I Usually Go For The Thick Girls, But I Like...

Sardarji. By the time the taxi reached the outskirts of Mumbai, we had introduced ourselves to each other. The woman’s name was Swati and her husband’s name was Prashant. She told me that they were visiting one of their close relatives in Pune. During the conversation, she kept touching me but I wasn’t objecting because she was a woman. But, as the taxi went past Panvel, her hands were becoming bolder. Somehow, I did not object to her touching me as I felt some warmth as it was still heavily pouring all the way. She smiled at me and I returned the smile, which I think she totally misunderstood and took me for granted. By the time our taxi had reached the ghat roads, she slowly began rubbing her hand on my thigh through my churidar pajama. I wasn’t objecting as I loved the way she was using her palms to caress my thighs and legs gently and soon closed my eyes to enjoy the fun. She got bolder and her left hand cupped my crotch and started teasing it. She used her fingers to rub my clit. . but god dammit I was gonna fuck my perfect little twat, and I wasn’t asking permission. I put and arm around her waist and gripped her hair in my other hand and forced her to my face and kissed her, but her protesting yells were dangerously close to out sounding the fans. I yanked her to the wall, my arm keeping the hit against the wall from being alarming or alerting to her mother, then I let go of her hair and clamped my hand over her mouth, doing well to muffle her noises. I went up close and looked in her eyes. “You think you are taking this pussy away from me? Really? After all the effort I put in? This fucking cunt is mine sweetie, it ain’t up to you.” Mandy’s eyes got wide as my other hand went between her legs from behind and I slid my finger around the bottom of her panties, my knuckles feeling the heat of her fertile twat. I yanked down, hard. “MMMM-MMMMM!” Mandy groaned into my hand, her eyes squinting. Her thighs had yanked together at the knee, her undies.
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