Indian Friend’s Wife WhatsApp Video Call With Lover Part 2
She would have a finger or two inside, and I’d be rubbing her tingling clitoris. Or I’d have a handful of her pussy and Tammy’s index finger and thumb would be squeezing her clit. At one point she had four fingers buried while I had my hand covering hers, with my middle finger stretched very low to tickle her bare asshole. And those tits! I had soft billowy tits pressed against my biceps from both sides. I could feel Beth’s nipples running back and forth across my arm as she nonchalantly. So, so naughty. You spread your legs and undulate as I fuck you. You moan. And the moan turns into a long wail. ‘Good girl. Good girl.’ I hold my cock deep inside you as you writhe in your pleasure. ‘Good little girl. That’s my baby.’ You are gasping. You are crying. You are spent and fulfilled, saying softly, shakily, ‘Oh, my God — Oh, my God — Oh, my God.’ My hands are on your hips. ‘I love you, little girl.’ You suddenly sob, ‘Oh, Daddy — Oh, I love you sooooo much.’ You cover your face with. “Oh God,” I gush, “I love cock!” “I can tell,” you reply, smiling down at my submission. “Do it.” Obediently, I stoop to drag my tongue up the front of your engorged prick, tracing your cum pipe from balls to frenulum drawing an encouraging gasp of approval from above. I can feel the heat from your cum gun on my face as I drag my teeth down the side of your shaft. “Oh suck it,” you plead, “suck my cock,” once more trying to penetrate my mouth, “C’mon, before someone sees.” But I’m still not. "We were just eating ou-eh, out eating lunch," said Kate, stumbling over her words. She began to feel embarrassed, but no one had noticed her slip up.That night at dinner, everything returned to normal. It was exactly the same as it was all the other times Alex had returned home from college. They sat about, eating another one of their father's delicious meals (he was a chef at a local high-end restaurant), and talking about themselves. Alex talked about some events that had been happening at.
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