Spying My Cousin Bhabhi
"Caroline, it's me," a far-off voice announces."And who is 'me'?" she demands in a soft voice. Her voice is always soft."It's me—Roger," the voice insists. "C'mon, Caroline, don't play games!" What games, Roger?" she laughs, "I haven't spoken to you for so long, I nearly forgot what you sound like."Her retort brings an audible sigh from him and then a quick response."I know—I know; Caroline," pleads the caller. "But I'm going to make it all that up to you this weekend." A single weekend," she pouts, "to make up for all..." Okay, I admit it," he begs, "it's only a start, but this will be special."A pause takes hold of the moment."What did you have in mind?" she purrs. When he doesn't answer she provides the reply."Never mind; I always know what you have in mind. Anyway, I thought you were in Frankfurt. I couldn't possible break away..." I am in Frankfurt, but not for long," he corrects. "The buyout talks broke down. No one was ready. The Germans have to crunch their numbers over the. You chuckle low and deep, watching her melt under your touch. You know exactly how to play this slut, how to make her so fucking lustful and needy. Your grip on her throat tightens just a bit as you sit back, pulling her to you. Your cock it throbbing, aching to be released from it confines, eager to feel the warm wetness of her mouth and her loving care as she takes you deep in her throat. You bring your lips to her ear and whisper huskily, “You know exactly what I want. Mine,” she gasps, her eyes darting to yours once again, daring to defy. Her whisper barely audible, “Yes Sir,” as her trembling hands move to your lap, her nimble fingers unbuttoning and unzipping. The mere thought of your cock causes her breath to quicken as she works the defiant material and finally frees your throbbing fuckmeat. She can’t help the whimper that purrs from her captured throat and you can smell her arousal at the prospect of worshiping such a magnificent organ. You release her throat, noting the.
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