Pure Indian Desi Bhabhi With Foreigner
She was thirty-four and in a semi-happy relationship, but every time the mail came she watched him with hungry eyes. She as losing her mind. Late one Friday evening it was her turn to lock up. Almost all of the employees had left papers strewn about their desks. It was quiet. Brendan came in with an envelope. He set it on a desk. She couldn’t help but stare at him.“Hello, are you the only one here?” “Yes, I’m locking up tonight. What are you still doing here?” she asked a little more breathless than she’d like to admit. Her C cup tits heaved every time her eyes met his. “What are you still doing here?” He walked towards her until she was flush against her cubicle wall.He bent down. “I’ve seen you staring at me.” She blushed. “I would like to fuck you for real like you’ve been doing to me with you’re eyes.”She couldn’t believe her ears. She pushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ears.“That’s hardly appropriate.” “Listen, to me very carefully. I could have reported you that day you. He felt her quiver under his licking. He pushed her other foot aside gently and undid his fly. He pulled his briefs down several inches. His cock sprung out, steel hard. It bobbed in the air between them, taut and focused. She anchored it down against his belly, returned her foot to his crotch. He inhaled sharply at the contact of her sole on the slippery head of his erection. Slowly, he kissed up her calf, twisting his head to lick the back of her knee.“Ohhhhh,” she exhaled.He bit the soft flesh just above her knee and then licked and sucked a path with agonizing patience up to the moist haven between her legs. He pressed her knees apart for better access to her pussy. The plump outer lips were pulsing beyond the confines of her silk thong panties. The crotch panel was soaked with her juice. He pushed aside the panel and licked her dripping slit.“Oh baby,” she crooned. Her toes curled on his hard on.She tasted warm and salty with an undertone of sweetness. He probed her pussy deeply.
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