Horny Indian Girl Doggy Fuck

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There was a faint click before I felt the unmistakable cool, viscous drizzle of our favorite lubricant begin coating me.I smiled.But not one hand touched me. Two did.Firmly gripping me, your hands began long, twisting, slow…wonderfully agonizing…strokes.“Open your eyes.”You knelt between my legs, elbows on the bed, eyes alternately watching your hands and my face, My eyes went from your hands to your face to your delicious ass rising behind you. I wanted to take in all at once. My cock lurched. That brought a smile to your face.“Like?” you asked as your hands twirled firmly over my swollen head, causing my hips to push upward involuntarily.“I will take that as a ‘yes’.”There was no immediacy in your stroking, though there was purpose. It was steady, then twisting, then slow. Then damn slow. Never fast. Clearly you wanted this to last until you decided otherwise. Nothing was in my control, and that was OK with me.I closed my eyes again, concentrating on nothing but your hands.In no. I’m not usually so mean and you… you are spectacular.’ Darren couldn’t believe what was happening. Was it working? Could things really be this easy from now on? He had to test this out further, and he’d always wondered what the company of two gorgeous women would be like. ‘Hi Amy, I’m Darren. From this point on you exist to bring me joy per my desire. I have a job for you starting right now.’ ‘Yes Darren?’, she said pleasing and expectantly. ‘I want you to go back into that bar and convince a beautiful girl to come outside here with you and meet me.’ Without hesitation Amy threw her cigarette down and walked directly into the bar. Darren spent several anxious minutes waiting to see if his instructions had worked, then much to his relief he saw Amy coming out with a drop dead gorgeous latina in tow. ‘Darren, this is Felicia. Felicia, you just have to meet Darren, trust me when I say there’s more to him than first glance.’ Felicia stuck out her hand looking skeptical, but Darren moved.
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Do you understand, sissy?’ “Yes, sir. I do understand, Sir,” she said, pitching her voice higher than usual. ”Good. Since you will be adopting the role of the woman of the house, I think it is only appropriate that you have a tour, don’t you?” “Sir, yes Sir.” ”Prance, sissy.” Turning his back, he headed toward the stairs. With wrists limp and heels clacking behind to keep up, she followed him up the stairs. He went to the room where she had changed. ”This is your room, where you will sl**p and dress. You may repair to it only at night, or when I say you may. Is this clear, sissy?” “Sir, yes Sir.” ”I will be making some minor modifications to it later, but you needn’t be concerned about that. Let’s keep going. Mince, sissy.” Lowering her arms to the straightened position, she followed along. ”Here is the Master bedroom. You will not enter hear except to make my bed in the morning, or when I call you. Is that understood?” “Sir, yes Sir.” ”Prance sissy,” he snapped, turning again to.

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