Indian Wife Shared With Best Friend mp4

Ryan splashed water on his face and fumbled for the hand towel. Filled a tumbler and gulped noisily, then drained two more before returning to the bedroom. Perching on the bed again he traced the room, re-enacting the trajectory of clothes in bullet time the way CSI staff might. The hallway was the epicentre, the first sign of desperation, her top a crumpled purple rag on the floor, his chequered shirt not far behind. By the bathroom door, her short black skirt lay discarded, his socks flung the other side of the room. He already knew the whereabouts of his jeans, but couldn't account for his underwear. Her scarlet bra had hit the floor halfway to the bed, meaning she'd approached practically naked from the side of the room he was facing. Squinting, he could just about make out the size from the worn label. 34E, maybe F. Certainly not a small girl. He pictured her standing there, breasts heaving, eyeing his nakedness with a mischievous glint in her eye while her fingers traced down. .the only other way this is going to end is with both you and your husband in the drunk tank downtown and a DUI charge to deal with.” He had a point, so I stopped resisting and just let this play out.After toying with my tits for a while, he left them hanging out of my top, and knelt down behind me to ‘pat down’ my legs. He ran his hands up both legs (even though they were both bare) until he reached my still wet vagina, and stuck two fingers inside me. I bit my lip and spread my legs a little more, as he stood up behind me, and with one hand he began moving his fingers in and out of my pussy. We could both see inside the car through the window just to my left, and it was obvious that Terry had pulled out his cock and was jerking it off as he watched the cop pawing my tits and fingering my cunt.When the cop noticed this, he laughed, and – with his fingers still thrusting in and out of my pussy – moved me over to the open driver’s side door, so that my husband could get a better view.
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