Desi Indian Wife Pussy Fuking mp4

As the evening passed away and the drinks were flowing freely we all got a bit tipsy the chat a little bit more naughty when Mavis asked Tony if he was going to miss anything while Sally was away or was he going to take it all in his hand and sort himself out, even I hadn't expected that, or was it just my mind working overtime ?." Refills I think" Mavis said, exposing more of her breasts as she pushed herself out of the armchair, and making her way into the kitchen to get fresh drinks out of the fridge. Before returning to the living room she had tucked her loose t shirt into her skirt and her hard nipples were unmissable they were that prominently pressing against the material. Sitting back down she made a show of exposing her thong, it looked as wet as her nylon white knickers had back when we had returned home from the pub that night two months ago. I guess the alcohol had done its job because Tony whispered to me that Mavis had been teasing him all night and he needed to get. I imagined sucking him to fullness, the delightful feeling of chamois shaft and flared head slithering over my pierced tongue, nudging the entrance to my throat as he reached to guide my head where he needed it. I could almost feel his grip tightening, bunching a fistful of hair, the telltale sweetness of pre-come oozing from his bulbous tip to lubricate my actions further, each thrust into my warm, wet mouth pushing us both closer to the edge.But finishing him off between my lips was not my goal. At least, not those lips. Ignoring the stares of the customers, I pictured standing, pulling him up with me, spinning to place my palms against the cool glass of the giant mirror and pressing back against his hard cock, inviting him to tear my Kermit green leggings and snowflake panties down. To slide inside me fully, repeatedly, forcefully without regard for my well-being. To take me, grab my tits, pull my hair, and snarl filthy names in my ear. No beginning, no end, just each hot, sweaty.
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