Hubby Fucked And Fingering His Indian Wife Horny Pussy

I wanted the tension and the desire to build. We had a lot of similar interests, and soon our flirting resumed. “You’re body looks incredible by the way, you must work out all the time.” “It’s kind of like a second home” I admitted, “But what about you? You can’t tell me that bikini body of yours just happened by accident!” “I do some stuff here and there” she said, “I just like to be sure I look good naked.” “I’ll bet you look much better than good” I countered. “Wanna find out?” she asked. It was nearing midnight and I said, “Let’s get out of here.” “Good idea,” she answered. I paid our tab and we headed for the door. We agreed to head back to my place because it was closer. We hopped in our cars and she followed me back to my apartment. I poured us a couple glasses of red wine and took a seat right next to each other on my couch, our thighs side by side touching. “Tonight’s been a lot of fun, thanks for coming out with me” I said. “It has been! I’ll admit I always thought you. But then I had a sudden inspiration: I let go of his cock and, moistened the middle finger of my right hand, lowered it to his still-sopping crotch and shoved the finger straight into his ass. ‘Oh my GOD!’ Matt shouted. I pulled the finger out, pushed it back in, back out, back in. I found the hard nut of his prostate and pressed it with my finger-tip. A shudder went through him. I took his cock back in my mouth and sucked while I finger-fucked him. Thirty seconds was all it took. I felt his asshole contract around my finger, his cock swelled even larger and I felt a gush of cum in my throat. I pistoned my finger into his ass again, and a second stream of jizz poured into me. I pressed my mouth as far down on his cock as I could, almost to the point of gagging, and a third jet surged into my throat. Matt wasn’t just moaning or whimpering, he was sobbing. I let go of his cock and lifted my head to look at him, tears were streaming down the sides of his face into his hair. I pulled.
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