Indian Desi Wife Fucked At Home

Her hair was flying everywhere and a huge smile lit up your face. Looking at her, Manan pulled her in firmly after a while and asked her to take a nap... However, she had a few ideas of her own.She took his hand and placed it on her legs. Instinctively, he started exploring her. Upwards, towards her crotch he went, stroking her sensitive inner thighs. A sigh escaped her lips making him smile inside. Even she longed his touch though was too shy to express.A little surprise awaited him as he. Under that coat was a white blouse, silk I figured. Can you believe it? This bitch strutted like a damn model showing off on a runway.She didn’t see me so I quietly shadowed her. She swaggered her wealthy ass toward the expensive cars in the reserved section. In a flash, I made up my mind. I was going to fuck this cunt up, it was my time. Quickly, I looked around, there was no one to be seen. I ran as fast as I could, then launched myself headlong at her. I hit her waist high. We sprawled out. More

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