, leaving daylight between our torsos and seeking togetherness. My friend, who hosted the party, was dressed as a suicide bomber. The less said about that the better. He had a work friend named Jess, a stunning burnette with pert titties and a killer body. She was dressed as Xena, the warrior princess. I always had a thing for Xena, as many times I'd do a google image search, find a good one, and just jerk off until my hand was sore. Jess was really a stunner and pulled the Xena look off well. Why everyone bitched to my friend over his tasteless outfit, I walked over to Jess. We talked and talked, and it wasn't seemingly going further than that. She caught me staring at hear breast, and I expected a slap. Instead she put her drink on the table, and turned so that her breast were in my face. 'I hope you like these,' she said, do you?' I stammered a yes because I was hammered and a little lose lipped. It was then that she explained that she got kicked out of a movie theater that was doing a showing of Pulp Fiction. A nosy usher busted her fingering.
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