Fucking Hot Indian Girlfriend 13
The half-limp, drooping shaft began to harden in her hands. As she touched and played with the meaty pole, it stiffened into a fully erect, muscular timber.The girl spoke again, “Yes Sir, this is a really nice thing you have. It’s not too soft. It’s not too hard. Why, it’s just right! May I kiss it?”Again, I did not speak. I stared into her curious, blue eyes. My head again nodded in an up and down motion which indicated, “Yes.”The blue-eyed blonde knelt on the floor between my legs. My cock was still in her hands. Her lips, her sweet soft lips, gently caressed my flesh. She kissed the throbbing shaft up and down its entire length.A small tongue darted from her mouth and touched my cock skin with moisturized fire. She began licking. She licked and kissed up and down and around and around my pulsating meat.She stopped for a second, looked at mystified face, and said, “Oh Sir, it tastes good. It’s not too tart. It’s not too sweet. Why it’s just right! May I suck it?”Finally, I found my. Which he was, considering he was here last week, using that same excuse. I gave him a knowing look and went back to what I was doing, at the same time watching him as he walked toward one of the paintings. I couldn’t ignore what was happening here, but I wasn’t ready to accept it. There were too many feelings still inside me, too much fear to let someone back in right now. Part of me wanted to, somewhere inside me I was craving everything that this man could potentially give me. It was silly to feel that way, considering I’d known him for less than a month. But when I was around him, I felt comfortable, safe, admired. “I think I want this one.” He said, pointing at the watercolor he was standing in front of. “You want to buy it?” I questioned. “Yeah.” I knew this was a pity purchase. My gallery was not booming, but I was doing well enough, all things considered. I didn’t want him buying one of my paintings, because he thought I needed him to. “It’s sold.” I lied. “Damn, I really.
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