Desi Indian Hot Wife Fucked By Her BF

When I was done, I felt hands on my hips and my father murmuring something about squirting my mother. I felt what at first I thought was his finger touch my opening. Then I realized that if his hands were gripping my hips that could only be his penis. He pressed forward and ran the head over my pussy. Pushing forward, it was deflected downward and I was both happy and sad it hadn't gone in. The he sawed his shaft against my lips and I realized he was getting it wet. Pulling back, he positioned. Meanwhile, a slave girl– or perhaps a naked stagehand– walked up behind the stretching frame and removed the chastity shield. As wendy’s cock unfolded and grew, the slave girl slid something over it. The device was a thick, clear tube about three inches long that apparently had a bladder of some sort around the inside of it. I couldn’t tell if the bladder was filled with air or warm liquid, but it was liberally greased with something. The girl began moving it slowly up and down wendy’s cock. “I’m going to come all over them,” I said. “And then you’re going to sit here and watch the television or read the paper while my spunk dries on you.” Angela moaned and the way her pussy clenched made my cock vibrate dangerously. “Did I say you could touch your pussy, slut?” “N-no.” Angela gasped. “Master.” “Master? I like the sound of that.” It was amazing how quickly this had happened. Looking down, my cock was shiny with Angela’s pussy juice, juice that I wanted to taste. “Give me your. "Why don't you and I check out the entrances to the office area and then the ones to the dressing rooms," I said."Good plan," Rodney agreed.What we found was a area with only two accesses that was the office area. There were four offices, all but one of which, were being used by the tour personnel. The other one was the arena manager's office. Rodney and I checked his office to be sure it was not a threat. Of course it wasn't, but we had to be careful.We went down to check the dressing room the.
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