Indian Hottie In Bathroom
Of course. when we got home I asked mom to model the new lingerie. I had a bottle of her favorite white wine chilled and I had bought some lavender scented candles and put on a selection of music for a romantic mood. I told her it was a dry-run for when dad came home, but in fact, I was hoping to get her wet and worked up so that she was situated and stimulated for i****t. The music was on and the goblets poured when she appeared. She was a vision, I must say.Her long blond hair hung down her back. Her translucent pale yellow gossamer fabric of the filmy apparel made her look like a angel. Or some nymph from an illustration: fleeting laughing sprites, seductive waifs that traipsed through medieval forests. The kind which lure men into their beds and so their paramours become enchanted; in the morning it seems all a dream, until they discover that they have the head of a donkey, for men are such asses when it comes to beautiful women! I was enchanted, but the ass I was hoping to have. My hands were busy touching her skin every place I could reach. I even brought a hand down to stroke her clit as I pounded away. She started to buck and I rode her like a bronc. I must have been hitting the right spot because I felt fluid running down my leg. And then she came. This time she went totally silent and her whole body tightened up. Her legs locked and she was pulsing with contractions along with her orgasm. I held my position and soon enough, my own orgasm was upon me. I spurted my baby juice into her and held my position while she accompanied me in our overture. Twice, three times she orgasmed for me. After one particularly long contraction, the arc of her back relaxed and she put her head down and rested it on her arms. Amazingly, I was still relatively hard and was stroking a slow in and out tempo. I asked her if she wanted to stop. She just wiggled and rocked her pelvis enough that I knew better than to stop."Manala, I have a question to ask you", I said. "It may be.
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