Late Night Head W My Indian Friend

It wasn't just the hardened pink buds of your nipples trapped between my fingers. It was that first slow, tentative breach inside where I trembled as...all of me was tightly sheathed.It was the way you whispered my name again and again. A dark chant. A loving prayer. A primal plea. A slow and throaty exhale against my ear as your hips writhe, as my arms lock around your back and move with you, deeper into your feverish, nectar-soaked tunnel. Even then, I knew it was a sound that only a soulmate. He kept going on about how I should get a boyfriend etc. I simply did the girlie thing and giggled. In the end he stood just inches from me he towered over me when I stood however sitting down his 6 feet 3 ins dwarfed me. Right in front of me was his zipper. I inched it down as he spoke. Like a lot of guys of his age he wore nothing underneath and out flopped a half hard cock. It was always thick even after he had cum his muck but horny like this is looked huge in my hands. Yes both hands he. Unhone kaha: Haa theek hai.Fir maine laptop side wali table par rakh diya, aur main bas leta hua tha. Warda aunty bhi leti hui thi. Unhone apna hath mere upar rakha hua tha. Fir unhone apni taang mere upar rakh li. Mujhe yakeen nahi ho raha tha, ki wo mujhe ishara kar rahi thi. Fir himmat karke maine bhi apna hath un par rakha.Fir unhone kaha: Haris, I love you.Maine bhi unko kaha: I love you too aunty.Unhone kaha: Mujhe apna hath do.Fir maine unko apna hath diya. Unhone apni kameez se ek boob. He especially liked to pussy whip her. She would be bound, face up, her legs spread wide and pulled back, her pussy lips opened wide, her pink pussy exposed. Sometimes he would force his cock in her mouth and feel her screams of pain on his cock as the whip beat her defenseless pussy, tearing into her young flesh. The whip would turn the flesh red and tender with the whip often hitting her exposed clit. Once her pussy was tender, he would fuck her brutally, forcing her to feel it bump and lump.
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