Homemade Indian Aunty Fucked By Husband With Creampie

I give them a soft squeeze. You try not to react but cant help it. My hands have already begun to lift your dress. My probing fingers slide up and dow... between your cheeks. My left hand slides around the front and dips into your panties snaking its way to your pussy. I kneel down and pull your panties down do your knees and slide my hands back up your thighs. You look nervously around for anyone that might come upon us. As my fingers slide between your folds, you sigh and your wet pussy. With the worry to disappoint him my wife had agreed on one night out. Later that evening my wife 'Raquel' ran the idea and plan bye me. I totally disagreed with the hole thing. Raquel out on the town late at night with a rich french executive did not sit right with me. So Raquel came up with the idea that could be there. I would be the limousine driver for them, but I could not say that I was the husband no matter what happens. With that idea it sounded alright.Saturday night came around and I. . looking as hot as ever in a red dress.She took me home and fed me. Then she came out with her proposal. Rob she said I know you are in dire straits and in desperate need of a job. I also know how much you love me. SO my offer to you is till you get a job you can stay over at my place. There is however one condition. You will have to live as a girl, do my household chores and follow my orders without question. If anyone finds out I have a man living with me than I will be in trouble. This is. “Lynn! I know what our little wife is thinking.” Erin smiled.“NO! I was not thinking that!” Blossom blushed.“Lynn, I think she is thinking that.” Erin’s smile got wider.“Erin?” Lynn paused for a few seconds before the lightbulb went on. “Blossom, you little vixen!”“No! I am not. I wasn’t. Shit. It just popped in my head. I just thought ‘Oh, no milk. Where’s Erin?’.”I broke out laughing. I was laughing so hard my side and head hurt. Lynn was also laughing, though not as hard as me. Erin was just.
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