Skinny Indian Wife Hardcore Sex 2
As I closed the door I looked back at her and she was just leaning over placing her things on the bed. Her nightie stretched tightly across her ass. The lighting in the room allowed me to see a dark shadow down her ass crack. I was once again hard. I closed the door without locking it and remembered that she hadn’t locked the door either. Had I missed a chance to join her and not known it? Would she have thrown me out or welcomed me into her arms, I would never know. I undressed and stepped into the shower. The tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner were both half-full and waiting for me. Then I picked up the small bar of used soap. I smiled knowing that I washed my face first, then down my body to my crotch. I wondered if her crotch was the last thing that that bar of soap had touched. I smiled as I washed my face with it. Even if she had washed her ass last I was still a very happy man. I washed my crotch twice to make sure that it was clean, fresh, and free of any trace of my. You surprise me and the stewardess by ordering two Jack and Cokes off the cart, but then you push one at me without asking, giving me a dark little wink. The stewardess raises an eyebrow at us. Dang girl. That was so smooth.Our flirtation escalates as we sip at our drinks. We make each other laugh and blush. You effortlessly work in more contact; your fingernails on my knee, or on my forearm, like the most natural thing in the world. I tingle with your every touch, fixating on you. Drinking in your exposed collarbones, and elegant neck. Your beautiful lips, and sexy freckles. I don’t touch back, playing it cool; but I sorely want to; like, I bitterly, viscerally, feel-it-on-the-back-of-my-tongue want to touch you back.You’re taking me in as well. I see how your emerald eyes dart to my comparatively large hands and partially exposed biceps. I know that – probably despite yourself – you think my disorderly hipsterish man-bun is pretty; that you like the hard line of my chin, and my.
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