Mateur Saas Aur Damaad Ki Rishton Mai Chudai

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Me: “Why always to your room? Today let me enjoy her.”Mom started giggling, hearing this. Dad got angry and said, “How dare you say that? You fuck her when I’m at home. Isn’t that enough?”Me: “But the night is different. She will be the horniest at night. I’ve seen you both fucking. See here ”I responded and went ahead and squeezed her boobs hard. My mom moaned.Me: “Can you make her moan like that?” and squeezed again.Dad immediately pulled her by her navel and lip-locked with her. Mom was enjoying the kiss and kept sucking him with eyes closed. She looked like the bitch she always has been in that look, but I was pissed off.I pulled her back. Before she could open her seductive eyes and look, I started licking her all over her face, and she was moaning again. Pulling her back and forth, her saree had fallen down, and only her blouse and petticoat were remaining.The bitch was wearing both in black color and looked as sexy and slutty as possible. As I kept licking the bitch, my dad. While the rest of the class was focused on the reading material, I started focusing on her legs. I don't think it helped that I was in the front row. She had on black stockings with open toed strappy pumps. I had developed a thing for stocking feet ever since a family friend came over and spent the evening with her shoes off. The little voice in my head started to chastise me for lusting after this old lady. But I began to debate myself. If she was 30 or 40 years younger, my fellow teenage males would probably be gawping at her the same way they and I lusted for the sexy brunette librarian Mrs. Kozlowski.I reasoned with myself that even though she might be a granny Mrs Heck was still a woman with excellent legs. In fact the fact that the advanced age was such a taboo it was more of a turn-on. Like she was an erotic secret only I had the brains (and sexual desire) to discover. Soon class ended but the stirring in my loins didn't. I came back to the classroom on my lunch break and.
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Without skipping a beat, she pulls on her sports bra, a vest top and jogging bottoms. She grabs her pink and white trainers, and sings as she as bounces past me again, down the stairs and off to the gym. Had this not been the case this morning, the sound of the front door slamming shut would have been enough for me to be bounding quickly down the stairs after her, desperately searching through the laundry basket for the gift she had left me. Today though, I would have to wait a little while longer, but I was not dismayed. She had gone to the gym to perfect her gift to me. When she returns, my normal routine will be able to resume and I would be even more grateful for it. She was gone for about an hour as is usually the case. The door swinging open beneath me allowing her scent to rush up the stairs announcing her return. Sitting up in bed, I could see her. Her dark brown hair tied up on top of her head, glistening with sweat. Her face beaming with warmth, her vest top almost.

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