Indian House Wife Fucked By Delivery Boy

As I watched from the sofa, Pete had both his hands on her butt gently pulling my wife against him. It looked like she was rubbing her pelvis against his leg as they slowly turned to the music. Between his hands and her rubbing against his leg, her dress was riding up and in no time it was high enough his hands made contact with her pantyhose. I was pretty sure Kathi would notice this and pull her dress back down, but I was pleased to see she did not. By the time the song ended, Pete had his hands rubbing the bottom of her cheeks gently squeezing with his fingers.When the next song started, Jack got up and I figured he was going to cut in on Pete. Instead, he went up behind Kathi and lifted her dress up a little higher and slid his hands on to her waist under the dress. I watched as his hands slid up and down rising and lowering the bottom of her dress exposing her waist and pantyhose covered bottom. Pete had stopped turning to the music and they were just swaying in place as the soft. Not now…I’ll wait. There’s so much to do and the dog needs a walk and here he is sitting down with a long saved bottle opened just long enough. His pocket knife slipped out, and sliced open the seal. It was like she had stepped into the room across all the miles between. It had been years, but the handwriting leapt out at him like a coiled viper, striking him in the heart. What had it been, 2 years since the last time he saw her, since he stood at her back door and watched it closed in front of him? And why now? Why now? Yet…Her words were soft and smooth in his mind, the sound of her voice still sounded the same after the long absence. And why not? Behind and under everything else, she was there. She was always there. Even in the arms of another he could not lose her entirely. No matter the distance, time, or other companionship, it was always her. Her words were soft. Nothing but a greeting, a wish for a happy birthday, and some kind words of comfort. The walls began to move in a.
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