Indian Mom Masturbating

When he arched his hand just right, she could feel the firm pressure of his fingers. She was getting some of what she wanted. He moved them up and down. Each time he came closer to her firm clit already peeking out between her folds. Alaina’s hips were no longer grinding round and round. She was now rocking them, making her sex more accessible. Her body welcomed the feel of what he was doing to her and the material that separated her skin from his seemed intrusive. She sighed, pressing her backside into him more firmly and then pressing herself into his hand. Her pants had a side zipper. She felt her pants loosen as he slid the tiny piece of metal down. She felt him find the top of the silky triangle that barely shielded where he planned to go. Alaina made no effort to stop him. She parted her legs as his hand slipped between them. Suddenly, they dipped together and as they rose, his hand moved toward her center. She was so wet already. He smoothed what was there back through her. Not that she was in a huge hurry, but she didn’t feel like doubling the length of her trip. She walked carefully the rest of the way, worried that walking too quickly might be asking for trouble, and kept one hand swinging loosely by her side, ready to snap into action if her skirts caught a guest of wind again. She cutting down a narrow laneway next to the market building when the wind struck again. She immediately snapped her arms to her sides to hold her skirt in place but an appreciative whistle from behind her told her she hadn’t been fast enough and her face flushed with embarrassment. She turned around and gave a sarcastic smile to a couple of guys she hadn’t realized were behind her. If she had to guess they were probably in their late teens, probably skipping school. Then she looked down at the ground and realized that her purse strap had become unbuckled and it had fallen on the ground, a couple of items falling out. Conscious of her predicament she very carefully squatted.
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