Indian Bhabhi Masturbates Herself mp4

She asked me to turn around, so I did so, facing the bench and wall as she draged my shorts down, my penis spring free to smack audibly against my belly. I felt her hands move down my legs, and then a clicking sound. I looked down to realize that she had just fastened a set of fur-lined cuffs around my ankles and snapped them to the bottom legs of the bench. She pushed me forward, and as I fell she grabbed one arm, then the other, fastening them similarly to the other end. I began to appreciate the design of the bench in a different light now. The seat of the bench ran from just below my neck to just above my waist, then the bench legs went out at an angle, leaving me open to the air from the belly button to mid-thigh. I couldn't see what she was doing, but I could still smell her private aroma, and that maintained my flagging erection.She slid a footstool beneath my chin, lifting my head so I could see the slit in her panties and smell the juices that were already gathered there. As. Was this it? The smell of our sex filled the bedroom, washing over me like an aphrodisiac mist. I loved that smell. My own wet pussy and the acrid smell of his spunk. I licked my lips and caught a taste as it dried on my face. I felt a tug on my arm, “Come ‘ere” he said, and I crawled up from between his legs to his side. I felt him guide me into that spot which all men seem to like, right into the crock of his arm. He kicked up the sheet with his free leg, then pulled it half over us. All I could think was, “no, no, no, I don’t want to stop!” but I snuggled in beside him, enjoying the press of our naked bodies. I felt his hand reach out to my breast and pull it across his chest like a soft fleshy blanket. His eyes were still closed and I was getting disgusted. I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to rest. I just wanted to be fucked. As my mind raced along, I became aware of his hand, softly kneading at my breast. No nipple play, just pushing and squeezing as much as.
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