Indian Wife Homemade Video 8

He is wearing a pale golf shirt with the library insignia stitched over the breast and a pair of tan cotton chinos. He has short, medium brown hair, and a beard that has started greying. He is sporting black framed glasses. He looks at me and walks across to sit behind the desk. He leans forward, his gaze intense. When he speaks, his voice is surprisingly deep. At odds with his features, which make him appear mild-mannered, with an almost boyish quality. “Do you know why you’re here?”“I understand but i'd like to explain,” I say.“OK. Explain please.”He looks stern, but I feel a rush of relief at the prospect of being able to clear up this mess. “I just ... I forgot I was holding it.”I feel a trickle of confusion and uncertainty when he says, “Holding what? the book?”I seek to clarify, “Yes. I wasn’t trying to steal it. I just didn't know what was ... I was just grabbing stuff off the shelves.”“Did you like it?” His question brings me up short. He has leaned in and his hand is resting. I can smell your sex from across the room, my well trained senses able to detect that you are sufficiently aroused that should you choose to you could straddle me and I would slip all the way inside you in one single motion. But I prefer things to be even more accommodating, the deluge of a monsoon far more suited to satisfying my thirst than the thin layer of due on a summer morning.My jaw drops, I can literally feel my pupils dilate. A rare occurrence since only the sight of an extremely beautiful woman can have that affect on me and even then it happens only when I’m caught off guard. That one woman at the dinner party that just catches your eye and stops you in your tracks. I can feel my heart beat the way it beats when we are close to each other, no faster than usual but much harder. A couple of seconds after the initial shock of seeing you naked to recover and I am able to compose myself once more. Heart still beating against my ribcage I close my mouth and without a second.
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