Indian Wife Sharing

Her long legs stretched out before her as she held her head in her hands, and her short and tattered denim skirt had ridden up revealing her black panties. Her shoulders heaved as she sobbed, running her hands through her brittle spiky blonde dyed hair wondering what to do next."What's up little one?" said a voice from above her and Julie raised her tear stained face and instead of seeing some lecherous old man hoping she was a prostitute who he could have a drunken fumble with, she saw a vision before her. The woman towered over her, she was tall and elegant and probably just over 40. Her almost Amazonian figure was clad in what was obviously a designer label trouser suit that just enhanced her statuesque appearance. Julie knew she must look a state as she could see the mascara stains on her hands from where her make-up had run, no doubt causing her to look like a bedraggled panda."What's it to you?" she snarled at the woman before burying her head back in her hands and beginning to. I am puzzled, then I realise she wants to know my unit number. I use my fingers to signal 215. She puts her bikini top back on and skips to the entrance on my side of the courtyard.I hear the intercom buzz, and I release the downstairs door for her. Soon, she knocks on my unit door and I open it, seeing her lovely body up close now. I let her in, and after closing the door, I say, "Hi, I'm...," but she cuts me off with "Shhh," holding her finger to her lips.So it's that way - an anonymous fuck. I smile at her and lead the way to my bedroom. She follows and whips off her bikini, dropping it to the floor.As I reach the side of the bed, she shoves me onto it, on my back. She gets between my legs, spreading them wide and planting her sweaty body on mine. She kisses me and rubs her full boobs against my little ones.Her pussy presses on mine. Her full, curly bush is rubbing between my pussy lips. My clit gets hard and feels the bush hairs scraping it. I moan and grab her hips, pulling her.
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