Cumming In My Desi Wife

. "I do," I whispered up at him, "even if I don'twant to..." His arms tightened around me, gave a little squeeze, and heopened his mouth to protest. To forestall him, I threw him my mostdazzling smile and added, "But I have a _couple_ of minutes..."I sank to my knees, and he released me, knowing what was coming next,his smile becoming a grin as I started to unfasten his pants. One of hishands moved to my air, started running through the silken red tresses,setting my curls to bouncing... my hair was my pride and joy. It fell incurls down to the small of my back, and I was fastidious about caringfor it, so very proud of that fiery mane... it had been my hair thatcaught John's eye, that had caught so many eyes over the years. He knewjust what I liked, tightening his hand into a fist and giving a littletug as I pulled down his pants, freeing that glorious cock of his, and Irewarded him with a low moan... John's cock was absolutely beautiful. Just looking at it, gently bobbingand swaying. And an entirely unappetising bunch they were too. The men were unshaven. The women wore no makeup. Shabby cheap clothes: ill-fitting, unstylish and unprepossessing. The plebs were barely human. They deserved the bullets that tore their bodies apart. They deserved the savage beating they were getting from the security guards that left them barely alive. The most unlucky ones deserved to have their corpses left abandoned in bloody puddles by the kerbside. If Phil wasn't so worried about his safety he'd gladly have left his home to personally deliver the coup de grâce to the bastards himself.There'd been warnings of a possible invasion for several months now not just in Ashton Lovelock but in every affluent village and suburban retreat up and down the Republic. The protests in the big cities had been getting increasingly violent as the unwashed and uneducated proles, plebs, peasants and vagrants remonstrated about their imagined grievances. It was nothing more than whingeing, of course..
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