Indian Girlfriend Riding Sex Hardcore Homemade Episode

"They won't believe me." "So what..you know that it happened, that's all that matters," I said. I poured a little more lotion on his cock and began st...oking furiously. "Now let's see if we can get all of that stuff out of there, huh." I said. He was very close to cumming. I didn't want him to cum on my seat, or the floor, nor did I want him to come on his shirt. I grabbed some napkins and began to stroke a little faster. "Give it to me," I commanded, "Give it to me, c'mon." It took all of about. .. like some strange fruit I know exists, but never tasted.”“I tasted it,” he said. “I liked it. My wife didn’t, though, and that’s why I don’t have a lot of this in my life.” He squeezed her hip.“I’m honored,” she said, smiling impishly.“Can I taste you now?” he asked, changing the subject with no warning.“I think I’d like that very much,” she said. “You need a shave.”“Please don’t ask me to get up and shave,” he said.“You misunderstand. I like the feel of stubble against the inside of my. He tilted his hips, pushing forward and she stared up at him, her angular eyes opening wide with wonder as he entered her for the first time.“You’re fucking huge,” she groaned, as he slowly and steadily stuffed her full of cock.When he reached her cervix, he paused to let her adjust, and she panted breathily, her chest heaving underneath him.“You’re going to take me into your womb,” he informed her, “It’s good for you to get used to having it stretched. I’ll be breeding your hot little ass. Not that I minded, that much. I would have to be a complete idiot to not appreciate having a pretty girl on my arm.I was just having trouble with the fact that as we strolled through the museum, she seemingly, somehow, kept getting closer to me. Not only that, the red blouse she was wearing was losing buttons. We were checking out a full-scale model of an Albertosaurus when I noticed the button phenomena. When I had picked her up that morning, and on the two hour drive to the museum, her silk.
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