Indian Sheila Marie

The perpetually unshaven chin. Those big hairy hands. And those hands were clasping into the thin, angular buttocks of a naked girl. One who was much, much, much thinner than Fatima ever was. Thin even compared to a thin girl. And those buttocks were pistoning up and down on Freddy’s erect penis, which thrust up and down with rather less vigour than those buttocks pushed up and down on him. The girl was leaning forward, her weight resting on arms stretched onto Freddy’s shoulders, tiny breasts, almost all nipple that were nevertheless big enough to shake with the girl’s thrusts. Her dark brown hair was short, but her long earrings swang wildly as she pushed herself up and down on Freddy beneath her. And she was gasping in a low punctuated rhythm, immersed in her lovemaking, not wasting any energy in shouts or screams of greater abandon than was necessary. Freddy raised his head as he saw Fatima hover at the door entrance, her greeting suspended in empty air with no response. The. The land around us became darker for a moment. The air was stifling. If we hadn't known better, we would have sworn there was a daunting feeling enveloping us - something distressing. We took each other's hand and took two steps, and voila! What we saw had to be a ruse, a trick of light. For out in the clearing was a sight only the imagination could conjure up, a waterfall, complete with a wading pool and a surrounding grass embankment. The silver moonlight shone above the pool, transfixed as if it were to shine on it, on us, eternally.Completely taken by the sweeping emotion of the place, you run to the pool, forgetting we are not quite prepared with swimming attire. You turn to me, give me a sly grin, and tell me to look into the forest. I comply, and while I turn, you undress yourself. The sound of a splash is my cue to turn back around. At first, I cannot see you; the shimmering moonlight on the water surface offers you a cloak of light. I do, however, see your clothes on the.
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