Fucking Hot Indian Girlfriend 7

Even in plain clothing, people stare at my big boobs as if they’ve never seen breasts before. I admit it makes me feel good sometimes. But today is not one of those days.In my anger towards my parents, I left all my clothes they bought me. It’s too late to change this outfit. The only thing I can do is cover my top with a brown scarf that I had. I’m sure the addition of the scarf will make me more decent, especially with my black pencil skirt.I like the way the skirt has beautifully molded over my hips and shows off my long legs. At least I got this right. I fix my make up and pick up my handbag with all the essentials and hurry out to catch the bus. I let out a sigh of relief when I got to the bus stop on time.But my relief was short-lived. As I was about to get on the bus, a bunch of sweaty college guys came out of nowhere, looking as if they’ve come straight from sports practice. They pushed me in. I nearly lose my balance, but one of them put his arm forward and breaks my. It was the perfect night, trailing in the wake of her magnificence, the sexual tension between us so thick that it was almost palpable; an invisible tether that tied me to her side as strongly as any leash. We made our way slowly through the manse, taking our time to indulge in little moments of gratification; a shared kiss or more, her fingers pinching my nipples, twisting them until I begged for mercy, slipping into my undergarment, worming their way between my labia, stealing away my breath, and enticing animal moans from deep within. Had she but asked, I would have given myself to her many times over that night. She, however, had other ideas, which I would discover soon enough. “Trust me, pet?” She whispered, standing behind me, lips pressed to my ear, hands resting possessively on my shoulders. I replied simply, with a wordless shiver, unable to tear my gaze from the glint of metal before me. She’d led my down a steep and narrow stair into a lightless room, the candle she’d.
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