Punjabi Indian Wifeandy 2
You are starting to try to whine again, when suddenly you feel my hands spreading you. “Ty what are you- Ohhhhh God.” You say it forcefully, and I grin as I lick up your pussy from behind. “I’m pretty sure that’s sacrilegious….” “Mmm shut up you can’t use your tongue if you are talking!” I grin at your urgency, but I agree so I turn back to the task. I am on my knees behind your butt, your lovely back arched and my hands spreading you open to me as I lap and lick, nibble and suck. Your moans grow in frequency, and I slide my right hand up to your pussy pressing a finger slowly in you as you gasp. I work it in and out of you at a teasing pace, and then bring my mouth back and attack your juicy hole with my tongue, fucking you with it and then flicking at your clit, alternating until I feel that shaking in your legs come to a tense end, your body poised in its release. I draw back with a few slow licks, bringing your shuddering slowly down. Spreading your cheeks again, I can’t. And almost gagged. A night like every other night.The stupid prick couldn't seem to understand that I can identify the smell of cunt on his cock. Sometimes I even tell myself that I can tell the difference between the smells of the various sluts that he fucks, but deep down I know that I'm kidding myself. I could only hope and pray that it hadn't been my sister or my daughter. What I am sure of is that I've had my nose up inside enough cunts myself to know that I wasn't smelling cock-sweat from any gym.I twisted my head away but a firm hand grabbed my chin and pulled it back to where he wanted it to be. Two thumbs silently pressed against my cheeks, forcing my mouth open until it formed the circle that he wanted, just wide enough for his cock.He had been in my life for maybe two years. I had just come back on the market. It was about a month after my husband had driven off a cliff with his girlfriend. At the funeral, I couldn't help wondering if she had been sucking his cock when he.
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