Hot Indian Fucked On Motel Bed
I imagine the steam swirling around her legs and the water running down her body. I imagine me being in there with her. standing behind her, reaching around and massaging those beautiful full breasts. I Imagine her moaning my name as she backs her incredible ass into me. Ohhhhh… James.“James?” Her voice calls out from the bathroom“Yes?” I call back, snapping out of my daydream and clearing my throat.“Sorry would you mind passing my the razor out of one of the shopping bags? I forgot to bring it in here with me”“Um… sure”, I reply as I dig though the shoppings bag until i find a fancy looking pink razor encased in plastic.“Do you want me to open it for you?”“Oh yes thanks”Reaching into the second kitchen drawer I find a pair of scissors and cut open the packaging.Walking down the hall to the bathroom, I knock on the door.“Hey Emily, is it alright for me to come in?”A muffled“ yes yes come in.” comes from the other side of the door.Opening the door I turn around and cast my eyes down. They were cruel, miserly people and treated the deserted children under their care with hideous lack of concern. From the age of 4 I was required to undertake domestic duties and oft felt the sting of Mrs Crabtree’s rough, large hand for any misdemeanor I might have, or might not have committed. It is true I was a fractious child, prone to hiding, to laziness, to argument. I was given the name Jess Jenkins by the said Mrs Crabtree. She said she had so named me because her uncle had a dog called Jess which liked to bite and a teacher called Jenkins whose great pleasure was to weald a heavy leather strap. At the age of 6 I ran away from that awful place and fell among other children of the street. Of my time there I will not reveal all, save to confess to having thieved for my sustenance and, when I had grown to a semblance of womanhood, to selling my body. I was by no means alone. For a lone girl with no protection her only source of income was, had she been blessed with a countenance.
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