Desi Andhra Wife’s Home Sex Mms With Husband mp4

He responded:C: No regrets?I texted back:M: Not doing it sooner.I felt like a high schooler again... waiting for my boyfriend to make the inevitable move.A chill went up my spine as I felt his hands on my hips.A chill went up my spine when he lifted me up.I glanced at my husband, who was focused on the road and the down pouring of rain.I felt him pull my thong aside and slowly lower me on his fully erect cock.He texted me, once I was sitting entirely on his dick:C: Let's just sit like this for a while.I nodded.And for the next hour I sat on my son's cock. I wanted to ride on it, or grind on it, yet I just sat on it. I tried to read a book, but that was useless. Instead, I just let the longest tease of my life drive me wild.When the rain finally stopped, Alex said, "How you guys doing back there?" Just making the most out of a tight spot," my son quipped."Yes, it seems even a bit tighter back here than it was yesterday," I said back."Should we stop?" Alex asked. "There is a truck stop. “I just wish I could have a relationship like you have with your wife Mr. Lucien,” I say with glum having dealt with the heaviness of feeling particularly alone today. I guess it was just one of those days where I felt the darkness more than usual. “Yeah I’d have to agree with you. I’ve been missing that connection with somebody too. It really eats away at you,” Mr. Lucien says with a somber tone while he leans back in his chair staring idly by at his computer. “See I knew you’d understand what I was saying. It just sucks that it….,” I trail off my thought, slapped in the face as my brain finally understands what he so casually threw out there that I almost dismissed it. My head had been down with my jaw resting in the palm of my hands but I quickly, yet discreetly glance up from the floor tiles and see him leaning back with his hands together like he was praying but with his fingers outstretched. I see the shine of his gold wedding band off the fluorescent lighting. I always admired.
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