Aunty Removes Saree Blouse And Shows Big Boobs

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I was trying not to stare at her body, and couldn't look in her eyes. Stuttering more, I got off a couple "I... I..."'s before thinking 'what the hell', she's probably already gonna kick my ass or get security."Ye... yeah I guess." I said while looking down at the ground.Silence. Complete and utter silence. I kept my floor staring up for several seconds, then looked up. Her previously pale face and neck were now bright red, freckles standing out even more as she blushed, a look of shock on her face.'Well this is gonna get bad.' I thought looking up at her still stunned face."That... turns you on? she finally whispered, green eyes staring at me widely.Now it was my turn to blush, a rather difficult feat considering the fact that I was biracial, specifically half black and half white."What the hell." I said out loud this time, staring up into her eyes as I said it."Yeah, it certainly does. You're fine as hell to begin with, and the way you looked when you were... ya know, breast. She kneaded the girl's full young breast, her body pressing the redhead backwards over the counter, her hand forcing the girl's head up and back, holding it in place as her tongue shot into her mouth again and again.Amy's mind was a blurred mass of disarray. She was disoriented, not sure what was going on or even where she was. She reached behind her, trying to pry the woman's hand from her hair, gasping for breath as she pulled her mouth free.Susan bent and slid her lips over Amy's left breast, both her hands kneading and squeezing the soft young mammaries as she sucked and licked on the nipple. Amy shook her head and tried to clear her mind. She saw Susan sucking on her nipple and knew she should push her away, but the woman's hands and tongue felt good on her boobs.What was going on anyway, she wondered.Susan slid a hand down to the girl's cunt and squeezed it, sighing in happiness at the feel of it. She pressed her fingers between the tight little pussy lips and rubbed up and.
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He studiously did not look in the mirror as he made his way to the bathroom but he was relieved to see his familiar male form out of the corner of his eye. He closed the bathroom door shut behind him and leaned on it as if to keep ghosts out. And his eyes met another woman’s, a prettier blonde this time: Christine, his ex-fiancée, staring out at him from the mirror over the sink. He gazed back at her in horror. She cocked her head to the side and gave him a sly smile. Then her blonde hair darkened until it gleamed a dark lustrous brown, her blue eyes tilted a bit as they turned grey, and her mouth thinned, until they were a sensuously cruel slash of red. It was the woman that he always saw around the building, always alone, always clad in red. He forced his head down and stared at his feet and counted to ten. Since that wasn’t enough he counted to one hundred, and when he lost track he started over and counted to one hundred again. He looked up. There he was, Thomas Brown, staring.

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