Indian Hot Village Bhabhi Fingering

Jay returned to his house and locked the front door. When he arrived back in his bedroom, his hot rage had abated to something cooler and more calculating. He looked at his debauched bride with a gaze that reflected the cold anger he was flooded with.“You will answer my questions. You will be truthful or so help me…” Jay seethed.“I’ll do anything you ask, just don’t hurt me,” Maggie interrupted.“Have I EVER physically harmed you, Mags?” Jay asked with a touch of hurt and sadness.“No, Baby,” she answered, hoping that she could sweet-talk him into calmness. Maggie felt relief when he asked his question, punctuated with his pet name for her.“Don’t you fucking call me baby, Mags. Just answer my fucking questions. First, why? Why would you fuck around on me? And with Marty of all people?” His questioning was mostly calm but the hurt he felt resonated with his tone.“He made me feel sexy and naughty. Like when you and I first met and dated. Before we calmed down and fell seriously in love. I. I checked that the house really was empty, poured myself a glass of white wine and began to read for the last time before publication, the story Debbie had related in so much pleasurable detail.*‘Slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap!’“Yes! Oh yes!”I screamed wildly into the pillow, hoping my wailing voice was muffled enough not to be heard outside the open bedroom window but quite unable to hold myself back. Beneath my knees, the ancient bedsprings bounced and complained at the treatment they were receiving for the fifth time in only three days.‘Slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap!’“Fuck me! Oh yes, fuck me!”Philip’s fingers dug hard into the fleshy part of my hips as he pulled me back onto his violently thrusting cock, its head pummelling my cervix as it had so many times over the last thirty-odd years. I could feel the front of his hairy thighs rasping against the soft underside of mine, feel his tight sack slamming against the base of my clitoris, my sagging boobs dangling.
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