Indian Aunty Fucking With School Boyfriend
Even before she pushed my t-shirt over my head, I could feel her hands lightly touching my hairy torso. When I was finally bare from the waist-up, she held one hand to her mouth, as her other hand lightly roamed over my chest and stomach. I sat there with my arms stretched wide, giving her full access to do as she wished for now. After all, I figured that since she was conscious and it was her first-time, she might as well have a little fun too. Not that I wasn’t enjoying it, I mean, a naked young girl touching a hairy chest for the first time . . . But then she said something that, well, it didn’t ruin the mood, and it really didn’t enhance it, I guess it just changed it. “Daddy’s got a little hair on his chest, but it ain’t nothing like what you got. His is all soft, yours feels,” and as she thought, I felt her fingers bury deeper into the thick, dark hair between my pectorals, “I don’t know, rough, more like the hair Daddy’s got down there.” And with that, she pointed. Perhaps he was imagining how it would be to cross those few feet, to come to me? I imagined his hands on my breasts, slipping down to my thighs until his fingers eventually touched my... The thought of it spurred me on and I let out a quiet moan as I pushed my feet against the bottom of the bath, raising my hips until my soft pussy curls broke the surface, for him to see. I took the foamy sponge from my belly and began to massage my mound, allowing soft, needy ‘hmms’ to escape my lips, listening for his breathing, which I could hear was clearly more ragged and panting now. I set down the sponge and began to stroke my soft wet lips with slick, slippery fingers. His movements were unmistakable now, but I pretended not to hear, to be unaware of his presence. I was enjoying a feeling of power that his fascination was giving me and I boldly slid two fingers between my pussy lips, opening them, eased not just by water, but by my viscous arousal. I gasped as he stifled a moan and feigned.
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